Dear People Of The Word
I, Willy Wonka, have decided to allow five children to visit my factory this year. In addition one of these children shall receive a special prize beyond anything you could ever imagine.
"Mum!" Charlie came running up to me as I walked to work. "Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
Charlie explained the contest. Including the part where you had to 'buy' a candy bar. My eyes widened.
"Mum, you know what this means?" Charlie asked excitedly.
"My job is about to get a whole lot worse."
The day was awful. Children were lined up for miles to get in. And when I tried to get in I was trampled on. Bob was nice enough to pay me a bonus after that.
That night we told everyone. My bones ached and I had a bruise on my forehead. Gently Mum applied the ice pack to it.
"I'm serious Mum; it only stings a bit now."
She sighed and went back to mopping the floor, leaving me to attend to my bump.
"Wouldn't it be something to open up a bar of candy and find a golden ticket inside?" Grandpa Jo asked Charlie.
"If I hear 'give me my golden ticket' one more time I'm going to scream.'
"I know," said Charlie, "But I only get one bar a year. For my birthday."
I removed the ice pack lightly, "Well, it is your birthday next week."
"Really?"
"Hmm, 18 hours of labor, I think I remember," I joked lightly.
Grandma Jo said, "You have just as much chance as anybody does."
"Balderdash, the kids who are going to get tickets are the kids who can afford to buy candy bars every day," Grandpa George said, "But our Charlie gets only one a year. He doesn't have a chance."
"Everyone has a chance, Charlie," I said gently.
Grandpa George added, "Mark my words, the kid who finds the first ticket will be fat, fat, fat."