A/N: Okay, short chapter...but major plot point ahead! I'm a little ahead of writing this story, it's just a matter of when I can sit down and type out what I've written on paper. (Yeah I know, writing fan fiction on paper...foreign concept. But I've got to do something during my lunch break and I don't have a laptop)

Meanwhile, doesn't ANYONE with drawing capabilities want to submit fan art for my contest? At this point I'd take stick figures. Please? With Wonka, Captain Jack, Erik and Sportacus Ten on top? (pouts then says 'Wait a minute...that didn't sound right')

peace, love and lipgloss,

Mlle.Fox

Mr. Willy Wonka led me through the halls of the factory rapidly.

"Kitchen, Fudge Room, Licorice, Taffy Maker...Get it? Got it? Good! Moving on!" he said casting his hands in random directions. I tried to look through each door, but I was also trying to catch up with Mr. Wonka. At least I was getting my cardio in.

"Uh...Mr. Wonka...Would you tell me about your parents?" I asked. Just then, I hit a wall. Not figuratively in the fact I ran out of breath and steam to keep walking, but literally into a wall. I looked up realizing it wasn't a wall but a Wonka. Mr. Wonka in fact. I edged around to his blank expression staring out into space. Good night...was he having a stroke? Do I call 911? Wait...this was England. They don't have 911 do they? As I was trying to figure all of this out, Willy was reliving memories.

His Mama was the prettiest of all mamas. That was the conclusion he made as he watched her brush her long auburn locks. She was getting ready to go to work for the day at Mr. Kelly's drugstore.

"Mama? Can you bring me back a piece of chocolate?" the three year old asked sweetly.

"Willy...you know how your Father feels. He wants to wait until your old enough to handle it." she replied.

"I am old enough I promise!" Willy pleaded.

"I know Sweets...but your father is a dentist...And well...the only way he knows how to take care of people is by taking care of their teeth. He does love you...never forget that. But...he just knows no other way to show it then your teeth. And he strongly feels that little boys don't know how to restrain themselves with just one piece. And knowing you, I feel in this case...he's right." Mrs. Wonka said wisely.

"Why Mama?" he asked with a pout. She smiled gently in that way only mother's could.

"Because you Sweets...are a very scientific, inquisitive, and stubborn person...Just like me! When we get fixed on an idea, we don't let it go. For all I know...your first piece of chocolate might make you want to start your own candy shop!" she said with a wonderful, melodious laugh.

"Please Mama? Papa lets you have chocolate...they all smell so good!" Willy pleaded. Mrs. Wonka sighed and relented,

"Alright...how can I deny those gorgeous eyes of yours? After I get off work...I'll bring home one piece of chocolate for you. Understood?" she said as her son nodded gratefully and jumped into her lap, throwing his arms around her neck and showering her face with kisses. She never came home that night.

As the memory of Willy's mother faded with her laughter, Willy heard me saying,

"Testing one, two, three...testing! Is this thing on? Hellooo?"

When I tapped on his forehead he jumped back and then quickly recovered his collected composure,

"I'm sorry...I just had another one of my flashbacks."

"Flashbacks?" I asked confused.

"You know...Memories...reflections...that junk?" Willy explained.

"So...what was the memory about?" I asked innocently. Mr. Wonka considered telling me the truth for almost a full minute, when he chose to say instead,

"Oh! I need to show you the Chocolate Room. Step lively!" I sighed in frustration but reluctantly followed behind him.

The Chocolate Room laid before us in all its glory. And it was either the air conditioner or Wonka had even managed to create an artificial breeze. Wonka began pointing out various creations like his lollipop trees, candy gourds filled with gooey filling, and one of the chocolate squirrels who chattered away at Wonka when he broke off a piece of his tail.

"Here..." he said offering the piece of chocolate, "Have a taste!"

"Um...no thank you. So Mr. Wonka, what can you tell me about your waterfall?" I said. It was all I could think of.

"Yeah yeah yeah...only chocolate waterfall in the world...light and frothy...mixes it...bank...Try my squirrel!" Wonka said pushing the chocolate under my nose.

"I'd rather not Mr. Wonka..." I told him pushing his hand away when in truth I really rather would.

"Oh come now! Just a little bite." he urged.

"I can't."

"Why not?" he asked, that big plastic grin creeping me out again. Do I tell him the truth? Could a guy cooped up in a chocolate factory all day and not gain an ounce really have a grasp on my quest to lose weight? More than likely not. I did the only thing I could think of. Lied through my teeth.

"I don't like chocolate."

He stared blankly at me for a moment. I though he might be having one of those flashback thingys again, when he said through his clenched and forced smile,

"What?"

"I'm sorry...I like other kind of candy...just...not chocolate." I said. Good Grannie I did it again! I guess a good lie is like having kids. After the second time it gets easier...or so my father has reminded my brother his whole life.

"I see..." he said though his smile again. Then he slowly spun on his heel and began to quickly and tensely walk away.

"Mr. Wonka?" I asked beginning to follow him. He only broke off into a run towards a secret door on the other side of a cherry tart tree. He slammed the door in my face. Yup. Definitely a bad idea to lie about chocolate.