A/N: I'm actually going to have Willy Wonka in this chapter! :/
Dislcaimer: I am not Tim Burton or Ronald Dahl. Therefore, I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Or Willy Wonka. :'(
The Fifth Winner?
From up in the enormous chocolate factory, Mr. Wonka could see the entire metropolis, but his attention was focused on one person.
He watched Toffee Bucket walk home, her hands shoved deep inside her pockets.
Now, Mr. Wonka could track the sales of chocolate bars, even easier with tickets, and he knew that the fifth ticket was in the city before him, bought.
But, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why it hadn't been reported! If the ticket were bought by an ordinary person; one who bought bars, and tore them open immediately afterward, the media would be exploding.
That meant that the person who bought the bar with the ticket didn't buy it for themselves, even though that was the only thing on everyone else's mind in the world. Which would mean that they bought the Wonka bar, and then forgot about it?
Mr. Wonka smiled out the window, because he knew the one person in this entire town who would buy a Wonka bar for someone else.
He smiled, because he knew who had won the last ticket.
Toffee walked over to her last table in her section, and gathered the dirty dishes on her tray.
She noticed a crumpled dollar bill underneath one of the plates, and smiled as she slipped it in her pocket.
She piled the dishes on the counter, hugn up her apron, clocked out, then picked up her coat to walk out.
She made sure the collar of her coat was snug tight around her neck before she stepped out into the falling snow.
She slowed her pace as she passed the gates to the chocolate factory, deeply taking int he scent of chocolate before pressing on through the thick snow towards home.
When she returned home, the family was glumly watching an interview with a small Russian girl who had won the fifth ticket.
Charlie silently switched off the set, then asked Toffee softly, "How was your day at the cafe?"
Toffee shifted her postition on the floor, then pulled the crumpled dollar bill out of her pocket.
Mrs. Bucket, who was pouring soup for everyone in the kitchen, stuck her head out, and said in what she hoped was a cheerful voice, "Guess it was a good day, then?"
Toffee nodded, then stood up and got her bowl.
The rest of the family sat down pretending that the news of the Russian girl hadn't affected them, and listened to Charlie tell them about a classmate who had brought a group of baby possums to show-and-tell that morning at school.
Mr. Wonka sat in front of his ill-used television set, thoroughly confused.
A ticket had not gone to Russia.
That he was absolutely certain of.
He shook his head. "Faking a ticket. How low are some people?" he muttered under his breath.
He called in an anonymous tip to the Russian authorities, then shut the set off.
He walked over to the window and found Toffee's small house outside the city. He thought, "How could anyone live in a place like that?"
A small flash of movement near the gates caught his eye. He looked down, and saw a familiar bundle of coat standing in front of the factory.
He smiled, a real smile, something he had not experienced in a long time.
He silently urged her (as if he had telepathy that he didn't know about, but desperately wanted to use), "Come on, Toffee, you've got your wish in your coat pocket, just look!"
A/N: How did I do? Come on, I need feedback! :)