A/N: Response Time: To mattTheWriter072, thank you, and you shall simply have to wait and see. To Linkwonka88, yeah, I'd say that's a pretty apt way of describing this story. And I'm a dude, by the way. This chapter was written by me, and I hope you all enjoy!

After two days of no ticket, another one was suddenly discovered. This time in England. When Wonka heard that, he became very nervous thinking that Veruca's child could have possibly found the second golden ticket. "Alright, the Gloop kid was a big enough coincidence. There's like a one in a million chance that the kid of another original golden ticket finder found another golden ticket. There's a lot of people in England, right?"

Wonka tuned into the news to find out more details about this second golden ticket finder. The interview was being held in a fancy, expansive mansion. "Well, the Salts can't be the only rich people in England," Wonka mumbled to himself as he continued watching.

"Here he is, the second golden ticket finder, ten-year-old Maximillian Rose!" the reporter said.

"Oh, thank heavens!" Wonka cried. "He's not a Salt!"

Holding the golden ticket proudly was a young boy who had neatly-combed brown hair, had brown eyes, and wore a periwinkle robe. "Max, how did you find your golden ticket?" the reporter asked.

"Well, I didn't do anything. My mummy did all the work for me," the boy said.

"Then let's go talk to your mummy!" The camera panned to the left to reveal a woman with curly, dark brown hair and blue eyes sitting in a velvet chair. She was wearing a white dress and was smoking a cigarette in a cigarette holder. "Here she is, Max's mum and the owner of the Rose Perfume Company, Veruca Rose!"

"N-no, it can't be! It's gotta be another Veruca!" Wonka cried despairingly.

"How many other Verucas have you heard of?" an Oompa-Loompa beside him asked. Wonka just groaned in response.

"Hello, yes, this is Veruca Rose, formerly Veruca Salt. Once I married my lovely husband, Robert Rose, I decided I would change my father's business that I inherited from selling nuts to selling perfume. Goes a lot better with my last name, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, it does. So how did you find your son's ticket?" the reporter asked.

"Well, my darling, little angel told me, 'Please mummy, I must have a golden ticket! Just like you did!' Of course I understood how he felt since I felt the same way when I was around his age, so I made it my mission! I bought hundreds of thousands of Wonka Bars and started tearing off all the wrappers myself, looking for that ticket. Every day that went by that I didn't find the ticket, he would yell more and more, 'Mummy, you're not looking fast enough! You'll never find it at this rate! How come I never get what I want?' I felt so sorry for him that I ended up not going to sleep until I found that ticket. I stayed up forty-eight hours without sleep, but I finally found it!"

"And what did you think when she finally found it for you, Max?" the reporter asked.

"By the time she already found it, I didn't really want it anymore. But I suppose I'll still go anyways since I already have the ticket."

That comment made Wonka's blood boil. "What a horrible brat! He's even worse than his mother was! I can't believe I'm going to have to host him as my guest, let alone have him be a contender for the position as my heir! No, I won't let that happen."

Wonka dashed to his Music Conservatory to once again write a song for the horrible brat that had just won a golden ticket.

"Please, I don't want this to be a repeat of last time," an Oompa-Loompa in the room said.

"I know, I don't either, but I can't possibly let a child like that run my factory; it'll be horrible!"

"Just please don't make a habit out of this," the Oompa-Loompa responded.

"I'll do what I have to do," Wonka said under his breath.