I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. A lot happening here, so I'm going to jump right into things. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 65
The depressing view off the 14th floor of 8 Canada Square at Canary Wharf could be attributed to the dreary weather sniveling outside the window, but it could also be attributed to the soul-sucking boredom of the marketing meeting inside the conference room as well.
Balding men in plain grey suits and nearly identical ties were pointing at flip charts and chanting focus group and target audience statistics in a monotone that lulled one into a trance – so when someone shifted or coughed, it made everyone else in the room jump and glare at the offending party.
Victor had long since drifted into a semi-doze and managed to tune out the annoying voices. He swiveled back and forth in the chair, creating a comforting rhythm that further soothed him into daydreams of television appearances and the fame and money that resulted.
Slugworth was only listening with half an ear, perusing instead the research and development report relaying the costs for developing dandy dishes from the notes that Victor had turned over. There was some fine tuning to the recipe that had to be done since Victor's notes were incomplete, but his chief flavorist insisted that it was something that could be done via logical substitution. Slugworth himself was a little more dubious – long-time conflict with Wonka and trying to reverse engineer his inventions had taught him that there was always a catch. Then again, this wasn't Wonka himself, but his arm-candy artisan partner…maybe it could be that easy…
The air conditioning kicked on, adding yet another level of white noise to the proceedings. The speaker tried to raise his voice slightly to project over the new layer of noise, but the result was still losing most of what was being said.
Victor frowned as the noise grew louder. What kind of AC did this place have? It was nearly 65 degrees in the room already and it sounded like a jet engine whistling through the vents.
Slugworth looked up, annoyed that the drone of voices had stopped because of the roar of the AC. "What's the hold up? Continue. Otherwise we'll have to work through lunch as well," he boomed, clearly heard.
The speaker at the front coughed nervously, "Um, Sir. No one can hear what's going on. Besides, shouldn't we call the building superintendent – it's only March, the AC shouldn't be on yet…"
Victor was mildly amused with the byplay but jumped when the director of Marketing pointed to something outside with a shriek.
There were shouts of surprise and a general scramble to turn and see what she was pointing out.
The roar grew louder and they could now tell that it wasn't the AC unit at all, it was the transparent glass craft descending into view outside the window. Inside were three figures and none of them looked too pleased.
Victor felt a surge of horror as he recognized the cold glare of Satan from his nightmare. The same frightening figure stood poised, wearing a dark maroon frock coat, dark paisley shirt with black slacks and vest only relieved by a shining silver "w" pin at his throat. The shining black top hat with dark maroon band made him loom tall over the others in the glass enclosure.
Standing by his side was Veronica, in her usual grey and light heather green casual wear. Her hair was the only bright spot of color in the immediate view and her face was highlighted by flushed cheeks, but a gleam of the fiery fury he'd seen still glimmering in her sparking bright hazel eyes.
Standing just behind them was a dark man in a black suit and somber mien like a well-dressed funeral director.
Slugworth snarled, "Wonka!"
The dapper man slid open the door of the glass elevator, ignoring the fact that they were nearly a two hundred feet above the ground. He placed his gloved palm against the wet glass of the window and everyone could see a small device pressed between the glass and his hand.
"What do you think you're doing you lunatic!" roared Slugworth, pushing himself to his feet and glaring at the figure on the other side of the glass.
Wonka smiled like a shark and pressed a button on the other side of the device hidden from their view.
The window shattered.
Cried of alarm and panic filled the conference room with the sounds of shattering glass. Shards covered the floor and water trickled from above starting to soak into the carpet.
Wonka shook his hand, as if it were asleep and returned the device to his pocket, "Man, that tingles," he muttered as he stepped into the room off the Wonkavator. Veronica and the dark man did the same to stand behind him, leaving the craft hovering outside like some strange parasitic closet.
"Hi Slugworth! Long time, no see. Nice place you've got here," Wonka said with a bright smile, as if he was just meeting them in the park.
"Wonka! What the hell are you doing? You'll pay for that property damage," Slugworth growled, glowering at the dandy confectioner.
"Bill me. I thought this would be the best way to get your attention. I just wanted to talk," Wonka chirped, tip-toeing around the worst of the damage to look over the marketing posters for the Dandy Dishes.
The last time Slugworth had seen Wonka in person, he was still a slightly awkward young man who seemed to be constantly tripping over his own feet. But with the addition of nearly 20 years, the figure before him moved with a confident self-assurance that he knew exactly what he was doing – there would be no bullying him this time around.
"Then make an appointment like a normal human being – I should call the police on you," Slugworth said, relaxing his shoulders as if comfortable with the situation. Victor could see a muscle ticking in the man's thick jowl.
One of the brighter executives slapped the covers over the posters and glared at him. Wonka shrugged and sauntered slowly toward Slugworth.
"Why would you do that? After all, we're all friends here. No need to be rude. I can't abide rudeness," Wonka drawled, stopping to delicately pluck a piece of lint of the R&D's suit with a scrunched nose. He dropped it with a look of disgust before continuing.
"We're rather busy here right now. Why don't you come back at a later time to chat?" Slugworth purred, glancing at the shattered window and mentally tabulating the replacement costs.
"Why Slugworth – that's why I'm here," Wonka brightened, throwing his arms wide as if to encompass the room and its occupants. "Such busy little bees, all buzzing around the hive…of course, that could be said the same for wasps as well, but bees make honey which is actually sugar so the analogy is quite appropriate."
He paced around the back of Slugworth where he stood at his chair, the old man not turning to watch his progress.
"You see, bees are quite vigilant guarding the entrances, but if one wasp can slip in, they've got full reign of the hive," Wonka said, slipping behind Victor and taking a moment to painfully flick his ear before moving on.
Victor grabbed the ear and glared up at the confectioner, his initial fear fading as he realized that the crazed person in the room was not the same dark figure that haunted his nightmares.
"What are you on, Wonka?" Slugworth huffed, rolling his eyes. This was only one reason he despised the man – his weird tangents.
Ignoring Slugworth, Wonka returned to Veronica's side, giving her a quick wink before turning to face the room.
"You've got a wasp in your hive Slugworth. I thought it only fair to warn you before you do something potentially disastrous – like proceeding forward with a product stolen from someone else. Not that that has ever stopped you before…"
Slugworth slapped the table, glaring at Wonka, "Nonsense! You've crashed through the window, barged into my meeting without invitation and now you stand there making threats. Make your point and get out."
Wonka shrugged, "Alright then, since we're such plain-spoken men. Victor Brahm is making some false claims about who the creator of the candyglass material your dishes are made up of. Pressing forward will result in a patent lawsuit – and considering my associate and partner in these products, Ms. Veronica Carmichael here is the inventor, I recommend you back off. You won't be able to afford the court battle."
Victor lunged to his feet, snarling at the small group in front of the window, "Bullshit! It's mine and I've got the notes to prove it."
Veronica stepped forward, facing her accuser directly for the first time since the competition the previous fall, "You watched over my shoulder and wrote down what you saw – but you never understood the reasoning or the processes. You're a monkey working as a mechanic and you know it."
Victor brought himself up to his full height and sneered down at her, "Just because you've hopped into Wonka's bed doesn't mean you've got the right to barge into here and make such claims."
Wonka stiffened, but Veronica laid a hand on his arm in warning.
"Just because you pose prettily for the cameras doesn't mean you've got the talent to back your claims," she sneered right back, putting her hands on her hips.
Victor saw red for a moment, and he was tempted to slap the shit out of the mouthy bitch in front of him. She'd changed from when he last saw her – she too radiated self-confidence, something she'd been severely lacking when she'd worked for him.
Guess sleeping with the most powerful confectioner in the world would do that for the little gold-digger, he thought nastily as he brought himself under control.
"Why don't you head back to his factory and get back to work – flat on your back. After all, you should go where your talents lay, right Veronica?" he purred, giving her a deliberate once over and lingering over her body.
Wonka stiffened even further and his smile faded into the cold glare that he recognized from his dreams as he insulted the woman at his side. He could hear the gloves squeak on the top of his cane as he clenched involuntarily.
"If that's the case, shouldn't you be posing for more websites?" Veronica said sweetly, smiling up at him. "I understand you're quite popular with the gay leather set."
He started to lunge forward, but Wonka and the somber man were in his way as he tried grabbing the source of his frustrations.
"Bitch! I'll strangle…" he screamed, face bright red with fury.
Wonka took the opportunity to jab his cane painfully into his ribs, driving the breath from his lungs with a great whoosh. Victor doubled over as he fought for breath. He fell back into his chair and gasped loudly.
"Now, now. Let's keep out hands to each other, kids. Remember sticks and stones and all that," Wonka said smoothly, hiding the impulse to lash out at Victor again just for the hell of it.
Slugworth was impassive to the scuffle and ignored Victor's wheezing, "So, why are you here? To make some threats and abuse our spokesperson? You could have phoned ahead for that."
"Nope!" Wonka said, popping the last 'p'. "You see, as much as I would like to do nothing better than dismantle you in court, it wouldn't really solve anything. You'd still have your poster child for anger management there and the real owner of the recipe would still be in contention. So I propose another solution."
"What's that?" Slugworth asked, interested despite himself.
"A contest – Ms. Carmichael and Mr. Brahm in the Food Network Kitchen stadium as neutral ground. Whoever can best adapt and use the recipe gets claim over it." Wonka stated flatly, staring unnervingly at Slugworth. "I figured that would appeal to your sense of fair play"
Both Wonka and Slugworth knew just what exactly he'd meant by 'fair play'.
Everyone's head whipped around to stare at the unruffled Chocolatier. Veronica's breath caught in her chest – Willy was pushing up the timeline of her plan. This was a huge risk!
"Who judges? No one you'd select since I know you'd stack the deck, but my own choices would be suspect on the same basis," Slugworth said slowly.
"The same judges from last year's competition and the same scoring. The costs could be divided equally, as worked out by my lawyer Mr. Tupik-Ra and yours, Mr…whatever your name is." Wonka looked over at Raoul Slinkard and sniffed derisively at the man's bad suit.
Slugworth studied Wonka carefully, looking for signs of weakness or uncertainty, "That's crazy – you'd never surrender if Brahm won."
For the first time, Tupik-Ra cleared his throat.
"If Victor Brahm won, we'd cease and desist
Turn over the recipe and new product list
Process a quit claim and walk away
Within 24-hours or the next business day.
If Ms. Carmichel wins, then we ask you to freeze
Making your dishes and table wear, please."
The lawyer had a deep voice and confusion reigned through the conference room after he finished speaking.
"Why are you rhyming?" asked Slinkard in confusion.
The dark lawyer pinned the man with a glare, speaking slowly through his gritted teeth
"None of your business,
None of your care,
Keep your nose to yourself
You horse derrière."
The Slugworth lawyer puffed up at the insult and pointed a finger at the man, "I bet you're not a real lawyer. What are you trying to pull here with this rubbish?"
Tupik-Ra stiffened and leaned toward Slinkard, glaring with hot black eyes.
"Class '87 from Oxford I passed
Summa Cum Laude with honors so vast
More so than you, you'll have to admit
Now knock it off you miserable sh..."
"Whoa! No need to get nasty here," Wonka admonished, holding his hands up. "Can't we all just get along?"
Slugworth tented his fingers, staring up at the ceiling. He was well aware that the greatest strength of his company did not lie in the creation of new candies, but the exploitation of the market and modification of the ones that were already there.
Victor was already suspect due to his legal problems, so there was sufficient evidence to the woman's claims. Wonka was right in the fact that he didn't want to fund a long drawn out legal battle over a product that he knew he had no chance at getting. Only one thing kept him from leaping at the chance.
"Victor, this is really your battle. Think you can pull it off?" Slugworth asked the man slouched at the table casually.
"Pay me a bonus and I might think about it. My time isn't cheap you know," Victor hissed.
"You are though. Selling out students and employees alike," Veronica couldn't help but leap in.
Victor glared up at her, "You should know – you sell your ass to whoever is buying."
Instead of taking insult, she approached him, watching him with a predatory eye.
Veronica glared down at where Victor slumped, "So what do you say? Are you man enough to stand up for what you supposedly invented? Or will you run and hide again, doing your dirty work through the press and back room thugs."
"I don't need to prove anything to you," Victor snarled weakly, holding his sore stomach.
Veronica closed in for the kill. She leaned down and rested her weight on the arms of his chair, leaning in close and violating his personal space.
"What's the matter? Afraid of a little woman like me showing you up in your beloved spotlight?" she hissed. "It might not be today, or tomorrow, but if you back out of this now – you know the clock is ticking until the day you get found out. You're going to slip and then everyone is going to see the scared little low-class boy you really are. They're going to see the bluster for what it is – a no-talent hack clawing his way to the big time. Then they'll forget you. Forgotten like last week's rubbish at the curb."
He was captivated, her eyes glimmered like jewels and he watched the movement of her slick pink lips as they pronounced his fate.
"I'm not afraid of you." He whispered, determined not to let her see how close she'd struck to home.
"And I'm no longer afraid of you. So the question remains, will you or won't you? Sooner or later? The choice is yours." She smiled brightly, with a feral gleam deep in her eyes.
"You're on bitch," he snarled, pushing to stand up. She smoothly leaned back and resumed her place at Wonka's side.
"I'll take your challenge. Just tell me when and where and I'll smoke your pretty little ass."
Veronica's eyes never left his, "Excellent."
Wonka clapped his hands together, the wide crazy smile never moving, "Fabulous! We'll be in touch with the details.
Veronica reluctantly turned away from her staring contest with Victor allowed Wonka to help her step back into the hovering Wonkavator followed by Tupik-Ra. The carpet squished and crunched under their feet as they hopped back inside.
"Oh, and Wonka?' Slugworth asked casually, "Do be a dear boy and pay the bill for the window promptly – I'd hate for word of your strong arm tactics reaching the media."
Willy touched the brim of his hat nodding, "Slugworth"
He slammed the transparent door shut and hit a button, firing the boosters to rocket the Wonkavator clear of the skyscraper and sending a burst of hot air swirling through the conference room. Dust and papers whipped through the room and people scurried back, covering their eyes, clothes flapping in the wind.
When the blast settled down, papers were scattered across the room, some soaking on the wet carpet and shattered glass. There was a knock on the door and building security popped their head in, "Sir? Are you all alright? We got reports of a broken window due to a rocket attack?"
Slugworth waved them away, "Just a minor accident. Call the repairs in please and let me know what the costs are so I can relay them to the responsible party."
The security guards glanced around with dubious expressions but said nothing and closed the door.
"Victor. I hope for your sake, you're up to the task," he rumbled, pinning the man with an icy glare.
Victor brought himself up haughtily, "Not a problem. I'll hire the most skilled workers to assist me. Veronica won't know what hit her."
Nodding, Slugworth gazed at the wreckage around his conference room. It had been the most productive marketing session in the company's history.
"Barring anything else, I call this meeting dismissed."