A/N: Glad you guys have liked it so far! I'm really enjoying writing this story! By the way, I'm just saying that the factory was in England. I know that the 2005 movie wasn't in one specific place; but I had to give it a location, and all of the characters except for the other four children had English accents.

Disclaimer: Me no own.

Augustus ignored the letter his mother had offered to him and kept shoveling eggs and bacon into his mouth.

Mrs. Gloop frowned, and snatched the letter from the table.

She inspected the neat handwriting again and tore it open with a nearby letter-opener.

She took the letter from inside, and held it close to her eyes as she didn't have her reading glasses on.

Her little eyes widened as she read the contents of the paper, and as she reached the end of the letter she said at the top of her voice, "Augustus, pack your things! We're going back to England!"

The porker looked up from his breakfast, and tilted his head in a comic expression of confusion.

His mother shook her head, and said, "Come on Augustus, you've been invited back to the factory!"

Augustus's beady eyes widened in pure amazement, and he jumped from his position at the dinner table to his room.

He began shoving various articles of clothing into his suitcase, as did his mother.

Mr. Salt eyed the letter, which had been sitting on his desk for about half an hour, then picked it up to open it.

He slit the top open neatly with one clean swipe of his letter-opener, and pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

His dull eyes scanned the contents of the letter, and he nodded after examining the entire paper.

He called for Meredith, the head maid, to bring his daughter. The poor woman swallowed loudly, stuttered a soft 'yes sir', then scurried off.

A few minutes later, Meredith returned with a nasty black eye and Veruca herself.

Mr. Salt nodded in the poor maid's direction, dismissing her, then addressed his daughter.

"Veruca, you have recieved an invitation to return to Wonka's factory for the weekend. Would you like to go?"

Veruca scowled, then said, "Yes. I would like to give Charlie a piece of my mind."

Mr. Salt smiled a dry smile, then said, "We'll fly down tomorrow."

Veruca frowned, and said, "I don't like flying on the airliners, daddy."

Mr. Salt rolled his eyes, and said, "Veruca, shut it."

Violet closed the door to her room and pulled her letter from her pocket.

She made sure her mother wasn't around, then ripped the top of the envelope off and pulled the letter out.

She read the contents of the letter carefully, her small grin widening slowly into a full smile once she reached the end.

But reality hit her over the head; "How am I going to get there?" she thought glumly.

She poured over the options, and finally concluded that since she was traveling with her Aunt Mable to England tomorrow, she would convince the energetic woman to take her to the factory.

Violet began packing her small blue suitcase, stuffing each blue tracksuit in its place with a grimace on her face. (While blue had been her favorite color before the tour, she couldn't stand it now because of her skin color being the dreaded primary color.)

She heard a rough knock at the door, and answered quickly, "Yes mom?"

Mrs. Beauregard said through the door, "Your aunt is picking you up in fifteen minutes! Have all of your stuff ready!"

Violet rolled her eyes, but answered obediently, "Alright mom!"

Mr. Teevee looked at the letter that had been sitting on the kitchen counter for quite some time now, and decided to open it since his son was too "engaged".

He peeled the top of the envelope open carefully, then slipped the letter out into his hand.

He squinted at the rushed type, then his eyes opened wide.

He stuttered over to the next room, "M-Mike! You have a letter!"

When his son didn't answer him, he yelled a little louder, "Mike!"

He heard a muttered curse (that he was sure he wasn't supposed to hear) and the deafening noise quieted to a dull roar.

Mike stomped inside the kitchen, ducking underneath the door-frame, then said shortly, "What?"

Mr. Teevee stretched his neck back to look his son in the eye, then said, "You've gotten an invitation to go back to Wonka's factory."

Mike grimaced and said, "Why would I want to go back there? That stupid Wonka guy was the one that did this to me."

Mr. Teevee frowned, and said, "It would be rude not to go."

Before Mike could protest, his father said finally, "You're going. Pack some clothes."

Mike started to whine, but his father frowned again, and said, "I don't want to hear it," and walked out of the room.

Mr. Wonka leaned back in his favorite armchair, savoring the short moment of blessed silence. All this week Charlie had been more than hyper, jabbering on about how he was finally getting some company.

Willy rubbed his temples in an attempt to sooth the rising headache, but to no avail.

Doris rapped lightly on the door, and Willy answered in a sarcastically singsong voice, "Come in."

His assistant walked in (thankfully) silent, a small clipboard under her arm.

She stood in front of him, and signed to him, "What is the matter?"

Willy looked up at the ceiling in disbelief, and said, "I reward Charlie for being better than all those little imbeciles, and the first thing he wants to do is invite them back! I can't believe this!"

Doris gave him a stern look, and signed, "Charlie is a ten-year-old boy. He needs more company than his parents and a twenty-five-year-old man."

Willy smirked, and said, "He's got thousands of Oompa-Loompas."

Doris frowned, and signed, "He does not know sign language."

Willy opened his mouth to retort, but instead said in defeat, "Good point."

Doris continued, "It is in his human nature to feel loneliness. He wants to have people his own age to talk to, even if it is just for a day."

Willy rolled his eyes, and said, "I'm a human, aparently, and I'm never lonely. Why is he so needy?"

Doris smirked, and signed, "You also ran away because your father would not let you be a chocolatier."

Willy glared at her childishly, and said, "Again, good point."

A/N: Thank you for the support!