"GODIVA HERSHEY ALMOND COCOA WONKA!" a voice bellowed from downstairs.
"Huh? Huh?" Godiva bolted up in bed, frazzled. "What?" the sleepy sixteen-year-old looked around blearily. "Dad? Huh?" She'd been having a perfectly wonderful dream, before her father's voice had torn them to shreds, jerking her back into reality. She heard a succession of loud footsteps storming towards her room.
"Godiva!" her father shouted. "How many times have I told you to keep away from the chocolate vats if you insist on letting that snarled rats nest that you call hair continue to grow? I have had thirty complaints of hair being found in people's chocolate this morning alone! Thirty! That is absolutely ridiculous! Not to mention disgusting! Who will want to eat Willy Wonka's famed chocolate products filled with the ever-appetizing strands of hair! NO ONE!"
"Calm down Dad…It's only a bit of hair. I swear it won't happen again. And besides, it not as if I intentionally put it in there anyways," Godiva pouted.
Willy Wonka stared at his surrogate daughter for a moment. It had been a little over sixteen years since that fateful day her father had handed his daughter over to him. He'd known the man had been less enthusiastic over having a child than his wife, but this had been ridiculous! Claudia had been in hysterics, but eventually subdued by a rather large quantity of sedative chocolates.
And thus, he'd taken in his 'daughter', Godiva Hershey Almond Cocoa Wonka. It hadn't been long after he'd adopted the girl that her parents had left the village for good. But truth be told, he'd never regretted taking the girl in. He loved her with heart and soul, and wouldn't give her up for the world.
But sometimes…the girl was so darned frustrating! She had up and down refused to cut her hair since her sixth birthday when he'd first suggested it (her hair had been past her knees already!)
"That is it! So help me God if I get one more complaint," he hadn't finished his sentence before there was a light knock on Godiva's door. "Oh, God, what is it now?" he raised his hands in a pleading motion towards the ceiling.
He walked to the door and threw it open; there standing in the hall was Bertie, one of his more ambiguous oompa loompas.
"Yes, Bertie?" he asked with a sigh.
"Mr. Willy Wonka sir, there is a client waiting for you in the foyer, I believe she mentioned something about hair and chocolate sir. You might want to hurry. She seemed quite distressed."
"Oh, wonderful, absolutely brilliant," he muttered. Godiva innocently twiddled her thumbs on the bed, ever-so subtly whistling and looking about. He waved Bertie into the hall. "You," he said pointing at his daughter.
"Um…Yes, Daddy?" Godiva asked sweetly.
"To the tower with you!"
"WHAT!" Godiva squealed, jumping out of bed.
"I am going to lock you away in your little play tower in the woods until you allow me to have your hair cut, and that's final."
"Never!" she screeched.
"Well, I guess you'll be up there for quite awhile now won't you?" he stated simply.
"But—But--…DAD!" his daughter sputtered.
"Alright then, we leave tomorrow. I suggest you pack now. You won't have much time later. Good day, to you darling daughter," And with that he spun around, fairly floating out of the room.
Godiva stood there, mouth gaping, arms raised in indignation. She let out a frustrated scream before throwing herself on to the bed.
Reviewers: First of all, to my lovely Kage-Motslaur-chan, likewise, I too blink. After such a long pause of silence you deign to speak! Well let me say…I am honored. And as for garotte dearest, your wittiness touches my very soul! Blindsandshutters well, you are truly a magnificent soul of which none can compare except perhaps the lovely Kage and Garotte –chans. And as for P.P.M. the only true reviewer, who neither had to be a)forced to review or b)coerced out of silence by shock, let me say, I am proud. As for anyone else who's for whatever reason read this and not reviewed, a gentle reminder…The devil holds a special place in his firey comforts for those who decline comment on marvelous masterpieces. But then again, perhaps you were awed into shock, no?