Em clicked off the radio dejectedly, her lunch break nearing its end.

It was all over the news, the last ticket had been found. She'd hoped Charlie wouldn't have to find out from anyone else, she wanted them to talk about it together, but he must have heard the announcement at school by now - there was no escaping it.

"Em, are you just about finished?" called the Candy Shop owner from the front of the store.

"Yeah, coming Bill," she called back, dusting off her apron and tightening her long brown ponytail.

"Bring a box of Scrumdidly's with you," he ordered, the sound of the shop bell ringing in the distance.

She grimaced and grabbed the old stepladder, searching for the correct box. She'd be happy if she never had to look at another Wonka product again, they'd brought too much disappointment with them lately.

The competition had been Charlie's chance; his one, miniscule chance to meet his hero, his idol: the elusive Mr. Wonka. Even Em had let herself be drawn into the excitement, imagining a handsome young man with a cane made of candy, a hat made of chocolate. She felt like a fool for being drawn into the illusion. A tiny part of her had thought that maybe, just maybe, they deserved a bit of luck for once. Foolish thoughts a twenty five year old should not be entertaining, she thought to herself, and a chocolate hat would be ridiculously impractical.

Her mind wandered even further, this time to her childhood. She and Charlie had played for hours when they were younger, always the same game; Charlie as the mysterious chocolatier, Em as his knowledgeable young apprentice (despite being fourteen years older than him). The age gap had never meant anything to them, they were the best of friends. To this day they told each other everything.

Em knew how much the competition had meant to Charlie – to the both of them – and now, thanks to Alberto what's-his-face the snotty, selfish millionaire, a little boy's dreams had been snatched away.

"Em?" Bill's voice cut through her thoughts like a fevered finger through a chocolate wrapper. She was holding the Wonka box in a vice-like grip, her knuckles bright white.

"Coming," she called, loosening her grip and stepping down carefully from the rickety ladder, making her way silently to the shop front.

"Hey, hey, hey take it easy." Bill was chastising a young customer as Em closed the door to the storage room. "You'll get a stomach ache if you swallow it like that."

Em placed the box down on the counter, shaking out the tension in her hands. She glanced over at the child and did a double take.

"Charlie?" She gawked as her brother shovelled down an unholy amount of chocolate.

"Oh, hey Em," he garbled, his teeth fusing together, "want some?"

"No thanks," she replied, crinkling her nose. "Bill's right, slow down or you'll be sick." She started unboxing the Wonka bars and began stacking them neatly on the empty shelf. "What are you doing out of school, anyway?" she asked over her shoulder.

"They let us go home early, because of the competition…" Charlie's voice trailed off and he glanced down at his chocolate bar, the sweet treat seemingly loosing its charm.

"Oh." Em stopped stacking and turned to her brother. "So you heard? Oh, Charlie I'm so sorry, don't let it get you down. There was no way –"

"Em, it's fine!" smiled Charlie, not really fooling either of them. "I'm fine, it was just a bit of fun. We were never actually going to find one, so it's no big deal."

"Mmhmm?" murmured Em, wishing she could share in her brother's carefree attitude, even if he was only faking. "We'll go watch at the factory, yeah? When the gates are opened and the winners go inside? We might catch a glimpse of old Wonka yet!"

"Yeah, sure," grinned Charlie, a genuine smile lighting up his youthful face. He looked thoughtful for a moment before reaching into his pocket and producing a small silver coin. "D'you think I should buy one more, for Grandpa Joe?"

"I'm sure he would love that," nodded Em, forever proud of her brother's generosity. "Just a regular Wonka bar this time?"

"Sure." Charlie handed over the money as Em handed him the chocolate, her brother placing it safely in his school satchel.

Em looked up as the shop door swung open and a cacophony of excited voices drifted in.

"Extra, extra! Read all about it! - What's going on? - Hear about the scandal?! - Which one was it? - Let me see! - Can you believe it?!"

Charlie and Em exchanged confused glances, the crowd growing steadily bigger outside.

"Excuse me?" ventured Em to the new customer who was digging through her handbag, apparently desperate to find something. "What's going on out there?"

"That millionaire from Paraguay," the woman spat out breathlessly, "had the cheek to forge a ticket! It was a fake! The nerve of some people!"

Em felt the whole world stop as all the breath left her body. She sensed Charlie had done the same.

"I'll have all your Wonka bars." The woman slammed a pile of notes onto the counter, her eyes wild, "all of them!"

"Yes Madam!" exclaimed Bill, jumping into action.

As the shop owner began emptying his shelves, Em turned to her little brother, the Wonka bar now clutched tightly in his hands.

"Together?" he asked, holding the bar out to her.

"Together," she agreed and in one swift movement they ripped of the brightly coloured wrapping, exposing something that made the frantic woman screech hysterically.

"You've got it! The last Golden Ticket!"

Em looked at her brother in awe, shocked to her core at what she was looking at. A Golden Ticket, a real life Golden Ticket! Identical grins spread slowly across their faces as customers began to stream into the shop, waving their money around like demented stock-brokers. The minute they spotted the siblings, it was chaos.

"Is that - it is! - It really is gold! - Let me see it! - Show it to me! - Let me touch –"

"Em!" bellowed Bill over the crowd. "Take your brother and run, run straight home and don't stop till you get there, you hear me? Don't worry about your shift, just get out of the shop, now!"

They pushed their way though the ever growing crowd, people grabbing at Em's clothes as she dodged her way through the shop and out the door, tugging Charlie closely behind her. She heard Bill cry, "leave those kids alone!" and they were off, sprinting down the high street, their feet moving faster than they'd ever moved in their life.

They turned a corner into the alley and skidded to a stop as a sinister looking bespectacled man loomed out of the darkness, his voice cold and calculating.

"I congratulate you, little boy. Well done. You found the fifth Golden Ticket."

Em placed her hands protectively around Charlie as the man continued, her breathing heavy from the sprint.

"May I introduce myself. Arthur Slugworth, President of Slugworth Chocolates, Incorporated." He held out a long, pale hand, expecting one of them to shake it. The siblings stood their ground. They'd heard stories about Slugworth and he was not a man they wanted anything to do with. He ignored their stand of defiance and carried on, lowering his hand pointedly.

"Now, listen carefully because I'm going to make you very rich indeed." Em felt Charlie stiffen beneath her hands and tried very hard herself to keep her composure. "Mr. Wonka is at this very moment working on a fantastic invention: the Everlasting Gobstopper."

Em was listening intently, despite her strong dislike towards the man.

"If he succeeds, he'll ruin me. So all I want you to do is to get hold of just one Everlasting Gobstopper and bring it to me so that I can find the secret formula."

He reached into his coat pocket and Em tensed instinctively, ready to fight. Instead of a weapon he produced a rather large stack of bank notes.

"Your reward will be ten thousand of these." He flipped through the wad of money. "Think it over, will you? A new house for your family, and good food and comfort for the rest of their lives."

Em was beginning to get a very bad feeling about the man and she could feel Charlie shifting uncomfortably. They made to leave but Slugworth held out his hand, stopping them.

"And don't forget the name: Everlasting Gobstopper."

Em glared at the man and pushed her way past him, beckoning Charlie to follow.

"You still got your ticket?" she whispered as they rounded the corner.

"Yeah," he nodded, clutching it tightly in his fist. "Our ticket."

She smiled appreciatively as they hurried home, her heart racing as the sinister man's face burned in her mind.

"Look, everyone, look we got it! The last ticket!" they chorused as they barrelled through the front door of the ramshackle house, startling the four older occupants awake.

"You're pulling our legs," chastised Grandpa Joe, sitting bolt upright.

"Who's lost a leg?" wailed Grandma Josephine, blinking the sleep from her aged eyes.

"Shh," hissed Grandpa Joe, waving his hands to quieten them. "There aren't anymore tickets left!"

"No Grandpa!" grinned Em, rushing over to her beloved grandfather. "The last one was a fake: it said so in the papers!"

"I found some money and I bought a Wonka bar and the ticket was in it! Em gave me the winning chocolate bar!" squeaked Charlie to his father, clambering onto the bed and jumping for joy as the elderly occupants were bounced up and down.

"Charlie!" exclaimed their mother. "Emily get him down from there!" She placed a tired hand over her heart. "You're sure?"

"Look at it, mum, see for yourself!" Charlie bounded off the bed and handed the ticket to his mother, dancing for joy as Em took a seat next to her grandmother.

"Greetings to you, the lucky finder of this Golden Ticket, from Mr. Willy Wonka." Mrs Bucket read aloud. A deep silence settled over the room as she continued, Charlie perching on his sister's lap.

"Present this ticket at the factory gates at ten o'clock in the morning of the first day of October, and do not be late. You may bring with you one member of your own family but no one else. In your wildest dreams you could not imagine the marvelous surprises that await you!" She looked up, beaming. "I don't believe it, you've done it!"

Em jumped up, gripping Charlie around the waist and spinning them both in circles until they were in danger of throwing up.

"Mum? Dad? Can we go?!" pleaded Em, breathless and bright eyed as she lowered Charlie to the floor. He began to wander in dizzying zigzags as he regained his balance.

"Of course!" chuckled Mr. Bucket. "You both want to go? Even you, Emily?"

"Yes!" they yelled in unison, running circles around one another.

Em felt like she was 15 again, giddy with joy and beyond excited for the adventure to come. They'd done it! They were going into the world famous chocolate factory!

"Stop!" yelled Mrs Bucket. "It says the first of October: that's tomorrow!"

Em could have cried. Tomorrow! They were going tomorrow!"

"Jumping crocodiles, you two!" barked Grandpa Joe. "You've got a lot to do! Comb your hair, wash your face, polish your shoes and brush your –"

"I'll make sure we're ready, Grandpa, don't you worry," grinned Em, giving him the biggest kiss. "C'mon Charlie!"

The two of them rushed into their room, slamming the door behind them. The bemused family sat in silence for a few moments, broken only by a loud, muffled chorus of "we're meeting Mr. Wonka tomorrow!"

Em couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy, all thoughts of Slugworth had vanished, leaving room for only one man: Mr. Wonka!