Chapter 14

Charlie

"Beer is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy."

Benjamin Franklin

(A/N: The events in this chapter serve as a prologue and an epilogue to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and also sets up Wonka's character as he is presented in this story)

5 Years Ago:

The Blue Yeti handed the walrus a fancy pen. "I geev thees to future writerz, even zum as zick as you."

"Right." The walrus said. "The pen is mightier then the sword."

"Yep!" Blue Yeti said. "It is much more agonizing to have a pen driven through your eyez rather than a quick decapitation by zord."

"Not what I meant, but still..." The walrus said pocketing the pen. He didn't use it much, but it did help him in important future events when he needed it most.

In a country far, far away an oompa-loompa lay in a drunken haze on his cheap bed.

"Ah, my head loompa. My most trusted friend. " Said a voice next to him. "I almost gave up on finding you. As I was wondering how my candies got in the hands of rivals, how my company slowly lost profit as those scoundrels made money come right out of their fucking asses I remembered something. We were having a beer at the bar, and I remember you saying you wanted to rent a cheap house in the middle of nowhere, gorge yourself on chocolate and drink yourself to death."

The loompa groggily opened his eyes.

"And here I find you, living the dream."

A figure was sitting on the chair next to his bed. On his lap was a large rifle.

The loompa took a swig of beer. The bitter taste ran down his throat.

"Wonka, I didn't give any secrets away. I was always your loyal assistant."

"And did you REALLY think that showing my most prized secrets to complete strangers-- spies --was what I wanted you to do?"

"Under the circumstances--"

Wonka's face peered out from the shadows. "Be quiet!" It hissed.

"Do you know how much I hate children?" He said with a sneer. "Their little greedy mouths, their bloated faces..." He shuddered. "I'm going to have invite several of these repulsive...things...into my factory just to get a little buzz. To make my factory come out on top. I'm going to have all my human workers get fired, or have accidents." At this, he gave a laugh. Specially rigging certain devices so the slacker of that day would get brutally slaughtered always made him happy. "Your brothers and sisters will replace them." He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "Do you know how much I have set back by your putrid blunders?"

The loompa took another swig of beer. He wiped his mouth with the back of hand. His eyes had the glazed look of a drunk, but his voice was sober.

"As this is probably our last conversation, I want you to think what type of man you are, Wonka. What type of man would spend the majority of his adult life making chocolates for people you despise? Lord knows it doesn't pay the bills."

Wonka pointed the gun at the loompa's face and cocked it.

"What type of man, I ask you, would be such a disgusting creature as you. What type of man who enjoys tormenting peoples as long as he gets a cheap little song off it? L'chaim, fatty."

Outside the house the lights were off.

For a split second they were on.

BLAM!

And then they were off.

Several months later

On the glass elevator, Charlie looked at the other children go. He had won the contest, and the others had a lifetime supply of chocolate. As that would atone for the torment they suffered.

They had flaws; they were spoiled rotten, and a bit greedy, yes but did they deserve to be mutilated while green-haired imps sang satiric songs of their doom?

Willy Wonka made small quips at the children's disfigurements. Mike Teevee was now freakishly long and thin. Wonka laughed, saying he would be a good basketball player.

Charlie glanced into the man's eyes, and saw insanity.

Several months later, Charlie went to bed and Grandpa Joe tucked him in.

"Grandpa?"

"Yes, Charlie?"

"I've been thinking." Charlie said. "D'you...d'you think Wonka's a bit crazy?"

Grandpa sighed. "Yes, I believe he is somewhat loony."

"Did you see what he did to those kids?"

"Well, they weren't exactly the nicest of people."

"What, so you believe a girl who likes to chew gum should have her skin changed the color purple?" Charlie said, aghast. "I read in the newspaper that she committed suicide! Just grabbed a big wad of chewed gum and stuck it down her throat till she choked. Do you believe she deserved it?" He shuddered, imagining Violet's glazed eyes, her bloated purple skin and the gum spilling from her mouth.

Grandpa was silent on this.

"I'm scared, Grandpa." Said Charlie. "So scared.

Tears ran down Grandpa's face. He hugged Charlie tight. "Me too, Charlie. Me too."

The next day Wonka got the family right to work. Every one, from to Charlie to Grandma Georgina.

"But we're so...tired." Moaned Grandpa George.

"Get up, you worthless sack of shit!" Wonka tittered. "Did you really think if you were going to live in the Chocolate Factory, you'd just sleep and gorge yourself on chocolate? Get up!"

The whole family was sent to work in The Chocolate Room. With it lush, sweet edible grass to the plants that worked as teacups, it was a fine place to relax and eat. But not to work.

Charlie had to plant new fields of grass, as the grass was artificial. Sweat ran down his face. He had never been so hungry. He longed for the days of soup and bread in the run-down shack.

He plucked a single blade of grass, and stuck it into his mouth. It was lovely! It was sweet! Delicious! He could eat like a--

CRACK!

"Yeaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgh!" Charlie screamed as the whip was brought down on towards his back with a snap.

"Get to work!" Shouted Wonka. "No time for eating now!"

Charlie sobbed silently.

Grandma Josephine looked at the oompa-loompa working beside her.

"Hello." She said kindly. Her withered old face stretched in a friendly grin.

The loompa looked at her with a solemn, unblinking expression for a long time. It sent a chill down her spine. The loompa stared at her some more and went back to work.

Grandma Josephine moved on, tending to some licorice vines. Unknown to her, she got her foot caught in one. As she finished, she walked forward and tripped, the vine holding her down.

SNAP!

"Ow!" She cried in her shrill voice. "My ankle! Somebody, help! My ankle!"

Wonka walked towards her, and crouched down so he was height-to-height to her. He had a jolly grin on his face.

"Do you need help?" He said in a friendly voice."

"Y-yes." She said, tears running down her wrinkled face.

He pulled out a gun and cocked it. He pointed it toward her head.

"Here it is."

BLAM!

"Noooooooooo!" Cried Mr. Bucket at the sight of his mother lying sprawled facedown on the ground "You-you disgusting thing! You monster!"

"The feeling is mutual, old bean." He fired the gun and blew him away. Mr. Bucket's faceless corpse fell backwards onto the ground.

Wonka tilted the gun around, firing in all directions.

Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!

Charlie screamed in horror as pretty much everyone he called 'family' fell to the ground, their mouths wide open in surprise, their unblinking eyes filled with horror.

Everyone, with the exception of Grandpa Joe and Charlie, was dead.

"Run, Charlie!" Said Grandpa Joe. "RUN!"

Wildly dodging bullets, he pushed the little boy ahead and the two began running out the door and into a maze of rooms and corridors just as a bullet went into his thigh.

"Gaah!" He cried as he saw blood rise under his pants. Clenching his teeth, he pulled Charlie ahead.

"You can't hide from me, you shriveled old fuck!" Screeched Wonka hot on their trail. "No one can! When I'm done with you, you'll wish you were back at your friggin' tarpaper shack you called a house, starving to death!!"

They ran into one room that was filled with smoking pipes filled with steam. Several stains that appeared to be rust were on the wall. It was a dead end. It led to no other room.

They could hear Wonka's footstep close behind him.

"Hide!" Whispered Grandpa. Charlie climbed into a cabinet.

"I'll always love you!" Said Charlie.

"Me too, Charlie. Me too."

The door swung open. Wonka now held a small wand filled with sugar.

Grandpa stood there alone.

"Where's the little shrimp, old man?" Said Wonka.

"I don't know." Said the old man. "We got separated."

"You lie." Said Wonka. "Answer me!"

Grandpa felt himself being pulled towards the demented creature.

Wonka grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt. He punched Grandpa in the ribcage. He could feel very brittle bones cracking. The old man let out a scream.

"Answer me!"

Grandpa Joe stared at him in the eye. "Never." With that, he spat in Wonka's face.

"Agh!" Wonka said. He lifted the frail old man above his head. The old man stared down, at him silent.

Charlie peered through the small crack in the cabinet, tears silently streaming down his face. He could barely see, but he could hear perfectly.

He heard a brittle snapping sound, a moan and the sound of something heavy hit the floor. Charlie let out a small cry as he realized his beloved grandfather was dead.

Wonka dropped the corpse. The old man fell to the floor, his head at an impossible angle.

He thought he heard something. Had he? His nostrils flared. He walked on all fours, sniffing around.

"I know you're in here, you little brat." Wonka said, his voice hoarse and wary. "Come out.........and I'll give you.........some candy."

Charlie shrank back as far as he could inside the cabinet, silently sobbing. He could feel the hot breath of the madman vent inside like steam. He must've been a centimeter outside now.

Charlie closed his eyes. Minutes passed. He clenched his eyes shut. He shut his mouth, and he didn't dare utter a single breath.

He slowly opened his eye to feel the cabinet topple over forwards. Charlie let out a scream.

The wood above him shattered as a hand broke through it. It grabbed him by the cuff of his collar.

Charlie found himself in the grip of Wonka.

He let out a small scream. "Let me go, you monster! Let me go!"

Wonka grinned. His teeth, once nice, straight and white that showed a joyous if mischievous grin on them were now crooked shingles to a house full of screaming madmen. "You've been naughty, little boy." He said. "You need to be punished. Chastised." His hand slipped on one of Charlie's buttocks, caressing it.

Charlie let out a scream of pain and rage. He grabbed at Wonka's hands. Wonka let out a scream and dropped Charlie on the floor. He looked at his now-smoking hands. The hands turned to sand, and then crumbled to the floor.

"What is this magic?" He said with a loud scream. "I should only be getting blisters!"

Ah, but Wonka did not know the powers of special effect budgets and cheesy scripts.

Charlie lunged forward and ripped open Wonka's shirt revealing puckered nipples and sagging man-tits.

Charlie pulled at the two man-tits. They began to hiss and smoke and fall to the ground in clumps of sand.

Wonka let out a scream and ran off. "Go away, you're insane!"

Charlie let out a wild cry and jumped on Wonka. He grabbed both sides of his face.

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!" Wonka screamed. His words began turning into unintelligible mumbles as his face began to collapse in and disintegrate. His eyes bulged in before turning into blobs of mintjelly.

Wonka fell forward, nothing now but a bunch of old clothes filled with sand.

Charlie bent forward kicking at the sand, screaming. Then he collapsed on his grandpa's corpse, sobbing uncontrollably. He realized that the love of his dead grandpa had saved his life and had made him untouchable to Wonka.

After a minute or so, Charlie got up and wiped his eyes. He grabbed the hat from the twisted mess on the floor and walked through the maze of tunnels and rooms into the Chocolate Room.

The walls were stained with blood. Corpses littered the room. Loompas began sobbing.

Charie stood in the doorway.

"Ahem."

The Loompas looked at him in unison. Charlie held up the hat.

"He's gone now." Charlie said. "Gone."

The strange little people danced up and down with joy. They began singing merry songs in their own foreign language.

"Go forth and begin your new lives!" Said Charlie throwing the hat to the ground.

The Loompas ran off. After a month or so, they found a strange little man who lived in his mother's basement called the Plot Hole man. The Plot Hole Man was like the Oompa Loompas in many ways; he was short, fat with odd- colored hair and he loved to sing songs.

Charlie went to a low class orphanage, being as all of Wonka's funds were chocolate.

The factory became neglected. The machines grew rusty. The Chocolate Room was filled with the hum of buzzing insects, feasting on the rotting fruit and decaying plants.

Deep in corridors was a pile of sand and some worn-away clothes.

The sand began to move into a glistening blob of gelatinous goo.

The goo pushed itself apart as hand reached out. It grew longer and longer until it seemed a disembodied hand was in the middle of the room.

"This.........is God."

Charlie got up from bed, feeling a sudden flash of pain on his left buttock. It hadn't hurt this way since Wonka had touched it a long time ago.

Charlie closed his eyes, and he saw a naked blob-like thing crawling across the floor grinning, its large pendulous belly ripping open and legs sluggishly forming.

Charlie opened them. He ran out of the room with a muffled scream.

He needed somewhere to hide, but had nowhere to go.

Day after day, he slept in different houses fearful for his life. Fearful for the vengeance of the Candy Man.

One time, he thought himself lucky. He found himself in the house of an extremely attractive woman whom he found perfect in almost every way except for flat feet.

Charlie slept in comfortable beds, and if he were really lucky the woman would seduce him.

One day he woke up with extreme pain in his left buttock. He looked around. The window was shattered.

The only people in the room were the Plot Hole man and his Oompa Loompas.

Suddenly the door slammed open. Charlie let out a silent scream as Wonka stepped inside, a murderous gleam in his eyes.

Wonka's eyes surveyed the room. His breath stank of cheap whiskey.

From his pants, he pulled out a long rifle. He cocked it and shot the Plot Hole Man.

BLAM!

Blood showered the spawn of Roald Dahl in thick ropes.

The Oompa Loompas began screaming frantically in their foreign language.

"Damn sons of bitches." He growled. "Runnin' away from yer master! You work for me! YOU BELONG TO ME! Did you think Charlie exiling me from the factory would keep me away from him? I had worked hard to gain power, and something as silly as the love of his dead grandpa would save him?"

Charlie gulped. Did he know he was in here? He was silent, and he backed off into the corner. Hopefully in his rage he would not spot him.

An Oompa Loompa crawled towards Wonka.

"Please, forgive us master! Forgive us all!"

The purple-clothed figure pulled out a candy wand.

"Crucio!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The Oompa Loompa writhed on the ground in agony.

"The Candy Man doesn't forgive.........nor does he forget."

Willy Wonka walked around the circle of huddling midgets.

"Foolish, foolish people. Being the workers of a great candy factory or the muses of a man singing about plot holes in a deranged homicidal maniac who craves for attention's story!"

"Y-you've been reading Blue Yeti's psychological handbook haven't you?" Asked an Oompa Loompa.

"What if I did?" Breathed Wonka, his alcohol-breath staining the fresh air.

He walked back. "However, if you prove yourselves worthy of my power then you shall be welcomed into my open arms again. Kill Charlie Bucket!"

Charlie shrank back. He knew he was in here!

With a roar, he grabbed Charlie. Charlie's eyes were wide with fear.

"KILL HIM WHO DARES DEFY THE CULT OF WONKA!"

"Yes, oh mighty lord of Artificial Sweeteners!"

"Please!" Charlie sobbed. "Spare me!"

"KILL HIM!" Screeched Willy Wonka, his eyes full of insanity.

The Oompa Loompas descended upon Charlie. "NOOOOOOOO!" Howled Charlie. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The Loompas grabbed and pulled at him breaking bones and ripping flesh. Even his screams of agony were not loud enough to drown out the maniacal laughter of Wonka. He begged for the darkness but it never came.