He removed the cover to reveal… "Um… what is it sir?" I asked, very puzzled by it.
"Why," he said with a smile, "it's chocolate!"
"Not trying to offend you or your chef sir, but I'm not sure that I would like to eat it."
He gave me a sort of suspicious look and quickly stood up from his chair. "What do you mean; you're not sure you would like to eat it?"
"Well, it's just that it looks sort of… well… strange."
"You should not judge a book by looking at only its…" he paused for a moment.
"Cover, sir."
"Thank you. You should not judge a book by its cover. Sometimes, you can be seriously mistaken."
The misshapen pile of chocolate and some other things seemed to smell good, but I was still rather uneasy. "Perhaps I will pass on this, sir, but thank you for the offer."
"Nonsense! You must have the courage inside you to try something you have never had, that's the fun of it!"
The little man brought us two spoons with that same 'W' engraved in it. I gingerly picked it up, but held on to it in fear. It seemed that Mr. Wonka had a rather large sweet tooth considering… (Wow, his teeth were white!) Spoonful after spoonful, he kept eating it as if it were his last meal he would ever have. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," he said, now setting his spoon down, "I'm so used to eating alone."
"It really isn't a problem, sir. I don't eat much as it is."
"Yes, I figured that by how very small you are around your waist. You know, chocolate can help you with that. It really isn't very healthy to be so thin! In fact, I have never seen anyone as petite as you."
Did he just call me 'petite'?
I continued to sit there, not moving or speaking. Suddenly, he got up, walked over to me, and physically put the spoon into my hand. "There, that's better now isn't it?" As I scooped up a spoonful of the goopy concoction, I figured that I had no choice. Mr. Wonka was standing right behind me, supervising. As I brought it to my mouth, I became afraid once more. But if he can eat it, why can't I? The answer was in the question. However, I mustered up the courage, and I ate it.
Why had I waited so long!? Once I had swallowed it, I had to cover my mouth to hide the smile that had come across my face. Now there was another problem. I had to try to prevent myself from grabbing the plate and eating it with nothing but my hands! "Not bad," I said, keeping as calm as I possibly could, "not bad at all." A breeze of distress blew through him, I could see it. "Something wrong, Mr. Wonka?" (Oops, I actually called him Mr. Wonka!)
"I have never given this to anyone and had 'not bad' as a response. Something must have gone terribly wrong here! Whatever it is, it must be fixed at once!" he began to walk towards the door that led to the back part of the kitchen.
"Mr. Wonka, wait!"