Wilbur Wonka sighed at he sat at a small desk in his hotel room. He had been hoping to cast a glance at his son, but after fourteen hours Willy never came out, so he gave up. He tried to see him when the gates first open, but brats were shoving each other, causing his glasses to fall on the ground. Thus, the moment he leaned over to pick up his glasses, he heard cheering. Immediately picking himself back up, the gates closed, ruining any small chance of seeing his son. What a waste this whole trip had been.

Wilbur pulled a piece of paper from his pocket that he had taken with him everywhere for years now. It was a phone number for Wonka's factory. He always vowed he would eventually call that number, but never had. Besides, what would he say? Willy probably loathed him at this point in time. And that was partially deserved. He had been far too hard on Willy, but not hard enough to merit this cold rejection.

He had wanted to move the house back to where it had been the moment that he had done so. But it was too late. He had tried to find Willy, but eventually gave up. It was a few years after that he was sent a photograph of Willy from a woman who had taken his picture. He had been relieved to learn that he was alive, but he did not contact this woman to see where Willy was.

Just call him right now, Wilbur told himself. Wilbur even picked up the telephone, his hands above the buttons. None of which he pressed. He didn't have the nerve. The dentist sighed. He wanted to finally dial that number one day, but today wasn't the day.

He had been collecting what little information about his son existed for decades. Every little scrap of newspaper he could find. It got worse when the local library installed internet access. He literally had dozens of scrapbooks of Wonka headlines, though none told him what he wanted to know. Still, he took them nonetheless, filling up entire rooms in his home.

Worse, he couldn't go a week without buying a Wonka bar. Every time he ate one, he brushed his teeth for two hours, yet he couldn't stop buying them. It was addictive. Willy was very competent in his chosen profession, as awful as it was. When he learned of the golden ticket, Wilbur immediately booked a flight to be at the ceremony. He did not expect to have a ticket; he just hoped for a brief second of his eyes and his son's meeting each other in recognition.

It was too late. The point of no return was reached long ago. Yet he still hoped that maybe, just maybe...

Mike Teavee was back in his house in Denver, in front of the video gaming system. Tuesday had been different from any other day of his life. What know? As Mike was pondering, he heard an awful noise. That song. The song from the television room was coming from the sky.

The most important thing

That we've ever learned

The Most important thing we've learned

As far as children are concerned

Is never even let them near, a television set

Or better yet just don't install the idiotic thing at all

"Where is that awful noise coming from?" Mr. Teavee asked in irritation.

"I'll check." Mike said. Checking three times to assure that his game was paused, he went to open the front door. Mike had not expected to see a candy helicopter emblazoned with the letters "WW" fly over his house, but he wasn't shocked by it.

"Hey, little boy," Wonka called from a loudspeaker, interrupting the song, "I'm going to move your house to my factory. Like my tunes?"

"How are you going to do that?" Mike asked, to relieved at the song's pause to snarl at Wonka.

"Unbreakable licorice," Wonka swerved slightly, "I'll tie one end to your house and another to my helicopter, then fly away."

"What about the plumbing and the electricity?"

"You'll be connected to my factory's systems."

"And the paperwork you'll need for this?"

"Have it all filled out."

Mr. Teavee walked out. "Mike? I thought I heard Mr. Won-" he looked at the helicopter in shock.

"He wants to move our house to his factory." Mike explained.

"That's right. One last chance to stay put and go on with your lives."

Neighbors were staring in awe. "How will you move it?" Mr. Teavee asked.

A series of Oompa-Loompa's parachuted from the chopper carrying massive strings of licorice. Giving Mike a look of pure loathing, they tied the licorice end to the house.

"Go inside," Wonka ordered, "we're preparing for an immediate flight!"

The Teavee's ran inside. Mike's stomach sank as he felt the house lift off the ground. After a few minutes, however, he was getting used to this. Mike eventually was comfortable with his house flying to not notice it, and he resumed his video games.

Wonka decided to spice things up by playing Mike's would-be demise song at the maximum volume, giggling uproariously as he clicked the play button. The noise was so loud Mike fell over, thinking something was exploding. In a few seconds, however, he recognized it as that song he loathed.

Mike was covering his ears. He tried humming loudly to drown out the noise, but he still heard every note. Mr. Teavee ran into the room, his own ears covered, attempting to ask Mike something over the song. Mike tried asking his father what he was trying to say, but attempts to communicate over the song were futile.

"It's too bad this is the highest volume we have at this point." Wonka told a Oompa-Loompa back in the helicopter. The Oompa-Loompa snickered in agreement and clicked the repeat button.

And, so, the song played on. Mike's irritation had turned to just plain fury by this point, but couldn't take his anger out on Wonka as long as he was in the helicopter. Mike had an unbearable migraine.

Finally, Wonka decided he had enough fun, and the music quit playing, to Mike's great relief. Mike's stomach sank as he felt the house move forward, backwards and every other ways imaginable. Mike wondered if Wonka was intentionally making the ride as uncomfortable as possible.

After several hours, Mike felt the house fall downward. Initially panicked, Mike realized after a few seconds they must be at Wonka's factory.

"We're here! Wonka called over the loudspeaker, "I hope you enjoyed that ride!"

Mike opened the front door of his house and saw the chocolate room. They had made it. The Bucket house had already been moved.

Wonka exited his helicopter through a licorice parachute. "Well, little boy, we're going to have a board meeting, and as a co-heir you are obliged to attend. Hop along." Wonka sounded like a board meeting with Mike was the last thing he wanted-which it was.

"All right." Mike said. Mike followed Wonka to the flying glass elevator. Wonka clicked a button titled Board Room. Mike's face smashed into the elevator's glass as it took a sharp curve to the right. Wonka somehow was standing perfectly still, giggling at Mike.

"Be careful, little boy," Wonka said, "you need to understand this elevator to defy it."

Mike didn't even know how to respond to that.

Mike heard a ding and the doors opened. Mike saw a large, chocolate bar-shaped table. On the left side of the table were Oompa-Loompa's dressed as lawyers, and on the other end was Charlie Bucket. Mike walked over to a seat by Charlie, as he seemed to be the only person there who didn't hate Mike.

"First, I got you both housewarming gifts." Wonka pulled two wrapped presents from under the table, giving one to Charlie and one to Mike, who was surprised that his present felt like a case for a video game or a DVD. Mike felt a rare wave of optimism. Maybe Wonka is trying to be nice to you, Mike thought, maybe he's fine and you simply got off on the wrong foot because he's so odd.

Our maybe you're hopelessly naïve, Mike snarled to himself once he tore off the wrapping paper. It was a DVD for Battlefield Earth, widely considered the worst science fiction movie ever. It was among Mike's least favorite movies. Mike was certain Wonka bought it simply because he knew Mike would hate it.

"That's one of my favorite films," Wonka's informed Mike, "Charlie, open your present!"

Charlie carefully opened his present, which was a lengthy book titled Guide to Wonka's Factory.

"It's a map of the whole factory," Wonka said, "it tells you every last detail."

Envy quickly filled Mike's face. "Why don't I get a map to the factory?"

"I thought you said everything is pointless here, Veruca," Wonka began impersonating the girl, "Daddy, I want a map to the factory! Get me a map to the factory! I want it!"

Mike felt hurt by the harsh comparison. "I'm not a selfish brat like her."

"Have I not told you mumbling is bad?" Wonka asked, "besides, you wouldn't know what to do with the map. You're thinking powers rust and freeze!"

"Don't quote that song," Mike snarled, "you almost shrunk me!"

"Let's trade," Charlie said quickly, "you can have the map and I'll take the movie."

Mike suddenly felt guilty. Two days ago this kid ate rotten cabbage, and he was always grateful. And was what Mike doing? Throwing a fit over a present. "No, it's fine," Mike said, "this isn't that bad of a movie, anyway."

"Well, maybe we should all get together and watch Battlefield Earth sometime." Wonka suggested. Mike cringed at the thought.

"How big is the factory?" Charlie asked.

"Well, it takes about three weeks to see the whole thing at this point," Wonka explained, "but it's constantly growing as a result of new ideas. You must be very careful should you explore the factory. In any case, I'll let you get settled in. Tomorrow, we'll talk about new candy ideas."

Mike was not looking forward to tomorrow. Wonka left the board room.

"I promised my grandparents and parents that I'd show them the factory," Charlie old Mike, "maybe you and your mother would like to join us?"

"Um...well, okay, sure." Mike said, deciding that the factory would probably be much more interesting without Wonka around.

"I don't think we've actually introduced each other," Charlie offered his hand, "I'm Charlie Bucket."

"Mike Teavee," Mike took Charlie's hand, "I guess we have to take the elevator?"

Wonka returned to the room. "Oh, I almost forgot," Wonka picked up a small schedule, "to give this to the Oompa-Loompa cheif. Anyway, what are you two up to?"

"We're going to see the factory!" Charlie announced.

"With our families." Mike added.

Wonka's felt faint. It was that awful word again. Family. Wonka vomited on Mike and Charlie.