Summary: Willy Wonka makes a public announcement that
Charlie will inheirit his factory.
One week after the ending of the film.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the movie or the book. Which
would be awesome if I did, but alas, I do not. Also, I do not own Johnny
Depp, who is kinda named at the announcement. Oh, if I owned him. goes
off into fantasy land
A/N: This might be a tad boring, it's just setting up
the beginning for a series of CatCF fictions I've been thinking up. I need
them to start somewhere, and this made the most sense.
A/N2: Just for everyone at FF.N, I so much appreciate
your great reviews for First Kiss. I am planning a sequal, I just have
to wait for the right idea!
As usual Charlie Bucket had to squeeze his way into the crowd that stood vigilantly outside of the gates of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. Blurry questions were tossed out to him, but over all the other noises, he could not hear them. Though he could make a relatively good guess as to what they were. It was, after all, very unusual for a house to be taken from its foundation and moved across an entire town and placed inside a chocolate factory.
Charlie finally managed to maneuver his way through, whispering "Excuse me"s and "Sorry"s as he went. The police held back the citizens and the photographers and the interviewers as Charlie stood outside the gates, waiting for them to open. There was a moment when all he could hear was the jostling of the crowd trying to get a better look at him and the snapping of the cameras. For the most terror filled moment he thought that perhaps Mr. Wonka had forgotten that Charlie would be at the gates from school at exactly three o'clock.
"Welcome home, Charlie," came the booming, clearly excited voice of Willy Wonka through the loud speakers. The gates instantly opened and Charlie made to run through so as to quickly get away from the crowd gathered about. Screams followed him all the way to the entrance (thankfully the usual welcome was too badly burned to perform for him) and even after closing the heavy doors Charlie could still vaguely hear them.
It was as Charlie began to peel off his jacket, with all its patches and frayed edges, that he felt a sudden woosh of air and smelled glorious melted chocolate. He looked to see his mother standing in the doorway to the Chocolate Room, a smile plastered to her face. Always would she wiat by the door as he shrugged of his jacket and hang it carefully on one of the gold, newly installed, coat racks.
"Good day, Charlie?" asked Mrs. Bucket, putting her arm around her son and walking with him into the Chocolate Room.
"Great, we learned about the solar system," responed Charlie as his mother turned to close the doors behind them. It always pleased Mrs. Bucket that Charlie learned something other then how to make a Pink Scented Peanut Butter and Strawberry Flavored Coconut Bar.
They walked to the shack they called home, Charlie attempting to take a caramel candy, but was soon thwarted by his mother. She also did not believe in spoiling ones dinner, though that wouldn't be for at least two hours, when Mr. Bucket came home.
"Coming, dear?" asked his mother from the slanted doorway that led inside thier tiny home.
"Oh, no, not yet. Mr. Wonka should be down soon," said Charlie, brightly smiling. He stared hopefully around, looking for the Great Glass Elevator that he had become accustomed to flying about the place in a mad rush.
"Now, Charlie, you know the rule: You have to finish homework before you go off with Mr. Wonka," Mrs. Bucket replied.
"I know, I don't have any," was the unexpected reply from the boy.
"None, none at all?" his mother asked, afterall school was, amazingly, full of homework.
"I finished it all during lunch, I wanted to tell Mr. Wonka my idea as quick as possible," replied the boy, getting more excited. He bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet and continued to look this way and that, never knowing where the elevator would come from.
Finally, a glint caught his eye and Charlie watched as the Glass Elevator landed just infront of him, so close he could reach out and touch it. This, naturally, caused Mrs. Bucket to let out a gasp. But before anyone could see anyone, Willy Wonka stepped out an excited look over taking is features. All his perfect, white teeth were visible and his eyes were shining. He handed Charlie a small stack of cue cards without a word.
"What, now you won't even read off them, I have to do it?" asked Charlie, remembering Mr. Wonka's ability to read from the cue cards when flustered. But the candymaker made no move to read them himself, he just smiled and motioned for Charlie to read them.
"Alright," said Charlie, looking down at the cards."'I, Willy Wonka,' I don't like where this is going," Charlie interrupted himself, this was, afterall, how Mr. Wonka's declaration of the Golden Tickets had begun. But Mr. Wonka looked at him with still more excitement. So, Charlie continued, "'have a most important annou-'"
Charlie flipped to the next card, "'-ncement to make.'," again Charlie gave a wary look to his mentor, but went on, "'It is with great excitement that I," again Charlie flipped to the next card, "'share with the world that young Charlie Bucket will inheirit my fac-'" and one last time Charlie went to the next card, "'-tory.'"
Willy stood waiting for the reaction, but Charlie stood dumbfounded. He had been under teh impression that no announcement would ever be made. It was bad enough to have to go through the crowd every day when they didn't know why he was living in the factory, he couldn't imagine how it would be if they did.
"What do you think?" asked Mr. Wonka, the first thing he had said since entering the Chocolate Room. Charlie looked up to him, not exactly sure how to answer. He did not want to disappoint Mr. Wonka, but at the same time, was very uncomfortable with the idea of everybody in the world knowing he was an heir to a chocolate factory. It would make life a tad more difficult in the way of never knowing the motives of people you meet.
"Well," he started off tentively, "it's okay, I guess."
"Guess? What's the matter with it?" asked Willy, snatching the cue cards back and beginning to read them.
"No, the speech is fine. I'm just not sure if I want to make a public announcement," Charlie replied, speaking with a slightly shaking voice.
"But, Charlie," Mrs. Bucket unexpectedly entered the conversation, "you should be excited. Now everyone out there will know that the factory, and the candy, is in good hands."
"My thoughts precisely, my dear lady," said Mr. Wonka, tipping his hat to Mrs. Bucket. "Besides, Charlie, almost everyone has already guessed as much. I was talking to my therapist this afternoon, and he seemed to think it was a good idea."
Both Charlie and Mrs. Bucket decided not to compliment on the therapist portion of Willy's sentance. Still, Charlie did not much like the idea, but Mr. Wonka seemed so happy with it. This was, afterall a gift from him, and was still his factory.
"I guess that's fine," replied Charlie, with less then a little enthusiasm. Willy took no mind to this, smiling wide once again giving a little hop.
"Excellent, let's go," he said, holding his cain off the ground and using it as though he were a band conductor.
"Right now?" asked Charlie, agast. Willy turned around, cane still in the air, but the smile a little faded.
"Well, ofcourse right now, when else?" asked Willy, smile returning. He motioned for the boy and his mother to follow him.
"Wait a moment," said Mrs. Bucket. She stuck her head into the door and said to the grandparents, " Watch the television, Mr. Wonka will be outside shortly to make an announcement."
"But-but-" Charlie began to protest, but his mother pushed him along behind Mr. Wonka.
Outside a platform had already been set up by the police just outside of the gates. Even from the platform of the factory entrance, Charlie felt nervous butterflies trying to escape from the pit of his stomach. The camera flashes became more vigorous as Willy, Charlie, and Mrs. Bucket came forward. Questions were being fired rapidly as the gates opened and Charlie could just make out signs being held up high from behind the reporters. One, he was sure, said, "I want you, Johnny", though Charlie was not entirely sure who Johnny was.
Willy looked just as uncomfortable as Charlie felt. Suddenly the prospect of facing such a large crowd made his excitement take a backseat. He smiled nervously as he stood on the podium and the microphones before him let out feedback. Quickly, whether out of fear of standing alone so exposed before people or because he wanted to share the spotlight, Willy pulled Charlie onto the potium beside him.
Though Mr. Wonka was not one for touching, Charlie felt his very tight grip around his small shoulders, as though Charlie would soon drop right through the podium. Willy searched himself for the cue cards, finally pulling them from his coat pocket. Several small candies fell out as he did so, which caused a temporary uproar from the crowd to try and get them. For one hopeful moment Charlie thought that maybe the announcement would be called off, but after fifteen minutes the crowd was once again under control.
"I, Willy Wonka," the chocolatier began, to which a few girls screamed, making him all the more nervous, "have a most important announcement to make," he went threw the cards slightly more easily then Charlie had earlier, "It is with great excitement that I share with the world that young Charlie Bucket," he smiled to Charlie, "will inheirit my factory."
That had not been too awful, like a band-aid, really. The butterflies subsided, but Mr. Wonka's claw like grip on Charlie's shoulder did not. The flashes continued at a fevered pace and even more questions were shouted, not only from the news reporters, but from the crowd as well.
"Are you sure this was a good idea, Mr. Wonka?" asked Charlie.
"Ofcourse I am," he answered, though his death grip on Charlie's shoulders said otherwise. "Besides, what's the worse that could happen?"
To Be Continued...
Next time in my (untitled) series: Three days after the big announcement, Charlie is put into a rather tight spot and is forced to invite his class on a field trip into the factory.