Chapter 3 : Shimmering Piece of Foil

Yay ! Surprises and slight fluff ! I'm happy. ^_^

" I'll see you later, Grampa Sammy. "

Those were the words that Tracey had mumbled under his breath an hour ago as he walked out of his home for a walk. He left a note on the refrigerator before slipping on his sturdy sandles and idly slipping away into a larger world. It was an average, cold, January day, but the weather seemed like one giant bite of frost to Tracey's heart. This was the fourth day of the Golden Ticket craze, or would've been the fourth day, had there been one or two tickets still flying about in a securely wrapped Rowan chocolate bar with that underlying best-selling 80's techno music taste. He felt a wounding stab at his heart, not for him, but for Grampa Sammy. The Professor was so determined to have a ticket in Tracey's grasp. Now how would he ever make his elder happy ?

By now he took his first footsteps into Viridian City. Despite it being morning, the city already seemed to be wide-awake and bustling. Tracey managed to keep himself from being run over by vehicles and pedestrians as he quietly went inside a desolate candy shop that had been practically abandoned from overuse. He ambled up to the counter and placed a quarter on its surface. " One Fudgerific Scrumpdiddily Rowan Chocolate Bar, please, " he stated politely, scraping the floor with his sandals.

The employee nodded, making the exchange between money and candy. Tracey's fingers ran through the rectangular bar, palms sweating slightly for no apparent reason. He opened up the piece of candy....

...And a Golden Ticket fluttered out from the opening onto the floor.

Everyone's jaw dropped to the floor, including Tracey's. His eyes started to blink rapidly. " Oh, my God, " he mumbled incoherently. " What the hell ? There were only five Golden Tickets. It can't be real. I-I must be dreaming. "

" DUDE ! YOU GOT A GOLDEN TICKET ! "

Tracey turned around to see the employee grinning at him. He shook his head. " But the fifth Golden Ticket was already found ! "

" Duuude, didn't you hear ? It was a forgery ! That Russian had some mad skills, man, but it didn't fly with the rest of the world ! " the employee explained. " Man, luck bit joo heinie, man. I suggest that joo run along before someone tries to kill joo for it, man. "

" Um...could I trade this for a pencil ? "

" GO, MAN ! "

Tracey was pushed out of the stoor, still grasping the Golden Ticket. He started to run as fast as he could in the freezing temperatures. The boy ran through concrete, dirt, and miscellaneous pebbles. He ran, and ran, exhausting his stringbean body. Just as he was about to stop, though, he collided face-to-face with the front door, swirlies replacing his eyes. " Ohhh....I should stop running and trying to open doors at the same time...uhhhh...."

His hand clumsily reached for the doorknob, and turning it, he gently pushed the door open. A woman with soft blonde hair and sparkling blue-green eyes clicked her tongue as she helped Tracey to his feet. She wrapped her arms around his limp shoulders in an awkward embrace. " Hi, Tracey, " she greeted, pulling him further into the lab where Grampa Sammy was grinning like a lunatic. The woman pulled the sides of his shorts and clicked her tongue again. " You're still as stiff as a cardboard box, I see, and, like, as cold as a steamy iceberg just waiting to melt. Why haven't you called me or come over ? Are you afraid Misty's going to try to bite you and force an itch under your pants ? We both know that she's harmless, that little stick of a girl. "

The boy merely lowered his head to avoid anyone seeing him blush a rosy pink. " Hello, Daisy, " he mumbled meekly.

Daisy Waterflower, eldest sister to Tracey's good friend, Misty, and the woman that he had silently dubbed as a goddess from the first time he met her. Although there was a seven year age difference between the two, the friendship was close and borderline fluffy. A few, very close encounters had almost let them into a locked bedroom, but Tracey always pushed away, uncertain if he was ready to give in to his manly desires - a perky nurse and a doctor wearing nothing but a stethoscope and a pair of shorts with alpaca designs on them. Just the thought gave him tingles.

She tugged on his arm, pulling him closer to her. " Oh, my God, you're as fluffy as the bear on the laundry softener boxes ! " she cooed.

Pink spread to his entire face. Suddenly, the concept of possessing a Golden Ticket wasn't such a bad idea. He took out the ticket and feigned a joyous smile. " Well, Daisy, you and Grampa Sammy will be the first to hear the terrific news ! "

" Terrific news ? " Daisy repeated. " What could it be, Tracey ? "

Tracey held out the Golden Ticket for everyone to see. " Ta-da ! "

Daisy gasped under her breath, cheeks paling slightly. Grampa Sammy shakily stood up from the couch, tripping over the floor lamp's cord as he walked up to Tracey and clutched him by the shoulders. Tears started to well up in the man's eyes. " Tracey, is it really true, my boy ? "

" Yeah. I tried to trade it in for a pencil, but nobody would go for the offer. "

Grampa Sammy chuckled under his breath. " Good Giratina. Well, what does it say ? "

" Congratulations in finding this ticket, " Tracey began. " I shake you warmly by the hand and cordially invite you to my factory for a day on February 1st. Each one of the lucky contestants shall receive a complimentary prize, but one of the contestants shall also receive a special prize, said person decided by myself. Once again, congratulations, and I will see you on the first of February at ten a.m. "

" February 1st ? But that's tomorrow, " Daisy stated. " Tracey, honey, will you be able to get ready in time ? "

" Nuh-uh, I still have a lot of ti- ...oh. Holy crap, that is tomorrow. " Tracey sweatdropped for a few seconds before nodding. " Sure I could. It also says that I can bring someone along. So, since he's been so good to me, I want Grampa Sammy to go. It's been a while since either one of us has gone on vacation. "

Samuel grinned. " Wow. Guess I should get ready and prepared, then. We have less than twenty-four hours before we go meet Mr. Rowan. "

He let go of Tracey's shoulders and tripped over himself within ten steps. Daisy helped him to his feet and to the couch. The man sighed in relief. " Thank you, Daisy. I hope I'm not that clumsy when I go. I don't want to shame Mr. Rowan. "

Daisy shook her head. " You won't shame him, Professor, " she said gently. " If you fall, Tracey will catch you. Both of you will be fine. " She glanced down at the floor, blue-green eyes tainted with worry. " There is something that is, like, bugging me, though. Do you think those newscasters will try to interview you ? They seem like a cloud of dandruff out to get anybody whom they find worthy of destruction. "

All of a sudden, the tension skyrocketed into the air, and things became quiet. Tracey gulped, suddenly welcoming Daisy's touch. He attempted to smile, but failed miserably. " It'll be okay, Daisy. In fact, I bet they won't find out. "

-*two hours later*-

Sixteen news vans were parked alongside the sidewalk. Any hopes of having peace and quiet the day before the trip to the factory vanished into another dimension. Noobish newscasters were crowded around the front door, praying that they could get a meager snapshot of the stick man ragamuffin.

Inside the lab there was no escape. Tracey stood in the middle of the room wearing his usual taste of apparel, dismayed. Grampa Sammy stood next to the quivering boy, grinning from ear to ear, seemingly oblivious to all of the commotion. Daisy, who was standing on the other side of Tracey, patted him on the back. " Tracey, these people aren't here to eat you, " she said, wrapping her arm around his back for assurance. " I know. I've been through a camera ordeal before. It's, like, scary, but you won't die. Just smile and look at the camera. "

" Uh-huh...."

The snaggletoothed woman finally made her appearance in Tracey's home, visibly disgusted. She stomped around the perimeter in her heels, pursing her lips in annoyance. " Nobody told me that we were going to interview a caveman, " she murmured angrily, " and why does this place reek of mustard ?! Good Giratina, it's called an air freshener ! My suit stains are cleaner than this dump ! "

She grunted, crossing her arms with microphone in hand. " All right, where the hell is that stupid brat ? "

Tracey meekly raised his hand. The woman reached for her bun. " You look like a hobo ! " she screeched in horror. " My reputation's going to go down the tube. I always knew children would be the source of my demise ! "

Daisy took a step forward and casted a glare upon the newscaster. " Snaggs, I'm going to set it straight for ya, " she said, unusual malice in her voice. " You either interview my friend, or you'll be stuffed in my sister's Candyland box, with a bald spot here and there, a couple of bruises, and a giant gap where your Prada bag used to be. Does that sparkle with you, hon ? "

" Crystal. "

Miss Snaggletooth rolled her eyes. " *So* glad I'm not a blonde, " she muttered under her breath. She cued the cameraman and faked a smile. " Good morning. I'm here in Pallet Town with Mr. Golden Ticket # 5. Apparently, even poor men have miracles. I'm with Mr. Stacey Sketchit and his guardian, Samuel Oak. Stacey, how did you achieve your ticket ? Fraud ? Bribery ? Tried to smoke it and it tasted bad ? "

Cat-like green eyes mercilessly gazed at the boy as if he was a small fish. Tracey sweatdropped. " My name's Tracey...."

" Interesting. Do you have tendencies to touch yourself while making breakfast ? "

Silence. Daisy's face turned murderous. The newscaster smirked to herself, dropping her grip on the bun. " Well, let's change the subject. Any lovers ? "

"....That's a personal question, ma'am. "

" Of course it is, sweetie. " Miss Snaggletooth cackled, turning to Grampa Sammy. " Mr. Oak, you must be so proud of this child. Now, has he always been a barefooted shlomo, or did he join the circus as a little boy and come back recently, deranged ? "

Pause. Grampa Sammy gave a blank stare for a few seconds before shaking his head. " Tracey, my boy, if you really wanted to dress in drag, at least wear a lipstick that's less chintzy. It's smeared, too. "

" Like a quarterback's ten-cent Chapstick, " Daisy added dryly. " How dismal for someone who has the same lame fashion sense as my sister. Misty may wear suspenders of all things, but at least she doesn't show a snaggletooth and premature crow's feet ! "

SMACK !

" THAT'S IT ! I'M OUTTA HERE ! " the newscaster roared, stomping a heel. " I hope you die and fall into a ditch, you stupid, sons of bi- "

" Um, we're still rolling, " a cameraman interrupted.

" Oh. Oops....."

Daisy rubbed her cheek, feigning a surprised look. " Snaggs, how could you ? I thought you said you were the voice of little children. You're not being very nice. " The girl twirled a lock of hair around her finger. " Tsk. What a shame. "

" I'll be the voice of Kira if you don't fuck off ! " Miss Snaggletooth snapped.

" Okay. Well, why don't you show yourself to the door, and we can wrap things up, hmm ? I'm sure you wanna find something less chintzy. "

" Yeah. I'm outta this dump. "

-*the next day*-

" I wish you well on your visit. Both of you. And if Ash doesn't explode from all of the chocolate, tell him that Misty wants her Game Boy back, like, ASAP. "

Daisy wiped Tracey's face with a damp tissue. The boy blushed within him. " Thank you, Daisy. "

He turned to Grampa Sammy. " Are you ready, Grampa ? "

" Ready as a pot of freshly-made mustard soup. "

Tracey grabbed Grampa Sammy's hand, and together the two men walked towards their destination. What would they come across ? Would it be good, or bad ?

And would Tracey ever be able to find a pencil ?

End

Cast o' Characters :

Tracey Sketchit - Charlie Bucket

Professor Oak - Grampa Joe

Daisy - Not in actual story. Charlie's.....'friend'.