AN: I've watched this movie recently so many goddamn times (my little
sister's performing in a play of it for her drama group, she's playing an
oompa loompa, LOL!) I just had to fall in love with dear Mr. William Wonka,
so I wrote this... Wonka, Charley and all the rest are property of Ronal
Dahl (I'm only "borrowing" them for awhile), Jinx, however and other
fictional characters belong to me... Enjoy!
Though the outside world was gloomy and dark, the black sky wailing, tears pouring down in bucketfuls as lighting lit up the night in a fearsome display and thunder rumbled like some hungry beast.
Inside Wonka's Chocolate Factory was warm and cozy, cheerful musical playing throughout the bright rooms filled with the delights and surprises that could satisfy the dreams and desires of any child for eternity...
And to one particularly lucky little boy, it had become a reality...
Charley Bucket sat by the edge of the chocolate lake. Surrounded by a mystical garden of lollipops and edible buttercups. Where over-sized gummi- bears grew off bushes and you could break open the huge mushrooms to scoop out the dark chocolate that filled them.
A magical, wonderful place, was Wonka's. And Charley Bucket grinned.
~
Three knocks happened upon the main door of Wonka's later that night, sharp and precise.
And it was the man in a brown top hat and purple tails who answered, bright blue eyes sparkling in a merry face framed by tangled blonde curls that stood on end like they had received an electric shock.
"Hark! Who might that be, a-knocking on my door?" He called.
Thunder rumbled, then a high giggle.
"Guess?" Came the reply, teasing and loud above the storm.
A playful smile played on Wonka's lips.
"Hmm, I wonder." He said.
"You know who it is! Do let me in, I'm getting wet!" The voice squealed.
"Well, we certainly can't have that, can we," Wonka said as he opened the door.
A strong gust of wind and rain blew in, bringing the visitor with it, who quickly hastened in shutting the door behind them.
They squelched in on muddy boots, staining the polished white floor in a trail of dirty boot prints. Shuffling in, dark overcoat rustling as water dripped everywhere, creating small puddles. They raised their head, shaking the mass of wet curls atop it,
Then...
A grin worthy of a Cheshire Cat,
"Dreadful weather we're having, isn't it."
And to that, Mr. Wonka topped his hat to his visitor,
"Indeed."
~
Should I continue?
Though the outside world was gloomy and dark, the black sky wailing, tears pouring down in bucketfuls as lighting lit up the night in a fearsome display and thunder rumbled like some hungry beast.
Inside Wonka's Chocolate Factory was warm and cozy, cheerful musical playing throughout the bright rooms filled with the delights and surprises that could satisfy the dreams and desires of any child for eternity...
And to one particularly lucky little boy, it had become a reality...
Charley Bucket sat by the edge of the chocolate lake. Surrounded by a mystical garden of lollipops and edible buttercups. Where over-sized gummi- bears grew off bushes and you could break open the huge mushrooms to scoop out the dark chocolate that filled them.
A magical, wonderful place, was Wonka's. And Charley Bucket grinned.
~
Three knocks happened upon the main door of Wonka's later that night, sharp and precise.
And it was the man in a brown top hat and purple tails who answered, bright blue eyes sparkling in a merry face framed by tangled blonde curls that stood on end like they had received an electric shock.
"Hark! Who might that be, a-knocking on my door?" He called.
Thunder rumbled, then a high giggle.
"Guess?" Came the reply, teasing and loud above the storm.
A playful smile played on Wonka's lips.
"Hmm, I wonder." He said.
"You know who it is! Do let me in, I'm getting wet!" The voice squealed.
"Well, we certainly can't have that, can we," Wonka said as he opened the door.
A strong gust of wind and rain blew in, bringing the visitor with it, who quickly hastened in shutting the door behind them.
They squelched in on muddy boots, staining the polished white floor in a trail of dirty boot prints. Shuffling in, dark overcoat rustling as water dripped everywhere, creating small puddles. They raised their head, shaking the mass of wet curls atop it,
Then...
A grin worthy of a Cheshire Cat,
"Dreadful weather we're having, isn't it."
And to that, Mr. Wonka topped his hat to his visitor,
"Indeed."
~
Should I continue?