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4
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"What's this?" Frank asked, dipping his finger into a bowl containing a yellow substance.
"Puppy-dog custard, but don't put your fingers in there! You're contaminating the batch! And go put an apron on."
Frank licked off his finger and went over to another of the large elephant hooks which stood in the mixing room where they were. He took off an apron and returned to the long table where other large bowls of various candy substances sat. He dipped his finger into a brown goo and licked it. "And this?"
"No more tasting! Put on that apron!"
Frank sighed and licked the remaining goo from his finger. He slid the apron out from under his arm and put it on, tying it at the back. Approaching the bowls once again, he took a glance at Wonka, saw that he was focused on measuring a box of something green into a bowl, and slipped his finger into a red jelly-like material. He licked it off and smiled in delight at the wonderful flavor.
Wonka turned around and approached him. "Did I not tell you to keep your hands out?" He said, slapping Frank's extended hands with his cane.
"I'm sorry. It's just that your candy is so good! How do you get it that way? Some of it can even be considered as good as sex!"
Wonka made a face as Frank used the word 'sex', nevertheless replied, "Normally I never give my secrets away, but since you'll be working with me now I'll have to. There's no way to really explain it with words, you'll have to watch and see how it's done. Then you'll know."
Frank nodded solemnly and slid a hand out from under the cane to dip it into a bubbly liquid. Wonka frowned and let out a sigh.
The lights flickered and in a matter of seconds the room was filled with Oompa Loompas. They all focused their gaze on Frank who stared at them with an open mouth. One by one they each raised a finger to point at him accusingly.
"Keep your paws always hidden, you naughty little hot dog!" They shouted together, then the lights flickered once more and they were gone.
"Strange little critters, if I do say so myself," Frank muttered, licking the liquid from his hand. "Mmmm!" He exclaimed joyfully.
"Enough contaminating taste-tests now. We need to measure all of the contents of these boxes into these bowls," Wonka explained, gesturing to a table with a stack of boxes and bowls atop its surface.
"Why can't the Oompa Loompas do it? They seem to do everything else around here."
"Yes, well this is the one thing I don't trust them with because they always seem to get it wrong."
"Measuring? What's so difficult with measuring?"
"Uhh... well based on their meager sizes... they suffer severely from height envy."
"Height envy?"
Wonka looked around, making sure that no Oompa Loompas were present before leaning into Frank's ear and saying to him quietly, "The poor fellows always add on those few extra inches."
"Ohh," Frank sighed, understanding the situation now.
Wonka pulled back and shook his head to himself. "Yes... it's a shame. But I guess we get all the measure-iffic fun, then!" He exclaimed happily, throwing his hands up into the air and approaching the table with the piles of boxes and bowls. He propped his cane upright on the floor against one of the table's legs and filled his hands with bowls, covering the table with them. When there was no more room left, he picked up a big box and began pouring the contents slowly and carefully into a bowl. He turned around shortly and looked at Frank. "Well? Grab a box."
Frank approached the table and took a box, opening it. He looked at Wonka. "What do you measure it with?" He asked, not seeing any measuring utensils around.
"Oh, you don't have to use anything to measure it with. These are special boxes I've invented myself that have specific automated measuring contraptions built inside. You see, there's a small bird that's taught the units and he's stuffed inside this here box. Every time he chirps an inch has went by. You have to listen very carefully for the chirps, though, because some of the little buggers are very quiet. Oh! There's one. That's four inches in the bowl now..."
Frank listened to the explanation, feeling that the entire idea was peculiar. "You measure in inches? I've never heard of anyone measuring edibles in inches. Usually it's in grams... milligrams... ounces... but inches? This is a very strange operation indeed."
"Well, we're a very strange factory and strange factories call for strange operations-- Wait... that's not right... Strange operations call for strange factories? No... Hey, there's another chirp! Oh no, I've lost count. Where am I?""
"Five," Frank said dryly, staring down at the box in his hands. It wasn't true, what Wonka had said. There's couldn't possibly be a bird inside every box. Not only a bird, but a bird who knew the measurements of units. Frank looked down into the box, expecting to see whatever compound that was inside and nothing else, but when he looked down he saw a small pink bird who stared up at him. He gasped and pulled his eyes away, immediately holding the box over a bowl on the table and pouring the contents out into it. The substance slid into the bowl quickly, the bird chirping the inches. Chirp... chirp... chirp...
"Not so fast! You'll lose count and so will the bird!" Wonka instructed. "They're smart, but they're not that smart."
Frank slowed his pouring down and looked at Wonka. "How many chirps-- uh, I mean inches, do I need?"
"Seven."
"Seven," Frank repeated after him. He had counted four chirps now. Chirp... chirp... chirp... "Okay. That's seven," Frank told Wonka after hearing the seventh one. He slowly pulled his box upward and looked at Wonka, wondering what to do next.
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay!"
"Well don't just stand there! Measure the rest of the box and then move on to others," Wonka explained, putting his box which was now empty off to the side and grabbing a new one.
Frank nodded and put his box off to the other side and took a new one. After opening it, he peered down into the box's insides to see the small bird staring up at him from within. This one was blue and as Frank looked at it, it offered him a wink.
Frank's mouth fell. He shot a glance at Wonka. "That bird just winked at me!" He shouted in fear, pointing at the opening of the box in his hand.
Wonka nodded to himself and giggled. "Ha. Yeah. They do that sometimes."
Frank raised his eyebrow and stared at Wonka in complete shock. "But... birds... boxes... can't measure... no winking..."
"You're funny," Wonka remarked with a smirk. He looked down at the box in his hands and realized that he was missing one of the utensils that was needed to stir the contents of the bowls after they would be finished with their pouring. He sighed and looked back at Frank. "Can you turn around and go just a little bit over that way to the storage cupboard to get me a stirring wand?" He asked, pointing to a cupboard across the room.
Frank turned his eyes to the cane which lay propped up against the table's leg and pointed at it. "Isn't that a stirring wand?"
Wonka tittered at the foolish man. "No, silly," he said, picking the cane up in his hand and holding it up. "This is a cane, not a wand. There's a difference."
"Well. Excuse me, then, for incorrectly labeling your wand."
"Cane."
"Right."
"Right! Now can you please fetch it for me?"
"Sure," Frank replied smugly, setting his box on the table and turning in the direction of the cupboard. Wonka continued to measure out his box as Frank approached the cupboard and opened the door to reveal a large variety of strange utensils. Many of them he had never seen before in his life. He was pleased to find that under each utensil's resting spot on the shelf, there were small plaques mounted, stating the utensil's name and purpose. He spotted a plaque which had the words 'Stirring wand' inscribed upon it shortly after he had begun his search and grabbed the oddly-shaped-spoon-like apparatus from the shelf. He glanced it over once, then returned his eyes to the array of items in front of him, furrowing his brow as he lay them upon a peculiar item which carried the plaque inscription of 'x-ray gun'.
He turned his head to the side to casually peer behind his shoulder. After seeing that Wonka seemed to still be well-occupied with his measuring (at the moment, he was bobbing his entire body rhythmically and looked to be listening to some kind of music as he did so) Frank turned his vision back to the opened cupboard, bit his lip in concentration, then grabbed the small x-ray gun, shoving it into his tiny black underwear. He finished up by closing the cupboard's door and starting back in the direction of the pouring station.
Frank came back and observed the bobbing Wonka, sure that the man had been listening to music but there was none, afterall. "Shouldn't you save your dancing for when there's an actual tune?" Frank asked.
Wonka continued to bob, as though not hearing Frank. Then after a moment he stopped and peered at Frank curiously. "Okay, hand it over," he stated.
"Huh?" Frank asked, confused. "Hand what over?"
"You know what. The x-ray gun."
"What? But how did you know?" He asked in shock.
"I have eyes in the back of my head," Wonka said in a matter-of-fact voice. He turned around slowly, lifted his hand to push up his hair and pointed to back of his head.
"Really?" Frank asked in wonder, trying to spot these eyes.
Wonka let his hand drop back to his side as he turned around and laughed. "No."
"Oh. Then how?"
"Let's just say... a little bird told me..." Wonka explained, sounding very sly at the moment. Suddenly one of the small birds flew out from Frank's hair and seated itself on Wonka's shoulder. Frank shuddered, thinking of the thing being inside his hair, and watched as it chirped happily on Wonka's shoulder and offered him a wink, as the other one had done before.
"Now, Frank. What use could you possibly have with an x-ray gun? You know, if you're going to work for me, you--"
"I'm not working for you, I'm working with you. This is a partnership."
"Yes, yes. It's all just apples and oranges, Frank. Apples and oranges. Now listen, I was saying that if we're going to be a partnership, I can't have you stealing my things. Can you assure me that you won't do it anymore?"
Frank offered a single curt nod. He raised a hand to his chest and made a cross. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
"Great!" Wonka replied in a cheery tone, which quickly dropped flat as he added, "Now get back to work."
Frank reached into his underwear and pulled out the x-ray gun, slamming it down on the table with one hand and slamming the stirring wand down next to it with the other hand.
"That was in your u-u-undergarments?" Wonka asked, gaping at the gun on the table.
Frank placed a finger on the metal and nodded. "Why, yes. Still warm, even."
The bowl fell from Wonka's hands and hit the floor, the contents spreading all around as he fell backwards along with it, passing out cold on the floor. The shock had been too great. Frank shrugged and dipped his finger into some of the substance that had been in Wonka's bowl, but had splashed over the table. He licked his finger and a smile came over his face as he exclaimed, "Mmmm! Strawberry!"