Author's note: Right, my one review for the last chapter spurred me to do this chapter. Thanks bloomacncheez!

Mr Teavee marched to the small purple door at the end of the winding corridor. Well, he didn't march. He sort of shimmied. The fact that the corridor was quite narrow and bendy coupled with the ceiling that gradually slanted downwards made it hard for him to properly march. By the time he got to the door he was slouching. He knocked on the door with his left hand (his right was trapped between his thigh and the wall). He waited just a few seconds before Wonka opened it, his hat hastily shoved on his head.
"What?" he asked brightly but with a dash of irritability.
"I want to talk to you about Mike," Mr Teavee stated. He tried to sound concerned and urgent but he could barely breathe in the cramped corridor so it came out as more of a gasp.
"What about him?"
Mr Teavee squirmed in an attempt to get more comfortable but succeeded only in whacking his head against the ceiling, "Uh, could I come in?"
Wonka didn't seem all too keen on the idea but waved him in anyway. Mr Teavee looked around, hardly containing his disdain. The walls were purple, the carpet was purple and the ceiling was purple. The bed was purple and red. The lamps were red. The curtains were red. There were huge pictures of Wonka…everywhere. A small work-desk in the corner of the room was littered with drawings and designs for upcoming chocolate. Just above the desk-lamp was a small picture of Mike with several suspicious, dart-sized holes in it. Mr Teavee ignored it.
"Mr Wonka-"
"Please," Wonka interrupted, "call me Willy!"
"Mr Wonka," Mr Teavee continued after a short pause, "Mike is only fourteen years old. He cannot be expected to work in these conditions. He often gets home in the early hours-"
"It is his decision as to how long he works," Wonka butted in again, "He does have a tendency to push himself to the limits, that's true, but in the world of business that's very important!"
"But he's tiring himself out! He'll have grey hairs by the time he's twenty-five!"
Wonka giggled, "That's hardly likely. I've almost got my Hair Toffee perfected!"
"Listen," Mr Teavee pushed on through gritted teeth, "My son – oh, you have got to stop flinching when I say that! – my son is a hard-working boy, I admit, but this is going too far. I'd like you to get him home by ten, if you can. Earlier, if possible. And if his blood pressure and stress levels haven't improved the next time we take him to the doctor, I'm holding you personally responsible!"
Wonka tilted his head slightly to one side and stared at him for a bit, "That's kinda irresponsible, dontcha think?"
"What?"
"Well, like you say, he's your son. Not mine. I would never, ever have children. And even if I did for some weird reason, I would not raise it to be a monstrosity like Mike."
"Excuse me? Monstrosity?"
Wonka nodded and said bluntly, "Yeah!"
Mr Teavee balled his fists in rage. How dare Wonka insult Mike like that! OK, so he wasn't a basket of roses, that was for sure, but Wonka didn't even know him! Not properly. Not really…

Mr Teavee span round and stormed out before he could do any damage to the insane chocolate-maker. He swung open the door in fury and immediately smacked his forehead against the frame. Remembering how small it was, he ducked and made his way back down the precarious corridor. By the time he got home it was almost half past five and Mike was already up.
"Where've you been?" he asked his dad as he poured milk onto his cereal.
"To see Wonka," Mr Teavee said, then instantly wished he hadn't. Mike slammed the milk carton on the kitchen counter, spilling a fair amount.
"What?"
Mr Teavee shrugged to cover his nervousness, "Well, I had to. It was unreasonable to keep you working like that!"
Mike sighed and dug a spoon into the cereal, "Why do you always interfere?"
"Who else would?"
The spoon stopped half-way to Mike's mouth, "You say it like it's a good thing."
"If I didn't interfere every now and again…well, I wouldn't be a very good father of a fourteen year old, would I?"
Mike couldn't help but laugh, "I guess. Still…can you just leave it be from now on?"
Mr Teavee nodded, "I'll try."
A beeping noise emanated from Mike's wristwatch. He threw his uneaten spoonful of cereal back into the uneaten bowl of cereal and grabbed his bag from the side. As he reached the door, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned back to see his father staring right into his eyes.
"Don't go."
"Huh?"
"Don't go," Mr Teavee repeated giving Mike a small shove towards his bedroom door, "Take today out to catch up on sleep. Take all day if you have to, then tomorrow we'll all spend the day together as a family."
"But-"
"I'll explain to Mr Wonka if he comes by," Mr Teavee soothed.
Mike hesitated. He really needed to go to work on his video-game project, and that included talking a few things over with Wonka. But the thought of his pillow was so inviting…
Before he knew it, he was snuggling into his covers and dreaming of Wonka tied to a stake with flames everywhere.