Disclaimer: The Author of this fanfiction is not using this story to gain money in any way, shape, or form, nor does the Author claim ownership of the fictitious characters created by Roald Dahl, used most recently in the 2005 Tim Burton film Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Summary: A stupid little impulse story the Author simply had to give her mind time to write, for otherwise it would continue to plague her brain until she did. The Author has written a story about what would happen if a girl with her own frame of mind happened to 'gain access' to the amazing Chocolate Factory of Willy Wonka.
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I kept a very close eye on the crowd as I scurried soundlessly towards the door at the end of the hall. I didn't know for sure if it was a door they were going to go through, but a person could assume, couldn't she? (And here my dad would break in to pompously state: 'Never assume, Lisha darling.') I tilted my head softly to the side and stared at the door, now having a closer view of it. It was so small!
Their voices alerted me to the fact that they were approaching. I whirled around, saw that they were fast approaching, and slid into the shadows. I watched as Violet (assuming that this was Violet. Assumptions assumptions!) hugged Mr. Wonka suddenly. I watched as he cringed away.
"I'm Violet Beauregarde," she said in a sickly sweet voice, her gum snapping and popping in her mouth as she chewed it.
"I don't care," he said softly in what seemed near terror; then he began to march on.
"Well, you should be," she said pompously, keeping steady rhythm with the tall man. "Because I'm going to be the girl who's gonna win that special prize in the end."
"You do seem confident, and confidence is key," he said, that same expression kept upon his face. He quickened his pace abit, trying to keep ahead of the kids and their parents.
Veruca Salt jumped in front of Mr. Wonka, who leapt back with such surprise that I was surprised he managed to keep upright. "I'm Veruca Salt," she announced with grandness only found in rich spoilt kids; she smiled brightly.
Willy Wonka blinked and then grinned. "I always thought a veruca was a wart that grew on the bottom of your foot," he said, and before Veruca had time to answer Augustus Gloop barged in on the conversation.
"I'm Augustus Gloop. I luff your chocolat." His voice was thick, as Germans so often were. Willy Wonka stared at him and then grinned even wider than he had before.
"I can see that! So do I. I never expected to have so much in common." His voice dripped with fake enthusiasm and sarcasm, but judging by the looks on everybody's faces nobody caught it. Mr. Wonka was about to continue when he paused, the strangest expression on his face; he turned, and looked directly at Mike Teavee. "You. You're Mike Teavee." I had to control myself from giggling at this point, because he made obvious the obvious. "You're the little devil who cracked the system." He turned from the sour-faced Teavee and grinned in Charlie and Grandpa Joe's direction. "And you. Well, you're just lucky to be here, aren'tcha?"
Wonka turned and they all followed him towards the front. Just like sheep. I giggled into my hand as a picture enveloped my mind unwelcomingly; everybody as sheep and Willy Wonka dressed up in a Shepherd's getup. I dissolved into soundless giggles at this; I had barely even seen Willy Wonka and here I was imagining him in bibbed overalls and a straw hat, clutching a crook.
I had to bite my tongue to stop my giggling and sat up straight. They were all gathered around the little door.
"Why's the door so small?" Teavee snapped, apparently directed at Mr. Wonka. His face was still sour. If looks could kill, Mr. Wonka could have dropped dead, which was a very frightening thought.
Willy Wonka ignored his expression and tone of voice and replied cheerfully and with that ever-present grin: "Why, it's to keep all that chocolatey goodness inside!" He reached down and jammed a key into the little lock, then shoved the doors open, and it turned out that the whole wall was a set of double doors.
When everyone had slipped through it I slipped through it myself, keeping to the shadows and darting ahead further from the tour and strange tour-guide. I finally sat down some distance away under a mushroom that looked suspiciously like fudge. I scraped a tiny bit away from it and licked it, to find it was fudge. What startled me was the fact that I found this completely unsurprising.
Seeing as how I was some distance away and it was so warm in here as apposed to outside where it was frigid, I thought maybe I could quick rest mine eyes. After all, it wasn't as if I was really going to get caught. I was quite a distance away, and I felt slightly tired.
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The next thing I knew was that I was staring into a pair of vividly purple eyes, attached to a head with a section of a funny cut crop of chocolate colored hair and a black top hat with waffle-cone-style trim.
I yelped all too loudly and backpedaled with my sneakers and hands, forcing myself up against the Fudge Mushroom and scrunching my upper torso near-flat against its enormous umbrella top's underside. My cheeks felt hot and flushed and my breathing came in short, rapid gasps, as if I'd just run a mile. I was under there for several moments before the same head appeared below me, upside down and staring at me with those freaky purple eyes.
"Greetings, child of Earth! Err… you are a child of Earth, yes?" He stared at me, then gave a little gasp that I could hardly believe to come out of a man. "Or maybe… maybe you're an alien! Come to send me a message!" He straightened his top hat, and clutched the cane in his hands a little tighter. "Oh dear dear dear. Hm. Is your name Scarlet? Because you sure are scarlet." He blinked.
"N-n-n-n…"
"Oh come now! Out with it!" He rapped his cane hard on the ground made of either chocolate or more fudge. It gave an unpleasant squish and his cane stuck there. He pulled it out with a squuuuuelching noise and frowned at the end of it, which was dripping goo.
"N-n-n-nosir," I said fast, stammering, my words blending together. My heart pounded like a bongo drum. "M-m-my n-n-name is Alisha."
His brilliantly purple eyes twinkled merrily. "I always thought that Alisha was something they used to walk dogs in Italy!"
I stared at him. So this was Willy Wonka. I found the thoughts that trailed through my head went something like this: He's really handsome. Oh stop that! What, he is. And you know it. Oh, I do not. Look at him! He's… he's… Come now. Say it. He's handsome.
My left eye twitched noticeably, and I slowly relaxed my body. He didn't seem like he was going to punish me, so I stopped worrying. Some. He grinned wide and beckoned me forward.
"C'mon now. C'mon. You can do it. C'mon!" He said all this very softly, as if cooing to a baby who was taking her first steps. My mind seemed to whirr at this. He seemed all so very sane when I first saw him, and now… well… he didn't seem so much so. "Oh, confusticate it! Come on! We have so much time and so little to do!"
I lifted a finger and opened my mouth to say something about that when he grinned sheepishly. "Take it, switch it," he declared, then twirled primly and set off in the direction of the others, his coat billowing merrily behind its master.
I scurried after him with much regret. I'd been found, unfortunately. I stayed steadfastly behind Mr. Wonka as he stopped and I almost crashed into him. He paid no more attention to me than if I were just another piece of the grass beneath our feet.
I received many stares, and Ms. Salt pointed and whispered to her daddy about me. I cleared my throat, causing Mr. Wonka and everybody else to jump. I stared pointedly at Veruca and ignored the weird stares I was receiving from Mr. Wonka, and said, in the most serious tone I could muster: "I'll beg you kindly not to whisper behind Mr. Wonka's back. It's very rude."
Charlie seemed to have been the only one to get it, for he began giggling helplessly at my remark. Willy simply stared at me like I was demented and then gave a silly little giggle that, if I had paid more attention to it, would've found it exactly like my own. He mumbled an "Okay then… moving on…?" and without any further ado marched off across the bridge over the chocolate waterfall.
He stopped abruptly and turned to face the tour. "The waterfall is most important," he said, swaying forward slightly, as if to let the people get a better look at his handsome face. Yes, I say it. Handsome. "It churns up the chocolate. Makes it light, and frothy." He made an absurd churning motion with his hands and I giggled. He glared at me out of the corner of his eye and continued. "By the way, children: No other factory in the World mixes its chocolate by waterfall. And you can take that to the bank!"
He stood aside while everybody passed him, and as they continued on without him, he cleared his throat and said, "People!" rather loudly. I, of course, was still stuck to his back. Which I don't think he took very kindly, because he looked down at me and cleared his throat harder at this.
I gave a squeak and scurried out from behind him. He pointed behind him, then turned his gaze to see like he was one of the spectators himself. His purple-latex-gloved finger was pointing at a large piece of silver machinery that was suspended in the air, with a large attachment of clear-and-silver pipeline leading out of it. "That pipe," he said, "sucks up the chocolate. And carries it away. All over the factory." He waved his hand to further assist his explanation, and he talked as if he were carefully lecturing a small child that 2+2 always equals 4.
The tour proceeded on, and finally Willy Wonka stopped them all again. "Please have a blade of my grass, please do," he said, grinning again, "it's so delectable and so darn good-looking!"
I giggled rather loudly, and found myself thinking about the fact that I had giggled more today than I had the entire month. "You can eat the grass?" Charlie asked in a hushed tone, everyone ignoring my stupid giggling fit.
"Why of course you can! Everything in this room is eatable, even I'm eatable," he said, and I wondered how he could keep such a straight face because I was giggling so badly. "But that is called cannibalism, my dear children, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies." He said this with such solemness that I couldn't help but giggle harder.
Finding myself thinking about an absurd and second-meaning sentence of what he said and shut myself up immediately, a light blush creeping into my cheeks. Good thing no-one really noticed.
"Are you hot or something?" Teavee asked me sourly, noting my face was slightly red.
I stared at him, then grinned slightly. "Did you know your face looks like you just swallowed an entire lemon?" I asked cheerfully, bouncing once or twice on the balls of my feet. "'Cause your face is really sour!" I giggled helplessly at my stupid joke and he rolled his eyes.
"Shows what I get for talking to a girl."
"Shows what I get for talking to a thing!" I replied, my voice dripping with a sour enthusiasm. My grin widened as much I possibly could force it before splitting my whole head in half.
"Augustus, my child, that is not a good thing to do!"
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A/N: Here you go. Haha. I had fun playing out Wonka's eccentricities. I spent my time well into the night last night thinking up this scene, and, well, I enjoyed it. Hm. I know there are a lot of fanfictions out there like this one, but I'd have to say that I thought mine up well enough. I hope all of you will take the time to review, which you haven't recently, but I won't let that get my hopes shattered. Bleh.
Reviewers: As I've always said, I'm open to praise and flames. Just don't banish me to the Eternal Stove. Argh. But also as I've always said, flames just force me to build a barrier, build my character, and hone my writing skills. So there. –Wink.- And I can rhyme, too.