The Ticket
Set one day before Charlie finds his Golden Ticket
Many years ago, a man named Gus had worked in the chocolate factory along side Joe Bucket and hundreds of others. He'd had daily contact with Willy Wonka himself and he'd been exceptional at his job. He'd been devastated when the factory had closed. Now, Gus ran a newsagents' shop in the town still dominated by the factory's shadow. Once, life for the workers in that factory had been interesting, unpredictable and entertaining and now, Gus' life ran like clockwork. As such, at the same time every night, he closed the shop, but this time something rather different happened that made him almost jump out of his skin. Just as he was walking over to the door to lock it, a distinctive, cheery voice suddenly spoke from somewhere in the dark room.
"Heya, Gus," the voice said and the shopkeeper jumped.
"What the..." the man muttered and flicked on the lights. "Mr. Wonka, sir!" Gus exclaimed and breathed a sigh of relief. No one could ever forget a man like Willy Wonka, especially considering the fact that he dressed so distinctively, never mind his memorable voice.
Willy Wonka was leaning against the wall, a shadow in his long black overcoat and glasses with his cane in his hand and his top hat on his head. "Long time no see," the pale chocolatier said to him.
"Y...yes, sir," Gus nodded, still shocked. "H...now did you...I mean..." he trailed off.
"Door was open," Willy answered calmly, as through this was a regular occurrence. "Don't mind, do you?" he asked.
"Of course not, sir...but...erm...well, did you come in to...buy something or..."
"Nah. Actually, I'm surprised you remembered me."
"You're a difficult man to forget," Gus replied.
"I am?"
"Yes, sir," Gus nodded, still calling the man 'sir' out of old habit.
"Oh, well then," Willy shrugged, "That's good, I guess. Anyway. I didn't come here to buy anything. I came to talk to you."
"To me?"
"There another 'Gus' 'round here?" Willy grinned.
"Not that I know of," the shopkeeper smiled back.
"That's good news."
"...Erm...why'd you come to talk to me, sir?" Gus asked. Not that he resented the man for being there or even for firing him and his colleagues, but he was naturally confused. Eccentric chocolatiers didn't just drop in to his shop on a regular basis for a quick chat, after all. This was the first time he'd seen the man in person for years now and everyone knew that Willy Wonka never left his factory.
"Golden Tickets," Willy sighed and leaned heavily on his cane. "The whole thing's a nightmare, y'know?" he muttered.
"It's erm...it's good for business," Gus replied, not knowing what to say.
"It's not good for me."
"So...it wasn't about the money, then?"
"Course not? Who cares about money? Money's boring!" the billionaire eccentric claimed, rather ironically, Gus thought.
"Lot of people round here'd disagree with that, sir."
"Really?" Willy asked, genuinely.
"Really," Gus nodded, seriously.
"Oh. Well...the money isn't the point."
"Then what is? And why come to see me?"
"Well...its like this, see. I was takin' a nice long walk in the factory by the river and I thought, 'hey, there's only two days left and all the kids who've found the tickets so far are no good so you'd better do something, fast'," Willy said, hardly stopping for breath. "I mean, One of them seems to have a brain at least, but the kid hates chocolate. The other three are spoilt and greedy and just useless. I really don't have any hopes for any of 'em. They're just...they're no good," he sighed.
"No good for...what?"
"And the whole thing's over in two days," the chocolatier lamented, not answering the question.
"Sir...what exactly was the point of this whole Golden Ticket idea?"
"Doesn't matter now, I guess."
"There's still one left."
"I know and I know exactly where it is, too."
"Where?"
"Somewhere here. I sent it here. Figured I'd take a chance on this town," Willy said.
"Here...as in...my shop?" Gus asked, stunned.
"Uh-huh," the man nodded. "Must still be here...thought I'd come and give ya a nudge about it," he said.
"There's...a lot of chocolate bars here."
"I'll find it," Willy shrugged, seeming unconcerned. "And I need you to get it to a kid that's not greedy, or over confident, or spoilt or thinks he's a little know it all. Can ya do that for me, Gus?"
"I erm...don't really know all that many kids, sir," Gus replied, still not sure what the whole thing was about.
"Oh," Willy said, despondently, his head lowering.
"Why do you need to find someone like that?"
"I..." the chocolatier began after taking a deep breath. "It's...it's important," he said, desperately.
"Why, sir?"
"Can't tell you."
"Well...actually, I know a man. Worked with me up at your factory. Joe Bucket. Good man. Nice family. Been down on their luck for years. He's got a grandson and from what I know, he's a good kid."
"How 'down on their luck'?"
"'Bout as bad as it can get. They've got no money. They buy the kid one chocolate bar a year. I offer 'em more...special discount for a pal, y'know. But they won't take it."
"One bar a year?!"
"Yeah. For his birthday. Kid loves it."
"Huh," Willy hummed, quietly, "Well, if he loves candy, that's a start, I guess...and that's one more bar than I used to have, anyway."
"What's that, sir?"
"What? Oh, nothing," the chocolatier shook his head. "This kid can't be worse than the others," he shrugged. "I dunno what I'll do if this doesn't work out, y'know," he said.
"I still don't know what all this is about," Gus said.
"You will," Willy replied, "When its all over."
A.N. I watched some YouTube videos about the whole golden ticket idea being Wonka's way of getting Charlie out of poverty but doing so in a round about way to avoid suspicion. I find that difficult to believe. But I can believe that he spied on the kids that won and then deliberately tempted them with things they loved whilst they were in the factory, like chocolate and chewing gum and tv. I'm going with the idea that he was simply lucky enough to have found a kid who's genuinely nice to be his apprentice but he had a little help along the way. The help in this case, is his friendly neighbourhood newsagent.
