Disclaimer: (in case you skipped over the other chapters) main characters are the creative property of Roald Dahl and whoever bought rights to them.

What had happened was this: Augustus Gloop, who had been made curiously thin by being sucked up a glass pipe at Wonka's factory, was miserable. In the year following his misadventure at the factory, his parents decided that his eating habits were destructive and put him on a strict diet. This morning, he had been allowed to eat porridge with one spoonful of sugar and a banana, but now as he sat miserably on the front porch of his house, his stomach growled in protest. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't as if he could do anything about it…his parents had put locks on the pantry and cupboards and refrigerator so he could not cheat on his diet. Then, as if in response to his protesting tummy, a large truck appeared on the street and drove up the driveway to Augustus's house. Augustus' eyes bulged out of his head in amazement as the truck parked and two muscular men got out to unload the cargo. Augustus knew from the curly W's printed on the boxes that they contained candy. Candy! He smiled in greed. His parents were not home—his father was working at the butcher shop, and his mother was out playing bingo. His babysitter was asleep on the couch in front of the television, so Augustus knew he had an opportunity that he would not have again. He waved to the men and opened the garage for them, gesturing to a place where they could stack the boxes. It took several minutes before they had unloaded everything, and by the time they were done and said goodbye, Augustus was sweating from the sheer effort of containing himself. Finally the men drove away, and Augustus sprang into action. He closed the garage and, now alone with mounds of candy, he tore frantically into the nearest box. There were regular milk chocolate Wonka bars inside, and Augustus nearly squealed in delight. He lost any control he had left. He tore open one bar after another, devouring them in large, wolfish bites. When that box was more or less demolished, he tore open another, and another. And even though he was feeling quite full by the fourth box, he couldn't stop himself now. He ripped off the lid, not bothered in the slightest by the green, glowing candy that greeted him. He grabbed on in his greedy fist, ate it, and disappeared.

Veruca Salt was the second one to receive her candy supply, though her cause of misery was different than that of Augustus. Ever since the trip to factory, Veruca's father had been stricter with her. He didn't give her everything she wanted anymore. Even the tricks she had used before did not work—no matter how much she screamed, cried, or pouted…he would not budge. It was like trying to get candy from a rock, except that rock could send her to her room and demand that she use manners. Indeed, Veruca's life had not been the same since that fateful tour, and she was very bitter about it. Not at falling down the Bad Egg shaft, not at the Oompa-Loompas, who had sung mean things about her. Not even at Willy Wonka, who had probably staged the whole thing to embarrass her. If anything, she was mad at her father for letting it all happen. She was mad at him for changing so much after the trip. For not letting her have anything she asked for, and for not calling her his "princess" anymore. So, more often than not, Veruca sulked. It was a childish thing to do at her age, but she didn't care. She sulked at home. At school. Even at the store, where she would gaze longingly at the expensive things her father would no longer buy for her. Today she decided to change things up a bit and be sulky outside. So she was outside on the expansive front lawn of the manor where she lived. The sun was shining and the grass was green, and one of her many puppies was running in circles trying to get her attention, but she ignored everything. She even growled at the puppy, and the poor thing ran back to the house in fright. Now alone, Veruca started picking flowers to amuse herself. Then she plucked the petals and leaves off them until they were barren stalks that she threw away with a spiteful grin.

"Daddy can't be like this forever," she declared to herself. "I'll be thirteen soon, and he'll have to listen to my demands then. It would be bad for my adolescent development if he didn't." Her self-assurance cooled her temper for a moment, and she looked over at the cobblestone driveway leading to the manor. There was some kind of delivery truck making its way toward the house. Perhaps her father had ordered something.

A devious grin curled Veruca's lips. "Whatever it is," she whispered, "I should take it and hide it. That'll teach Daddy to not be so cruel."

She ran to the driveway, stopping to watch as two men in grey uniforms got out. One went to the door and raised his hand to knock, but Veruca stopped him by shouting. "Hey! What are you doing!?"

The man turned around to look at her, smiling. "Hello little girl. We're here to deliver your first shipment of Wonka candies. Is your mum or dad home?"

"Um, no," Veruca lied. In fact, her parents were on the back veranda, hosting a small party in honor of Mr. Salt's company's thirtieth anniversary. But the delivery man seemed to believe her.

"Well then…Veruca, is it? Do you know where we can put all these boxes of candy?"

Veruca grinned sweetly. "Follow me!"

She led them into the house and showed them the kitchen pantry, and they began unloading as many boxes as they could fit in there. When there was no more room in the pantry, they piled the boxes beside the pantry door. They finished in minutes, bid Veruca goodbye, and then were gone. Veruca was now alone with the candy, and she got a brilliant idea to get even with her father. Recently, her father had made a rule that she could not have sweets without permission—she had to ask either her mother or father first, and there was definitely no sweet-eating before meals. So she decided that she would break the rules and eat as many of these Wonka candies as she could. Take that, Daddy, she thought spitefully as she ripped open the first box. There were chocolate covered malts inside, and she daintily plucked one from the box and ate it. She found it was tasty, but she wanted to see what was in the other boxes. She tore open three in quick succession, eating one candy from each box. By now, her hands and mouth were quite sticky, but she didn't mind. She tore open the fifth box and was taken aback by the glowing green candies found inside. Common sense told her not to eat it, that it was probably poisonous or radioactive, but her sulky side said otherwise.

"I'm going to eat it even if it poisons me," Veruca vowed, snatching one of the candies out of the box. "If I die, it serves Daddy right. He'll feel terrible and wish he'd done everything I asked. Ha!" she tossed the candy into her mouth, her eyes widening in shock as her vision filled with swirling colors, and she disappeared.

Violet Beauregarde's live had been drastically changed as well. Following her misadventure at Wonka's factory, she struggled to live a "normal" life. Because of the de-juicing process, she was shockingly thin, and her hair and skin and eyes were all a strange, bluish-purple color. The color of a blueberry. For the first month after her transformation, she refused to go to school. She also stopped chewing gum, though sometimes she would catch herself making chewing movements even if there was nothing in her mouth. Old habits do die hard. In the second month, her parents urged her to go to school, or at least get out of the house, so she tried all sorts of ways to hide her strange color. Finally she succeeded in creating a wardrobe that would let her go out in broad daylight, and attract minimal stares. She wore long pants, long-sleeved shirts, and gloves. She applied heavy layers of makeup that made her face look almost normal. And she discovered that, by bleaching her hair, it took on a silver, almost platinum-blond color. This was all very good in the winter, when the long clothes and thick makeup provided insulation against the cold, but in the summer it was pure torture. There were days she thought she would melt underneath it all, and her makeup would run, and the people who saw her would laugh at her ridiculous color. Today was one such day. School was out for the summer, so when would not have to worry about sitting in class. But she had decided to walk down to the corner market to buy some ice cream, since her parents were away at work, and even if they were home they would have told her to walk there anyway. By the time she had gotten to the market, she was sweating, and her makeup felt a little greasy. She bought her ice cream, ignoring the cashier's curious stare.

"Aren't you hot in all that?" he asked.

"It's fine," Violet said quickly, leaving the store before he could comment any further. She walked home, ignoring all the people who passed her by in their shorts and t-shirts and tank tops. They're so lucky, Violet thought enviously, eating her ice cream carefully so that it would not smear the makeup around her mouth. When she rounded the corner, she caught sight of a delivery truck coming down the street. When it backed up in front of her house, she quickened her pace. Did mom order something? She wondered. She arrived in time to see two men in green uniforms get out of the truck. One held a clipboard. He noticed Violet and smiled.

"Hello! Are you Violet Beauregarde?"

"Um, y-yes," she said uncertainly.

"Well, we're here to deliver your candy."

"Candy?" Violet echoed, almost dropping her ice cream at the word. It reminded her of gum. And gum reminded her of…best not think about it.

"I don't think we worded any," she said weakly.

"It's a gift," the clipboard man said cheerfully as the other man opened up the back of the truck. "All this came directly from the factory of Willy Wonka."

Violet frowned. Another thing she didn't want to hear again: Wonka. Even though he had warned her not to eat the experimental gum, she still blamed him for her turning into a giant human blueberry. She knew, deep down inside, that it was her fault, but she didn't want to admit it.

"You should probably take it all back," Violet said, "And bring something else. You know, like a gift exchange."

"Sorry, kid," the clipboard man said. "But we were instructed to deliver this candy here, and orders are orders. Just show us where we can drop it off. You don't have to eat it, but we can't take it back."

"Besides," the other man added, "It's Wonka candies! The best in the world! How can you not want to eat them?" He shared a chuckle with the clipboard man.

Violet finally sighed. "Okay, Mister. You can bring it all on the patio over here." She showed them a shaded area by the front door.
"The chocolate will melt in this heat," the clipboard man noted.

Violet hissed to herself in impatience, but she pulled out a key and opened the front door.

"You can put it in here, by the front door. Then my parents will see it when they come home."

After that was settled, the delivery men moved all the boxes from the truck into the house. What didn't fit in the entryway, they put on the patio, though they made sure none of it was the chocolate. They said goodbye to Violet, who let out a sigh of relief when they finally left—her makeup was starting to drip down her neck. She went inside to get cleaned up, gladly taking off the makeup and exchanging her long clothes for a t-shirt and shorts. Out of curiosity, she stared opening up the boxes of candy that were stacked in the entryway. There were gumdrops and lollipops and all manners of licorice. Of course there was chocolate, of all different shades and fillings. Then there was one box that held a strange kind of glowing candy. It was greenish and reminded Violet of glow-in-the-dark stars, except it was candy and it shined even in the light. On impulse, Violet took one out of the box, her jaw twitching as if her chewing muscles were begging for exercise. Whatever happens, she thought, it can't be any worse than what I've already been through. She placed the candy in her mouth, chewed for a couple seconds, and vanished.

The most stunning transformation, perhaps, had been that of Mike Teavee. During the tour of Wonka's factory, he had been shrunk as small as a mouse, then stretched so that he was about ten feet tall and as thin as a wire. It shouldn't have been humanly possible, but some magic from the factory allowed it to be so. Reporters had definitely ben after him since he walked out of the factory gates with his mother, and as much as Mike loved television and the idea of being on t.v, there came a point when he actually got sick of the whole thing and gave up television altogether. He had not liked the prospect of being as thin as a wire for the rest of his life, but Mr. Wonka had promised to send him a special vitamin candy to help him fatten up a bit. Now, a year later, he was still ten feet tall, but he was considerably thicker than a wire. In fact, he looked quite normal, if it was normal for a ten year old boy to be ten feet tall. He was still adjusting to normal life though—at home he had to duck to get through the doors, and when he was inside the house he had to hunch over so that his head didn't scrape the ceiling. His mother wanted to move to a new house with higher ceilings to accommodate him, but his dad, who was the sensible type, pointed out that since they were both high school teachers they didn't make enough money to afford a new house. So Mike had no choice but to keep hunching in the house, and when it came time for bed, he had to curl up with his knees to his chest so that he would fit in his twin size bed. He had to do the same thing in the car, and riding the school bus was out of the question. There was a perk to his new height, though—his classmates had teased him when he was flat, but now that he was normal in thickness, many of them were actually jealous. He was the only kid in his school who could make slam dunks in basketball, and girls always asked him to get their Frisbees or kites out of the trees. So really things were looking up for Mike Teavee—he had friends, he was doing well in school, and since he gave up television he became interested in doing things that normal ten-year-old boys ought to be doing. Still…there were days he wished he could just be normal-sized again. He felt out of place, a freak. He was very sorry for how he had behaved in Wonka's factory, and he longed for a way to make things go back to the way they were—but without the television, of course.

He was outside dribbling a basketball when he noticed a delivery truck coming down the road toward him. He went onto the sidewalk to wait until it passed, but it pulled up along the curb, and two men in green uniforms got out. One of them held a clipboard, and he paused to look up at Mike in amazement.

"You must be Mike Teavee," he said.

"Yup," Mike replied simply. His voice was different than it used to be, deeper and kind of hollow. The doctor said it was from the stretching, and Mike could only live with it. The clipboard man smiled.

"We have a shipment of Wonka candies for you and your family. Can you show us where to put it?"

"Sure," Mike said casually. Unlike the other three children, Mike had come to appreciate Wonka candies. He used to hate chocolate, but the vitamins Wonka had given him were chocolate flavored and after a month or two of eating one a day, he started liking it. He tried all the different Wonka candies, and found out that he enjoyed each one. He didn't gorge himself on them, like Augustus would, so when the delivery men had moved all the boxes of candy into the garage and left, Mike calmly looked into the boxes to see what was in them. He still had some of the vitamins, so he was pretty sure Mr. Wonka would not have sent more until the next month. He was pleasantly surprised to find packages of Nerds and Taffy and chocolate-covered malts. There were wriggling gummies and fruity Lollies, and best of all, an Everlasting Gobstopper with a special note from Wonka, who apologized again for Mike's condition and said he was still looking for a way to fix him and Violet Beauregarde. Even though Mike had written an apology letter months ago, he hadn't expected a reply. He was beginning to see that Mr. Wonka was not as mean as he had thought on the tour, and was actually a very nice and considerate person if you were nice to him in return. Mike took the Everlasting Gobstopper and the note and set them on the shelf where the television set used to be. Then he noticed a smaller box that he had overlooked and opened it up in curiosity. There was a weird, glowing candy inside that Mike didn't recognize from any of the candy shops. He wondered if it might've been sent by mistake, but his curiosity was greater than his uncertainty. Mr. Wonka wouldn't have sent us anything harmful, he reasoned to himself. He took one of the candies and ate it, so amazed by the flavor that he laughed before he vanished.