Author's Note: I'm afraid this chapter may be kind of lame. I don't know.
It's a cheap way out of the rehab story arc because I really want to wrap
things up. So if you don't like just post a comment and say, "I didn't like
it." You know the drill.
Disclaimer: This is getting anoying. I don't own Wonka. That's IT!
"Yes, I'm here to get Tawny," Willy said to the bored looking receptionist.
He couldn't stand it anymore. She was going to get help, but she had to do it somewhere else. Neither of them were happy or healthy this way.
She looked at him blankly. "You can't."
He shook his head. "What do you mean?"
She groaned, as if he was deliberately taking away her time to play solitare on the computer. "Once you sign her in you can't get her back out unless Mrs. Shaw thinks she's recovered." She scoffed. "That almost never happens."
He breathed in. He had to get her out of here.
He came back the next morning and had almost the same conversation.
"Well, then, let me see Mrs. Shaw," he said this time.
The receptionist snorted. "Like that'll help."
Her eyes were on fire when she saw him in her office.
Mrs. Shaw immediatly tried to hide it. She blinked. "What can I do for you, sir?"
"I'd like to get Tawny out of here."
She chuckled coldly. "You just can't do that," she informed him, trying to be light and cheerful. "It's not fair for her to leave without recovering first, it it?
"It's not fair for her to be stuck here with you," he snapped.
Her face grew cold. She sat down in her chair across from him. "Is Wonka your birth name?"
"Uh, no."
"What is it?"
He blushed. "It's William Schmuckler."
"That's Jewish, right?"
"Yes."
"And do you go to temple or whatever you people do?"
He didn't like how she had refered to them as "you people". He sighed. "No. What's your point?"
She groaned. "Not only are you Jewish, and non-religious, you are living with a woman you're not married to. You are unclean!"
"And being anti - Semetic makes you machine wash clean?"
She leaned in. "These drug addicts and all you other people are not pure! I need to purify you, to claean you by any means necessary. With some people it's beating them, with some starving them - I'll do anything!"
He tensed up. She like a rabid animal, with a crazy, cold look in her eyes.
"So," he began slowly, "you've abused some patients?"
She laughed maniacally. "SOME? I've done that to ALL of them. And they can't go to till they repent and are clean. Sometimes I even mix drugs in their food when they're about to recover, just so they can go into remission!"
He slowly got up and backed away. "Uh . . . I think that's all I need," he told her, wary.
He left the room and sighed heavily. He was glad to be out of there. He pulled the tape recorder out of his pocket. Yeah, he had gotten all he needed.
___________________________________________________________________
Again, sorry if this is lame. I'm just trying to wrap things up. If you think it's lame, just put a brief message instead of a sarcastic one. I'm in tears . . .
Yeah . . . so, uh, thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: This is getting anoying. I don't own Wonka. That's IT!
"Yes, I'm here to get Tawny," Willy said to the bored looking receptionist.
He couldn't stand it anymore. She was going to get help, but she had to do it somewhere else. Neither of them were happy or healthy this way.
She looked at him blankly. "You can't."
He shook his head. "What do you mean?"
She groaned, as if he was deliberately taking away her time to play solitare on the computer. "Once you sign her in you can't get her back out unless Mrs. Shaw thinks she's recovered." She scoffed. "That almost never happens."
He breathed in. He had to get her out of here.
He came back the next morning and had almost the same conversation.
"Well, then, let me see Mrs. Shaw," he said this time.
The receptionist snorted. "Like that'll help."
Her eyes were on fire when she saw him in her office.
Mrs. Shaw immediatly tried to hide it. She blinked. "What can I do for you, sir?"
"I'd like to get Tawny out of here."
She chuckled coldly. "You just can't do that," she informed him, trying to be light and cheerful. "It's not fair for her to leave without recovering first, it it?
"It's not fair for her to be stuck here with you," he snapped.
Her face grew cold. She sat down in her chair across from him. "Is Wonka your birth name?"
"Uh, no."
"What is it?"
He blushed. "It's William Schmuckler."
"That's Jewish, right?"
"Yes."
"And do you go to temple or whatever you people do?"
He didn't like how she had refered to them as "you people". He sighed. "No. What's your point?"
She groaned. "Not only are you Jewish, and non-religious, you are living with a woman you're not married to. You are unclean!"
"And being anti - Semetic makes you machine wash clean?"
She leaned in. "These drug addicts and all you other people are not pure! I need to purify you, to claean you by any means necessary. With some people it's beating them, with some starving them - I'll do anything!"
He tensed up. She like a rabid animal, with a crazy, cold look in her eyes.
"So," he began slowly, "you've abused some patients?"
She laughed maniacally. "SOME? I've done that to ALL of them. And they can't go to till they repent and are clean. Sometimes I even mix drugs in their food when they're about to recover, just so they can go into remission!"
He slowly got up and backed away. "Uh . . . I think that's all I need," he told her, wary.
He left the room and sighed heavily. He was glad to be out of there. He pulled the tape recorder out of his pocket. Yeah, he had gotten all he needed.
___________________________________________________________________
Again, sorry if this is lame. I'm just trying to wrap things up. If you think it's lame, just put a brief message instead of a sarcastic one. I'm in tears . . .
Yeah . . . so, uh, thanks for reading!