Author's note: I love the list in this chapter. I had great fun making it! Hope it makes sense…

8

"Heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh…"
Mike eyed the giggling Oompa-Loompas with disdain.
"What's so funny?" Possessed Jr. asked with a sneer; Mike was beginning to develop a soft spot for that sneer. He looked at Violet carefully whilst Wonka said something to do with cocoa beans that Mike really didn't care about. Neat blond hair, smooth fair skin, sparkling emerald eyes…if only she didn't chew that damned gum!
"…triggers the release of endorphins."
Mike's ears pricked up at the sound of science.
"Gives one the feeling of being in love," Wonka concluded.
"You don't say…" Mrs. Possessed said flirtatiously. Mike's eyes flickered between her and Wonka and he felt physically sick. Wonka didn't look in great shape, either.
"All aboard!" he yelled nervously.
Everyone piled into the boat. Mike managed to get on the same seat as Possessed Jr. but her mother pushed him out of the way before he could sit with her. He faked a trip to make it look as though he was stumbling to get to his dad, who was one row back. He took one last look at the chocolate room, wondering if he'd ever work up enough courage to talk to Violet…or Claire…or Veruca…
"Onward!"
The boat gave a small jolt, but other than that, Mike found the ride quite pleasant. Boring, but pleasant. Sailing through chocolate was somehow not the same as sailing through water; sailing through chocolate felt smoother, and it gave Mike a strange, calming impression that, due to almost 13 years of constant gaming, was an alien experience for him.
"You already said that," Satanic Kid suddenly said. Mike was confused for a second before Wonka moved on to what was clearly a completely different subject.
"You're all quite short, aren't you?"
Noooooo, never…
"Well, yeah," Possessed Jr. said, spinning round in her seat, "We're children."
The corner of Mike's mouth lifted into a half-smile.
"Well that's no excuse, I was never as short as you."
Mike turned around, "You were once."
"Was not! Know why?"
Mike prepared to launch into a lengthy scientific speech about how it was impossible for him not to have been a child, with lots of unnecessarily long words that Wonka would definitely not understand, but Wonka beat him to the explanation, "Because I distinctly remember putting a hat on top of my head. Look at your short little arms."
Mike, beyond all better judgement, actually did look at his arms, then blushed and considered jumping into the chocolate river for the second time that day.
"You could never reach."
Wish I could, Mike thought, Then I could punch your lights out.

From where he was sitting, Mike had clear views of both the girls. He knew it was sick and wrong, and if anyone was reading his mind at that moment they'd probably hit him, but he started comparing Violet and Veruca. Weighing up their good points and bad points. Seeing who was…better, really. He drew up a mental list.
GOOD POINTS –
Possessed Jr.: Pretty, lives relatively nearby, can hold her own, able to argue.
Satanic Kid: Nice hair, easy to get parents' permission to be her boyfriend, bubbly personality, able to argue.
BAD POINTS –
Possessed Jr.: Probably already has a boyfriend, is a clone of her mother, GUM CHEWER!
Satanic Kid: Lives on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, overly-demanding, no escape route out of being her boyfriend due to being overly-demanding.
Mike pinched himself on the wrist; he had used the word 'boyfriend' three times!

Suddenly, Mike was thrown back in his seat as Wonka yelled, "Full speed ahead!"
They entered into the dark tunnel before them. Mike squinted into the darkness for any sign of anything sane, but the combination of the pitch-black surroundings and the fierce breeze pounding into his eyes made it impossible.
"How can they see where they're going?" Possessed Jr. shouted over the roaring noise and heavy drumbeats.
"They can't," Wonka shouted back, "There's no knowing where they're going. Switch on the lights!"
Finally, some flashing, coloured lights appeared and Mike got a glimpse of the tunnel up ahead. But they didn't go through that tunnel. Instead, they plummeted downwards. He gripped onto his seat for dear life, his carefully spiked hair flying in all directions. It was too fast for any conscious thought to cross his mind; it was too fast for him to take anything in; it was even too fast for him to scream. For what seemed like hours, they hurtled through the tunnel, the boat spinning and swaying madly, until Mike eventually got used to it. His breathing and pulse rates dropped a little, and he even began to feel quite exhilarated. He looked over at his dad who looked positively ghastly.
"Isn't this cool?" Mike yelled over at him, "It's like being in a real-life video game!"
Mr. Teavee smiled weakly and turned ever so slightly green. Mike couldn't help but laugh. He let the gusting wind blow over him as the boat lifted clean off the chocolate, enjoying the flying sensation, before it slammed back down into the river. He realised he was breathing heavily when the boat slowed down and cruised into a cavern surrounded by lots of vaults, some of which were open, some of which weren't.
"Keep an eye out," Wonka told them, "We're passing some very important rooms, here."
Clotted cream…double cream…sour cream…Mike began to see a pattern …Hair cream?
"What do you use hair cream for?" Mrs. Possessed asked with a look of distaste.
"To lock in moisture," Wonka replied, patting his hair lovingly. Mike's attention was drawn to his own hair, which was in a state of disarray. He ran a hand through it in an attempt to get it back to normal.

He heard a strange sound emanate from one of the open vaults…sort of like a cow being whipped…
Sure enough, there was a cow being whipped by four Oompa-Loompas.
Nice…real nice, Mike thought.
"Whipped cream!" Scruffy said jubilantly. Wonka looked at him, almost adoringly, and replied, "Precisely! Haha!"
Immediately, Scruffy became Mike's primary competition. He was already at the top of Wonka's list, and he seemed to have something against everyone else.
"That doesn't make sense," Satanic Kid said, turning around again.
"For your information, li'l girl," Wonka replied, with a bright voice, but a stony face, "Whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Everyone knows that."
Satanic Kid pouted and tried to maintain her glare against Wonka's, but he won in the end and she had to turn away…and looked right at Mike. He gave her a sympathetic look; one he hoped would say 'yeah, I agree, he's a freak'. Apparently it did, and she smiled at him. He grinned back before being thrown back in his seat again. He sighed; even chocolate rapids were getting boring…
"Stop the boat!" Wonka cried, "I wanna show you guys something."
Mike looked up, running his hand through his hair again, and saw another large vault door: Inventing Room.
This oughta be good.