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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Willy Wonka dismissed the band of tourists (as I saw fit to call them) and they all went scampering off with glee. He cocked his head in my direction. He didn't have to look very far down to meet my eyes, for my eyes came just up to his nose. He made a gentle little shooing motion with his hands and I cautiously crept around the place, watching the ground for any holes or soft spots where I might sink, and just being generally my cautious self.
"Daddy! Look! Up there! What is it? It's a little person!" Veruca Salt pointed and, naturally, she had to be the center of attention.
Ms. Beauregarde came up behind Veruca as did the little girl's father. "There's two of them!" she said, pointing to another one not far away from the first.
"There's more than two," Mr. Teavee said, as everybody else rushed up.
"Are they real people?" I asked wonderingly, coming up behind everybody and, once again, startling them. Mike glared at me, and I supposed that was what he was going to ask.
"Of course they're real people, they're Oompa-Loompas!" Mr. Wonka gaily replied, smiling. "Imported direct from Loompa-Land."
"There's no such place," Mr. Teavee interrupted, his face pinned in a bored expression.
"'Scuse me?" Mr. Wonka said softly, looking at Mr. Teavee out of the corner of his eye.
"Mr. Wonka, I teach high-school Geography and I'm here to tell you –"
"Then you'll know all about it and oh, what a terrible country it is." I giggled, and once again no one took notice. Mr. Wonka's face was smug and he looked at Mr. Teavee sideways as if to say, "I dare you to say one more word concerning the subject of Loompa-Land not existing."
I stood there and listened to him recount his exploration of Loompa-Land, my imagination whirring and clicking like gears as I began to imagine myself in such a predicament as that. A smile spread over my face as I imagined the wonderful place that could seem only to be in a dream-land. As soon as he finished everything hushed, and I realized they were staring at… well, me. I realized my head was tilted to the side and an ear-to-ear grin was on my face.
I blinked rapidly and tried to fix my face. My face must've looked pretty funny, for it felt funny. It felt like I was trying to be a sourpuss like Mike Teavee and still have that dreamy expression. Everybody started laughing except for Grandpa Joe and Mr. Wonka, who looked at me almost knowingly.
Everybody stayed where they were, but I went scampering off to inspect some more of the wonderful fantasy land of the Chocolate Waterfall room.
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"Augustus, my child, that is not a good thing you do!"
My head popped up from behind a fudge mushroom I had been inspecting. Laughter from nearby told me Charlie had witnessed my 'popping up'. I smiled in his general direction, when Mr. Wonka's voice caused my head to snap around.
"Little boy! My chocolate must be untouched by humans hands…" His voice trailed off with this last word, telling me that his orders hadn't exactly been obeyed. I scrambled over the fudge mushroom and went sprinting down towards the spot where the action was, tumbling right into Augustus Gloop, who was stuffing his face with chocolate from the chocolate river. He fell in with an almighty splash, and I was splattered with chocolate.
I cringed backwards at the last second, avoiding falling in myself, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the inevitable; for someone to push me in. When nothing came except a strange choking noise, presumably feminine, and the sound of Augustus Gloop splashing around in the thick chocolate, I cracked open one eye. No one appeared to be paying attention to me except for Mr. Wonka, who was staring at me quite peculiarly.
Mrs. Gloop was in hysterics. "He can't swim, somebody save him!"
"Help. Please. Murder." The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them; and then that horrendous giggle slid out of my throat like something disgusting and slimy. Mr. Wonka's expression deepened at my giggle but he said nothing.
"Help him!" Mrs. Gloop shrieked, her hands clutching at her chubby cheeks, her carrot-colored hair coming out of it's… whatever it was she had in it. A bun or something. "Augustus!"
I watched in near fascination, sitting Indian-style on the ground, as a pipe lowered down to the chocolate and began to suck it up. A whirlpool began to form in the middle of the river, and before anybody knew what was happening Augustus Gloop was sucked up the pipe. He appeared, gasping for breath, clogged up in the pipe just above the river.
Everyone watched, transfixed, as Augustus Gloop went shooting further up the pipe.
"It's a wonder that pipe's big enough," Ms. Beauregarde said speculatingly, staring upwards as Augustus shot up the pipe.
"It's not big enough. He's slowing down!" Charlie cried.
"He's gonna stick," Mike commented.
"He stuck!" I replied, a little too gleefully, I think, for everybody's eyes turned to me questioningly and then turned back to the problem at hand.
"Call the fire brigade!" Mrs. Gloop practically screamed, clutching at Willy Wonka's coat. He cringed and pulled back abit.
"Lady, do you realize how long it would take to bring the fire brigade in here?" I demanded crossly, and Mr. Wonka gave a startled little gasp.
"That's what I was going to say!" he said hurtfully, pouting at me. The soft strains of music reached my ears and I turned my head slowly in that direction.
"What's going on?" I asked in a hushed voice, my head inclining towards Mr. Wonka. He smiled in the general direction of some Oompa-Loompas nearby.
"Why, I believe they're going to sing us a little song," he replied coolly, "it is quite a special occasion, of course… they haven't had a fresh audience in many-a moon."
I watched, awed and horrified, blah-ed and glorified (just kidding), as the Oompa-Loompas all spontaneously burst into song. As they sang about Augustus Gloop (something about him being a great big greedy nincompoop), Mr. Wonka bopped his head back and forth joyfully, really getting into the song. I thought it was sortof a catchy tune.
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When the song had ended and all the Oompa-Loompas went back to their tasks, Mrs. Gloop clutched even more to Mr. Wonka's coat, reminding me horribly of some goblin clutching at your clothes and trying to drag you down into the earth.
"Where is my son, where does that pipe go to?" she cried, hysterically throwing glances from the pipe-line to Mr. Wonka.
"You'll never get to him in time," I said brightly. "He'll be made into marshmallow fudge in a matter of moments."
"Don't be silly, girl! That's preposterous!"
"Why?" I asked, startled at Mr. Wonka's sudden retaliation.
"Because that pipe just happens to lead to the room where I make the most delicious kind of strawberry-flavored chocolate-coated fudge!" he replied cheerfully, twisting his cane around in his hand and grinning dazzlingly.
"Then he will be made into strawberry-flavored, chocolate-coated fudge? They will be selling him by the pound, all over the world?" Mrs. Gloop fretted, her face drawn taught with worry.
Mr. Wonka's face worked around and then he smiled. "No. I wouldn't allow it." Mrs. Gloop's face relaxed, and then he said: "The taste would be terrible." She stared at him like he was insane. "Can you imagine Augustus-Flavored Chocolate-Coated Gloop? Ew! No one would buy it," he said solemnly, and her face immediately soured up a bit.
Willy Wonka turned and made a strange ululation by fluttering his tongue rapidly. An Oompa-Loompa came hurrying over and stood in front of him a small ways away. "I want you to take Mrs. Gloop up to the fudge room, 'kay? Help her find her son." The Oompa-Loompa nodded and then Mr. Wonka added, "Take a big stick," he poked his cane in the air to indicate a big stick, "and poke around in the big chocolate mixing vat." The Oompa-Loompa clapped his hands cross-ways over his chest and then bowed. Mr. Wonka did the same, then turned and grinned at everyone as Mrs. Gloop was led away, one of the tiny men leading her by pulling on her skirt.
We were all standing around the edge of the river, most of us nervous, wondering what was going to happen next, when a sort of chant reached my ears.
"Hmmm-ah! Hmmm-ah!" My head turned in the direction of the chanting, and from out of the darkness of a tunnel came a-floating a Pink Raspberry Sugarboat in the shape of a seahorse.
"How fitting," I murmured to myself, throwing glances at Mr. Wonka and everybody else. Everyone except Mr. Wonka seemed petrified. The boat stopped in front of us with little to no sign that they were stopping. All at once all of the Oompa-Loompas began giggling madly.
"Whazzo funny?" I demanded, looking around us. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Maybe they were giggling at me.
Mr. Wonka leaned down to the other kid's eye levels. When he did that he went past my eye level. "Y'know, I think it's from all those gosh-darned cocoa-beans!" he said brightly, as the Oompa-Loompas continued to giggle slightly.
"Y'know, the cocoa-bean triggers the release of endorphins, gives one the feeling of being in love," he noted, grinning still. I looked up at him, my eyes shimmering with admiration.
"You don't say…" Ms. Beauregarde said slyly, giving Mr. Wonka a foxy look. I glared at her. Evil lady!
"Yes, he does say," I snapped, and she stared at me. I blinked. Why did I say that? I had absolutely no reason to say that. It didn't even make sense.
"All aboard!" Mr. Wonka said, the big grin on his face nervous and fake. As soon as Ms. Beauregarde passed him he dropped the grin to swap it with one of utter freaked-out-ness. I couldn't blame him.
I sat down in a small spot next to the edge of the boat, the spot to my left unoccupied, thank the Lord. I didn't need to be sitting next to anybody, seeing as how they still all regarded me as though I were toxic. Mr. Wonka, Charlie, and Grandpa Joe were behind me, while Ms. Beauregarde and Violet were in front. I almost had to think that Mr. Wonka was glad that I was between him and Ms. Beauregarde, for as soon as I sat down behind her he gave a soft little sigh of what sounded like relief.
"Onward!"
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A/N: -Rolls around in a little ball, singing.- Oh dear, I fear, that I'm haaaaaving too much fuuuuun! -Stops and blinks.- Oh. Eh-heh-heh… sorry. –Unfurls and stands tall.- Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker! Haha! No, I'm not drunk. I just thought I'd say that. 'Cause liquor will affect you quicker than candy will. 'Specially if the candy is made out of liquor. –Deep, meaningful sigh.- I've barely really started this fanfiction and already my mind is buzzing with others! I swear, my mind is so annoying sometimes.
Thank you, thank you, all my reviewers, who aren't many! I appreciate your taking the time to review and making me a happy author.
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.