A/N: I was originally planning to respond to reviews only when I thought that I was getting a sufficient number of them, but what the heck, I'll start now!
Gs33022, that's a good guess, but no, this is not the 2005 Scarlett, or even a passing reference. This story is 100% the 1971 characters (could you imagine all of the extra, size-based chaos if the 2005 version of Violet had to deal with this situation? :-O), but since the 1971 version of Violet's mother was never named, I just went ahead and called her Scarlett like in the other movie. Just in case you're having trouble picturing her while reading this, it's very subtle, but she is seen for about three or four seconds during the Golden Ticket interview. She has somewhat blonde hair in a curly, puffed-up style. (She is the woman standing behind Violet's left shoulder.)
Not long after Violet started high school, the family was in over their heads. Puberty was the main culprit, causing issues in both the physical and mental senses.
Violet had a growth spurt shortly after she turned fourteen, including the natural widening of her pelvis. While growth spurts in general were nothing new, this pubescent one caused a night and day switch (no pun intended). Extra weight that came naturally from adolescence meant extra weight as a blueberry. Violet had always been rather large in her blueberry form, but this extra mass added a bit to her circumference and depth. Most problematically, she was starting to get too wide and heavy for her bed, nearly touching its rails and leaving dents in the mattress.
Sam and Scarlett knew that they were at a loss. While other developments did not have an effect (for example, while Violet's newly-developing breasts were just barely forming on her normal body, they did not affect the shape in the front of the oval, hence causing no inconvenience), the house simply was not suited for someone with spherical proportions. There had even been some nights when Violet couldn't get into her room in time, but the doorway was now too small to fix that by waddling through, or even by tipping forwards and having her parents roll her in.
...
"Our daughter," Sam broke to Scarlett one morning at the kitchen table, after Violet had left for school, "is going to NEED an extra caretaker." Noticing his wife's skeptical look, he continued, "Yes, I know that we've tried our absolute best. We've made accommodations left and right, but hear me out: I don't know what we're going to do about her living space. There is no place around that sells beds made for near-spheres who weigh however much she does. We also can't widen her room."
Scarlett realized that Sam was right. Unfortunately, going through with finding a third hand would mean having to disclose the spell. At least relatives knew about the situation.
"Well, Lauren lives just across town. Maybe she could come over in the evenings?" Lauren was Scarlett's sister, who also lived within Miles City. She was the excited aunt who got a picture with Violet the very day she was born, before anybody discovered the little thing that happened at night.
Sam shook his head. "She would be helpful, but not useful, if you get my meaning there. What I'm talking about is somebody who can manage to adjust everything to Violet's needs. At this point, we're going to need a miracle to get through this!"
"Yeah, I see your point." Scarlett replied. Sighing, she continued, "Fair folk are few and far between, though. Most of the people in this world are not capable of magic in any sense of the word."
Sam looked at the clock hanging over the doorway to the living room. "Well, I'm sure we'll think of something. In the meantime, the local news is set to come on in a few minutes." He got up and headed to the living room, turning on the TV. As the news was only about a half-hour long in the early mornings, he always had time to watch before heading to his job at the car lot.
...
"Hey, Scarlett, come look at this!" Sam called suddenly, not even ten minutes into the broadcast. It was a commercial break, and one particular commercial had caught his eye.
"What is it?" Scarlett asked, noticing his excited beckoning and coming in.
"You'll see!" Sam replied. He walked up to the set and turned up the volume dial just a tad so that Scarlett could hear everything clearly.
The commercial in question was a cartoon advertising the Willy Wonka candy company. Flashy, colorful images showed a huge collection of products that were unique to the candy maker's ability. The Beauregardes recognized many of them immediately: non-melting ice cream, chewing gum that never lost its flavor (which Violet had taken a liking to chewing, over some of the regular stuff), candy balloons, and bird eggs that turned into sugary candies shaped like birds. The real purpose of the commercial was to advertise his newest creation, the Scrumdiddlyumptious bar, which drew in the couple even further.
"CHOCOLATE ON THE OUTSIDE! A SECRET RECIPE ON THE INSIDE! THIS BAR NEVER WILL MELT EXCEPT INSIDE YOUR MOUTH!" the advertisement's voiceover practically shouted. "TRY ONE TODAY: THE WONKA SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUS BAR! BRAND-NEW IN STORES THIS WEEK!" At the final image of a cartoon split candy bar with the filling showing, the commercial ended.
Sam looked at Scarlett in awe. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Scarlett grinned, a bit of a twinkle visible in her eyes. "Of course! Willy Wonka is as close to a magician as anybody! If he can accomplish the impossible by making ice cream that doesn't melt, then I'm sure that he can make some sorts of renovations or something!"
"That's exactly what I meant!" Sam replied. "Who knows, maybe he can even do something to lessen the spell! You know, give her a gumdrop, and POOF—she gets a few extra hours bought at night before her transformation takes hold!"
"There is a bit of a problem, though," Scarlett added. "Willy Wonka has been in hiding within his factory for about the past decade, ever since those spies almost ruined him. Do you think that he'll really be willing to come all the way here just for occasional babysitting? Seeing that he's the busy owner of a corporation besides, I seriously doubt it."
"You have a point. However, I still think that it might be worth a shot at least to write him about our problem. Maybe his mysterious workforce can figure out something while he's stationed."
Scarlett gave an optimistic shrug. At this point, the news had resumed from the commercial break, causing them to cease conversation temporarily. As Sam got up to readjust the volume dial on the TV once more, Scarlett went into the family office to look for a phone book in order to find the factory's postal address.
...
To the office of Mr. Willy Wonka,
Hello, we are Sam and Scarlett Beauregarde from Miles City, Montana, United States. We are having a bit of a problem and would like to ask for your possible service. We realize that you might not be able to help us out, due to personal reasons, but we felt compelled at least to try to write you.
We have a daughter named Violet. She is fourteen years old and is our only child. Unbeknownst to folks outside of our family circle, she was cursed as an infant. A witch cast a spell on her that turns her into a blueberry every night. Well, sort of. She doesn't become the actual fruit, but her skin turns blue just before her body fills up with multiple gallons of blueberry juice until she's nearly spherical. She keeps her head, neck, hands, and feet (her arms and legs are lost during these times), and her hair stays unaffected. If we had to guess, we would say that she is about two and a quarter feet wide and three feet deep as of starting puberty. She can waddle, but her hands cannot do much. Unfortunately, we cannot do anything about the curse as of now. The witch who did it laid claim that this would not stop until a significant other who was an ideal match kissed her for the first time.
We have tried to deal with this situation in the best way that we possibly can. Unfortunately, it has started to get out of hand. Our doorways are now getting too small for her frame, and her bed is starting to show signs of weighted stress. We are worried that she might eventually break the latter. (We never have had to worry about Violet's clothes. For some reason, they stretch with her body every time she expands and shrinks, and she has never shown any discomfort or ever complained that they were getting too tight. We have decided to assume that they shapeshift, too.)
Earlier today, we caught sight of a commercial of yours on the television set. It occurred to us that if you could make amazing creations that could defy human understanding, then perhaps you could make something that will help with Violet's condition, or at least help us with her living arrangements. (We are thinking of accommodations such as remodeling.) Again, we realize that you may not be willing or able to assist, due to your long-term concealment from the public eye, in which case we will try to find other sources of help, but any slight bit of effort would be appreciated. In the case that you will be available, we will be glad to disclose our phone number and other essential information to you in a follow-up letter.
Sincerely,
Mr. and Mrs. Beauregarde
Sam pulled the sheet of paper from the typewriter, reading the letter over again with Scarlett looking over his shoulder. "Do you think that this looks good?"
"I would go ahead and mail that," Scarlett answered, nodding. "I would, however, advise against telling Violet about this just yet. We don't want to get her hopes up in case Mr. Wonka says no."
"I'll agree with that. After all, having a hope spot diminished is one of the worst feelings in the world." Sam folded the letter and stuffed it into the envelope, licking it closed and addressing it. On his way to the car to drive to work, he popped the envelope into the mailbox.
As was agreed upon, when Violet came back from her bus stop that afternoon, her parents did not disclose anything about the TV commercial, idea, or letter, and she thought that it had been just a typical day for them. Still, the duo kept their fingers crossed. Would Willy Wonka be able to help them, or wouldn't he? If so, how?
...
Sam and Scarlett finally heard back from the candy-making genius within a week. Violet had gotten home from school within the hour, and she was in her bedroom, doing homework. Sam picked up the mail on his way into the house from work, and the first thing to catch his eye was a purple envelope, sealed with a gold "W" in Wonka's company's stylization. Excited, he hurried into the house.
"Scarlett! He actually answered us!" Sam cheered. He was so abrupt that Scarlett almost froze in shock. He was practically dancing, which was very out of character for him.
"Who? Willy Wonka, or our electrician?"
"Willy Wonka! Take a look at this!" Sam showed the gold "W" seal to Scarlett, his eyes twinkling like a little child's on Christmas morning.
Scarlett took the envelope and looked for a letter opener. "Well, I hope it's something good."
Once the letter was out, the two of them read over it. Mr. Willy Wonka's response was not what they had expected and left them absolutely dumbfounded.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Beauregarde,
I am very sorry to inform you that there is nothing that I can do about your daughter's situation. As you have mentioned, this curse was cast by a witch. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to help, I cannot make any sort of product that can defer this. Witches' spells are far too powerful for the rest of us—even geniuses—to overthrow. (Oddly enough, this reminds me of a situation I faced a few times when workers tried an unready product of mine! That was fixed with an in-factory machine, but even if I used it, she would just revert the next night.) If there is only one way to break the spell, then I regret to disclose this, but it will have to be broken in the specified manner.
I also cannot help with the problems that have arisen within your house. As you are most likely well aware, you are located all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and then some. I want to assist, but I have to stay and take care of the factory. If I went out in public long-term away from the factory, I would not be able to ensure that a breach of spies would not happen again. Additionally, my candy-making business would slow down considerably, and my live-in workers would go for long periods of time with their caretaker missing. For these reasons, I have to stay hidden from the public eye for now.
I am, however, willing to make an alternate arrangement. I do not usually allow foreign entry for fear that someone may be an undercover spy for one of those three thieving companies, but since you did not request entry in your original letter, I feel that I can make a trustworthy exception. If she can, I suggest that Violet come and live in my factory temporarily. I have a housing development in the far corner of the building, and everything both there and in the factory proper is wide enough spatially. In addition, I will be able to provide her with a suitable bed and other facilities. Since I am obviously no teacher, if you were to accept the proposition, her schooling would be at a local establishment, just like any other school out there. If you feel that you must move in with her, by all means, do so, but I realize that you might have other circumstances preventing this. Even if you will have to leave her with me, rest assured that I will take very good care of her. Of course, I realize that this whole idea may be impractical completely, in which case you are free to decline.
Please write me back about your decision soon.
Sincerely,
Mr. Willy Wonka
