(Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. At all. So there. ))
It's a miracle! A Miracle! Everyone dance, shout, or something. I can't believe I updated just as much as you can't. You have no idea how bad I feel that I haven't updated. To tell you the truth, I have trouble receiving any criticism, and it makes me worry. I have gotten over that slowly, and I am sure that I can handle constructive reviews better. So, no worries to the people who gave me suggestions.
I will update more again. I have to finish this. I want to finish this. My lack of updated is due to the worry that I will fail to end it properly.
Anyway, here's some good news. I re-read my fan fiction at parts and realized that I need to re-write, or at least, revamp the first few chapters. So, at some point, I still have to decide whether it's a separate story or not, I will post re-written chapters of Being a Big Brother. The story won't be different, it will just be better-worded, better spelt, better grammar, and have better tie-ins with the rest of the story. Also, I will add in a couple of chapters that will be exploring the factory, or more gaps where they are needed.
Last, and not least, I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes that are in this fic. I have checked this over, being that I wrote this ages ago and never updated, and I am sure that it is alright.
To my Beta-Reader – I didn't send this to you because I fear it has been too long. If you would like to pick up on this again, please e-mail or review. Thank you.
Warning, this Fan Fiction may contain Movie Spoilers: If you don't like them watch the movie then come back.
Chapter Twenty Summary – Poor Charlie. He has to deal with two very unusual people's sense of dress. And, what's more, the reporters are out on the prowl.
Chapter 20 - Blue Frills and Reporters
Charlie was shoved in the direction of a room by an anxious Mr. Vete. Willy just looked at the sleeve of a random garment of clothing with a smirk on his face, thoroughly enjoying the situation. Mr. Vete was rambling on in French, pulling clothing off racks and shoving them into Charlie's arms, before turning him around and pushing him into a change room.
Wonka laughed at Charlie's bewildered expression just before the door was shut. Mr. Vete grinned.
"I do hope that we find something proper for the boy," Mr. Vete said in French as he approached Wonka. "Especially that he is going to be on television. I am sure that what I found will be suitable for him."
Willy backed away from the garment that he was looking at to look at Mr. Vete better. "I'm sure that it will be. If it is appropriate, and something that Charlie likes. That -is- the most important part, yes?"
"But of course." Mr. Vete paused. "Do you - Do you want anything for yourself? We have a wide range of clothes that could fit your taste." Mr. Vete made a gesture toward the racks of coats that would fit his taste. Attractive frock coats of moderate and extreme hues, several in shades that he did not own.
It was all very tempting, but Wonka shook his head. He did not come here for himself. "No. I'm fine. I'm here for Charlie and nobody else. Just make sure that you make the proper modifications that I ordered."
Mr. Vete nodded. "Of course. I will make the proper modifications, and will be sure that they will fit your taste."
"It's Charlie's taste we are satisfying here." Wonka shook his head when Mr. Vete turned away. The man could be very up-front, and seemed to be more interested in making his adult costumers more comfortable than his younger ones. Or maybe, it was because he was Willy Wonka. A saddening truth that he would have to come to terms with one day, no matter how much he did not want it.
Willy turned to face the change room; Charlie had not left yet. "You okay in there Charlie? You've been in there for a long time."
A moment's pause and then a muffled response, "I'm fine, Mr. Wonka. I'm just doing up the buttons."
Wonka smirked. "I'm sure it doesn't take that long to put on a suit my dear child."
Charlie emerged, he seemed, how could Wonka put it, uncomfortable and unsure. Charlie tugged at the light green collar. He was decked up in a fine deep, almost black, green coat, and black dress pants, the shirt he wore underneath was a light green, and the tie was just plain white. Nevertheless, the whole thing worked together nicely. Especially when the modifications were added, then it would be perfect.
"I think you look charming. Fits you nicely. Did you try the other colours?"
Charlie looked up from tugging on the colour. Unsure if it really did look as good on him as Wonka said. "Yes, I tried the other colours, Mr. Wonka. I like this one the best."
When shoved into the change room, Mr. Vete had shoved in a blue, red, purple, and yellow version of the same getup. Charlie thought that the yellow looked dreadful, he did not even try it, and had to think a moment or two on the others. Yet green was, by far, his favourite.
He was not too sure if he liked it at all; it felt strange. He never had anything so formal. The most formal things that he owned were the new sets of sweaters and pants that Wonka bought him for a belated birthday present, and the most formal thing he owned before those were what he wore to the tour of the factory. Charlie was not too sure with what he was wearing now. He just felt silly.
Wonka looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Is something the matter Charlie? You don't look happy."
Charlie smiled back. "Oh, I like it a lot Mr. Wonka. It's just I'm not used to it, that's all. I've never worn anything as formal as this."
"Well," Willy began as he approached Charlie, "if it is any consolation at all, I think it looks very becoming on you and it is perfect for television. In fact, you don't look silly at all! More like a chocolatier's heir than anything."
"That's good."
Willy then got a most particular grin smeared on his face. "Now. On to business, or rather, revenge. Since we had already done our business, the suit, my dear boy, so, of course, we should get on to revenge."
Charlie sighed. "I thought this was the revenge."
"Of course not. Revenge is much more nasty than suits. Don't you think? I think it goes along the lines of vibrant hues and clothes that you wouldn't touch under any circumstances, don't you agree? Why, I think it is only fair is it not?"
Charlie laughed. "I suppose it's fair, since I did make you go without a hat or sunglasses. Just don't dress me up like a girl."
Wonka suddenly looked disappointed. "Darnit," was all he said as he turned to speak to Mr. Vete, leaving Charlie with a peculiar expression. Of course, he was never intending to dress the poor boy up as a young woman, but Charlie's face was worth the comment.
"Mr. Vete, please bring me some of your more -bright- clothing, if you please?"
Mr. Vete grinned horribly. Charlie gulped, whatever Wonka said, he might not enjoy it too much.
"Oh, but of course."
------
Willy laughed, "You should have seen your face when Mr. Vete put that more-than-a-little florescent yellow suit on you. You looked like a glowing banana!"
Charlie laughed in return, it had been humorous; he responded through tight laughs, "I was in front of a mirror, Mr. Wonka. Of course I saw myself. I thought I looked more like a radioactive lemon than anything."
Wonka placed his hand, with a grin, on his chin in a thinking matter. "True. True. Or like one of my glowing gum-balls. Which reminds me that I have to send an order…"
"It wasn't as bad as that strange black shirt with a horrible pink vest overtop. All of those blue ruffles, and lace on that shirt and vest! I was surprised there was any fabric on it at all! I mean, who would buy that?"
"People with a strange sense of humour, or taste for clothing." Willy paused. "But the hat was nice. A nice top-hat. Much like mine."
"I suppose so."
Wonka and Charlie had spent the majority of a couple of hours inside the shop trying on different clothing. Surprisingly enough, Charlie had enjoyed himself as much as Willy had, and did not mind being shoved into strange and obscure clothing as much as he thought he would.
Wonka, on the other hand, was having trouble keeping his surprise from Charlie, and he could not help to smile whenever he thought of it. So, as a resort, he covered his face, often hiding his smile, or suppressing a laugh. Willy forced himself to focus on the clothing and now what he was going to do.
Much of the clothing had been very strange. However, Charlie had actually liked some things he tried on. Well, he liked some styles well enough, but he could have gone with duller or less clashing colour combinations. So, as a present to Charlie, Wonka had ordered a couple of them in more suited colours for him.
Some things, however, had been dreadful, and ended up with both Wonka and himself in fistfuls laugher on the floor once Charlie had come out of the change room. Like one suit that made Charlie look like a chicken-ostrich more than anything, and a strange horrid pink thing that looked more like a dress than a shirt.
Yet both Wonka and Charlie could only take so much dressing up and fun with the wardrobes. They left after a couple of hours, and were wandering around the streets of New York, yattering on about the clothing in Mr. Vete's cloth's shop.
"What about that coat covered in feathers? It was actually quite nice."
Willy nodded, remembering the deep-red coat covered with small and very fine feathers. There were even tail-feathers at the back of the coat, which made Charlie look like a very red rooster.
"Yeah. However, after awhile, it would look like you were moulting," Willy 'sprinkled' with his fingers. "But yeah, it was nice."
Charlie grinned and looked forward as they walked. Of course it had all been fun, but now he was wondering what they were going to continue their day with. It was already late in the afternoon, and he was sure that they did not go out to just go to the clothing shop, as much fun that that was. He really wanted to see the city. He had heard all about it: all the shops, the famous places, the tall buildings, and the famous landmarks. Charlie wanted to at least see something other the inside of the cloth's shop and the inside of the Pepper Inn.
"Mr. Wonka," Charlie began, "what are we going to do now? I mean, we can't have gone out to just go to Mr. Vete's cloths shop. Could we go somewhere else? Please?"
Willy looked down at Charlie, a contemplating look on his face. A grin crept over it after a moment or two. "Of course Charlie. We are going to be here for a while yet, and there is probably much to see." Wonka paused, his left hand finger tapping on his chin. "How about, my Wonka shop?"
How could have he forgotten? "Of course! I'd love to!"
"Good." Willy pointed forwards. "It should be over there somewhere, down one of those streets if I remember correctly. We're really close. Just look for a golden 'W', kay?"
Charlie nodded. He remembered seeing the shop when they were walking up to the clothing's shop. Though, it was just out of the corner of his eye and on a corner. Of what he saw, it had large glass 'W's' hanging with a gold wire trim, and the outside was a rich plum red. The window had stacks of multi-coloured Wonka wrappers.
"If I remember right," Willy said, "this shop had most of my flavours of Wonka bars. Which is very unusual, you see, because most large stores only hold about twenty flavours, and small shops only a traditional five."
"Twenty flavours, Mr. Wonka?"
Wonka turned to Charlie. "Don't be silly! Twenty is not near enough! I have made over one hundred different flavours of chocolate bars."
Charlie gaped. One-hundred flavours of Wonka bars. Over one-hundred flavours of Wonka bars. Charlie had never seen more than twenty flavours at one time, more-or-less one-hundred. He realised that he wasn't paying nearly enough attention to some of the most important things that he should have been. Of course, some things had been very distracting, but that was still no excuse for not knowing a simple fact like that.
After a couple more minutes of talking and walking, Wonka pointed in front of him. "Ah ha! Here it is. My Wonka shop."
Passing all of the various and very colourful candies in the shop's window, Wonka and Charlie entered the shop.
The inside was surprising, very clean and ordered, and definitely gold-themed with accents of red. All of the shelves were gold as well, each stacked high with chocolates and candies, almost in the same fashion as books. The shop itself was very large, no wonder it had room enough for most flavours of Wonka bars.
Charlie made a b-line for the shelves against the wall that housed the Wonka bars, while Wonka retreated to the other side of the shop, glancing everything over, seemingly making sure that all was in order.
Charlie looked across the golden-coloured shelf, examining the candies that were sitting upon them. There were so many kinds of candies. On that shelf alone, Charlie examined at least twenty - no - thirty kinds of chocolate bars.
Wonka was just absent-mindedly looking at the shelves, bending over and just glancing at everything with a slight smile.
The owner of the shop was in mild-shock that the Willy Wonka was in his shop. Well, Willy was really in his own shop, but, the caretaker was still surprised that Willy picked this particular shop to visit. In fact, he was so shocked by Wonka being there, that he didn't say or do anything; he just stood there like a fool with his mouth open, all thought processes gone from his head.
Willy glanced briefly over the top of one of the shelves and grinned for a moment, before ducking his head down again to "examine" the food innocently.
Minty-Mint Mix, Whipple-Scrumtious Fudgemallow Delight, Nutty-Crunch Surprise, Sugary-Sweet Stupefaction, Coffee-Whipped Cream, Melty-Caramel Marvel, Bubbly Butterscotch Dream, Yummy-Delicious Chocolate Cream... Charlie just marvelled over the many, many, many flavours of Chocolate that the bars that were splayed on the shelf. He remembered that Wonka had said that this shop had more than twenty different flavours of chocolate bar, all of them different from each other. But... there had to be at least fifty kinds there.
As Charlie glanced over the shelf, Wonka, ever so quietly, walked up behind him and put his head only inches away from Charlie's. With a grin, Willy leaned over so his face was level with Charlie's ear, only an inch away. "What'cha lookin' at?" Willy said suddenly with the innocence of a small child
Charlie jumped half a mile, not really expected to have someone sneak up upon him like that. Which was, of course, the point. He whipped around shocked for a moment, but smiled when he saw who it was.
Willy straightened up and fiddled with the glove on his cast-arm, with something reminiscent of a grin, asking like nothing had happened. "Jumpy fellow, aren't you?" He nearly didn't manage to hold-in the laugh at the back of his throat.
"Oh! I was just looking at all of the chocolate bars, Mr. Wonka. I really didn't know that you had so many flavours, sir." Charlie said, recovering from his embarrassing jump. "I guess I had to see it to believe it."
"Well, of course I do! What had I told you outside this very shop?" Willy said is if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "What did you think? You have been living in the factory for about a month now, how many flavours did you think I had? Didn't you know?"
"Well... I guess I have been spending all of my time figuring out as much as I can about the factory to really remember what exact flavours of chocolate bars you have Mr. Wonka. Sorry."
Wonka made a noise and waved it off, "don't be sorry my dear Charlie! Think nothing of it! I understand that you are too busy learning the way of the chocolatier to be able remember a couple silly flavours of my silly chocolate bars!"
Willy turned to the shelf and bent over again. He began to look down the shelves, pointing out with his finger. Charlie gave Wonka an odd look. A strange suspicion seemed to arise. What was Wonka up to? He couldn't be that happy. It wasn't like Charlie was trying to be pessimistic, but Wonka was acting a little more normal than he was normally, which was rather ironic. Last time Wonka acted so chipper, he was hiding something, and then something bad happened.
A twist of worry suddenly grabbed Charlie's heart. Something wasn't wrong, was there? Did something happen and he didn't know? Was something wrong? Did he do anything to offend Wonka? Willy did seem to become unexpectedly happy after they departed from the plane. Was he just hiding the fact that he was still fuming on the inside, or was it something else? Or was Charlie just worrying too much to be healthy?
"Let me see. It seems that this shop might have what I am looking for..." Wonka's finger stopped a couple shelves down. "Aha! Here it is!"
Charlie was barely paying any attention to what Willy was doing; only worrying thoughts flooded his mind. Could Mr. Wonka possibly be still mad at me? Did I do anything at the shop? He did seem rather quiet about the whole thing, like he was thinking about something.
Willy grabbed a large box from the shelf. It was about the size of a Wonka Bar but, ten times thicker, and over the whole of it all, it was covered blue with "Wonka Bars" over the top of it.
Okay... Maybe he isn't upset with me. Maybe it's nothing. But no, it's been "nothing" before. Charlie shuddered at the memory of the strange flashback Wonka had experienced with him. Did something happen when I was in the change room?
Charlie scanned his thoughts. Willy did seem rather odd after he was trying on his coat. He didn't look at Charlie a lot and he seemed to be covering up his face whenever he looked at Charlie. He also had a pained expression as if he was trying desperately hard to hide something from Charlie. But what? What could he possibly be hiding? Did something else go wrong, and he is just refusing to say? It did seem like he was hiding a smile...
"I'll get this then," Wonka said with a grin, box in hand, walking over to the counter, being none the wiser of Charlie's panicked thoughts, and just left Charlie to stand there with them toiling around in his head.
When Willy approached the front desk, the man behind the counter was stalk-still, just as before, not moving even an inch. Wonka doubted the man moved at all during their visit. His mouth was open like a puffer fish and his jaw worked slightly as if it was to say something, but only a high airy noise seemed wheezed out of his mouth.
Willy just rolled his eyes, placing the box on the counter. It was very annoying to have someone stare at you... but to have someone freeze at your presence... it was just strange, and annoying. He would, of course, have to remedy that. Wonka took out his cane and knocked as loudly as he could with it on the edge of the counter, wearing a strange perturbed look on his face, hoping that it would get the man's attention and wake him from wherever-he-was.
The noise snapped the man out of la-la-land and he begun functioning into working order as if his 'stall' never happened. Looking down on purpose, the man grabbed the box on the counter and rung up the price.
"Five dollars and fifty cents, sir," the caretaker said with his head towards the machine, ripping off the receipt and shoving into the bag along with the box. He was making very careful efforts to make no eye contact or even to look at Wonka. Not that Willy minded the "not look at" part... "Did you find everything that you needed, sir?" he asked, randomly adjusting the screen on his computer.
"Yes. Everything was here." Willy leant up straight, tucked his cane under his cast-arm and rifled through his pocket on the inside of the breast of his jacket and produced a ten-dollar bill.
"Keep the change," he muttered to the man, as he slid it over to him robotically and grabbed the bag. Turning to Charlie and grabbing his arm, he said, "c'mon Charlie."
When the door shut behind them with a ring, Charlie said, "Why did you buy some candy, Mr. Wonka?"
Willy, who had let go of Charlie's arm, and was in the bag, opening the box, said, "because, my dear Charlie, I didn't bring any, so, naturally, if you don't bring any candy, you must buy some."
Charlie was confused. "You didn't bring any?"
"Nope. Know why?" Wonka asked, looking up. "You see, I didn't bring any because I knew my shop was here, and I didn't want to risk it melting, or, getting squished. I might as well buy it, the money just comes back to me anyway." Wonka's nose wrinkled momentarily in disgust, "It's not like I am buying Ficklegrubers, Slugworth, Prodnose, or anything like that."
"Of course not."
"-And," Willy added with a grin while pulling out a bar from the box. "I love Chocolate (but you already know that). This product is my "10 per box chocolate bars." Basically, each box has ten random flavours of chocolate bars. You never know what you are going to get, and you never get the same bar twice. Neat eh?"
Willy turned over the bar, and examined it. "Hmn. Minty Mint Mix, a good one. Here, how about we share?"
"Okay."
Wonka gave the bar over to Charlie, "you better open it. I can't really do it," he made slight movements with his broken arm to prove his point, "make sure you break it lengthways, that way we'll each get seven pieces."
Charlie took the bar from Wonka's hand, unwrapped it carefully, and broke it lengthways as Willy said. He handed Wonka back the most intact pieces of Chocolate and placed the wrapper in his pocket.
"Thanks," Wonka said, before shoving a piece of chocolate into his mouth.
Before eating it, Charlie held it to his nose and sniffed it with curiosity. He had never had a Minty Mint Mix before, and wondered vaguely what it tasted like.
Willy swallowed, and looked at Charlie's examining face with one of confusion. "You're not going to find out what it's gonna taste like by sniffing it my dear boy, that's a different kind of candy of mine. Try biting it. Like this," Wonka then took another healthy bite of Chocolate, chewing it with satisfaction. "See? You can taste much better this way," he added after he swallowed.
Charlie laughed out loud, Wonka gave him a funny look, but grinned afterwards.
After a few minutes, and after Charlie took a few bites, looking downward as they walked towards a bench, his face fell again.
"Is-is something the matter, Charlie?" Wonka asked seriously. Charlie was acting weird. He had been acting weird ever since he jumped up and surprised him. He was sure he didn't scare Charlie that badly. He hoped he didn't traumatize the poor boy, but, then, that would be just silly. Traumatized by jumping in shock? Laughable.
The seriousness in Willy's voice caused Charlie to be somewhat startled, he looked up. "No, sir. Just thinking."
"Oh," Wonka glanced over his shoulder for a moment, "It's just you are not up to your talkative self right now. Seems like something is on your mind."
Charlie just grinned for a moment, swallowing the piece of Chocolate Minty Mint Mix that was in his mouth. "Something's always on my mind Mr. Wonka, or I wouldn't be very interesting."
Willy laughed a genuine laugh. "Oh, and I suppose, using that logic, that you also have something on your mind because hair grows on you're head, and there's a skull somewhere under that mop of yours. Because, of course, your hair and skull are all 'on your mind'."
"I suppose so, Mr. Wonka."
"Hmn." Willy gave Charlie a sideways look, "you're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Absolutely sure?"
"Absolutely sure," Charlie confirmed.
"Absolutely positively sure?"
"Yes."
"Oh good." Wonka looked pleased with himself.
Charlie felt embarrassed. He was worrying so much, that Wonka could pick up on it; and in the process, he worried Willy; which, in turn, worried him. It was a never-ending circle of negativity and worry.
"There you go again."
Oops. Charlie looked up. "Just thinking, Mr. Wonka."
Willy pulled a sarcastic "uh-huh" face, eyebrows raised.
"Look!" A voice shouted from behind them. "There he is!"
Wonka's head whipped around to see a hoard of reporters, camera operators, photographers and even TV Reporters behind them by several yards and approaching quickly, all at a full tilt run. Willy's eyes widened with horror. What were they doing there? He thought that his different clothing would at least keep the paparazzi away. Wonka grabbed Charlie's arm and began to run, dragging Charlie behind him.
"-What? Mr. Wonka, what's going on!?"
"Reporters," his voice much higher and more tenor than usual.
He sharply turned a corner and he vaguely heard the crowd of people calling out where they were going. He dashed down another alleyway, dragging Charlie behind.
After a couple of more turns, and when neither Charlie nor Wonka could run any farther, they both stopped; Wonka let go of Charlie's arm, and they both grasped their knees for a moment, catching their breaths.
"Sorry. Charlie," Willy said between huffs. "I. Hate. Reporters."
Charlie swallowed a couple of times, and waited a minute before responding. He wasn't angry that Wonka had suddenly decided to commandeer his arm and run off with it, he would just like to have a little more forewarning the next time around. He couldn't blame Willy for his sudden and strange reaction, considering what the reporters had been doing and saying lately; but he doubted that what Wonka did would help them at all with their predicament.
"I understand, Mr. Wonka." He peered around the corner of one building. "I think they have gone, either they got bored, or we managed to run fast enough."
Willy straightened as well, absent-mindedly fixing the collar of his coat. "I hope we did. I really don't want a repeat of what happened last time. They can be rather vicious when they don't mean to, and they aren't relentless around children."
Charlie shuddered, remembering when they surrounded him to question him constantly. Only when Wonka decided to change faces and plough through them did they part away from him, and for that, Charlie was thankful. Very thankful. Willy, with the stunt he just pulled, probably kept the same occurrences from happening again.
"There they are!" a thankful and relief-full voice filled the air.
Or not. Wonka paled.
The crowd of people approached both Willy and Charlie, their cameras flashing. A couple of them looked exhausted, red-faced and panting. Wonka didn't turn to run this time. There was really no point into trying to escape now.
Almost as soon as they reached them, they surrounded them, their cameras still going off with bright flashes of light; microphones were shoved into Willy and Charlie's faces, and the reporters dug out their notebooks.
"Mr. Wonka," the questioning began, "what are you doing in the city? Is it true you are going to make a television appearance, or are you here for a visit?"
"I-"
"And are Charlie Bucket's parents here or are you the guardian for Charlie in your visit to New York?"
"He-"
"Why did Charlie Bucket come, and what do you think of the situation concerning your factory and the boy's safety?" a small reporter asked quickly, in a worry that they might not get a word in edgewise.
Wonka began very loudly so that they had no time to interrupt him with more questions that he couldn't possibly answer in time. "Yes I'm going to be on television, and no the boy's parents are not here. I am acting as his guardian as long as they are not with him."
The small reporter piped up again, "could you answer my question please?"
Willy turned to face him. "What was it again?"
"Why did Charlie Bucket come, and what do you think of the situation concerning you factory?" he said, reading off of his note pad.
Wonka paused. A wrong answer could mean disaster. The microphones pressed in closer and the flashes quickened.
"I-" he swallowed. Now, he had to think carefully, and not say anything... stupid. "I am, of course, very distressed of the whole matter." Better not to be too specific, let them figure it out. "And since it concerns the boy as well," he gestured to Charlie off-handed, "he has been asked to come."
The reporters paused, took what Willy said in, and then scribbled down on their notepads viciously. Then, the questions started again.
"What television show will you be appearing on?"
"Will Bucket be there as well?"
"What exactly distresses you with the matter?"
"Why does it concern the boy?"
"What exactly is unsafe about the factory?"
"Why is Charlie Bucket living there? Are his parents there as well?"
"What did you choose to come now, rather than later?"
"Why did you let out the golden tickets?"
"Does this have to do with your competition with the other candy companies?"
The questions went on and on, ranging from the factory, to why they were in New York, to the fact that Willy's arm was still inside of it's cast. He barely had time to answer, let alone think about what he was going to say. His answers came quickly, his mind more focused of ways of escaping or convincing himself that there was not that many people around him. For the most part, it seemed to be working, as long as he stayed focused on one reporter at a time and kept from looking at the cameras that where recording.
Charlie, as Willy was being questions with thousands of questions, was also being put in the spot-light. He too was being bombarded with questions, and he was finding himself, much like before, being pulled away slowly from his companion. Though, he tried to hold his position close to Wonka, and managed to stay at least within ten feet of the famous chocolatier.
"How do you feel with the problems of the factory?" the questions were more slow, still quick, but the permitted a chance to think and to answer.
"I think it's just horrible," Charlie began. He might as well just tell them how he feels. They would be finding out anyway. "I don't understand why all of this trouble has happened over the factory. It isn't unsafe at all. It's just as unsafe as anyone else's home. Only different."
"Just how is it different?"
"It is a factory of course. It's different from a home."
"What do you think about Willy Wonka?"
Charlie smiled. "I think he's wonderful, the nicest man that I have ever met."
The reporter paused and looked at him for a quick moment, then wrote down vigorously down in his notepad. He nodded to Charlie with a smile, tipped his hat then walked away from the throng of reporters; allowing another one to take his place. Charlie watched for a moment until the other cut off his thoughts with questions not to dissimilar to others that he had been asked, all of which he answered to a microphone jammed in his face.
After nearly twenty or so minutes, Wonka was finding that he had finally had enough. He could only stand so much banter from these reporters, and he had given him enough of his personal time and space. They were lucky enough to have gotten any time at all. Willy was lucky that he was getting better at restraining himself from fainting.
Wonka glanced over his shoulder, dismissing a question about his arm. Charlie seemed to be farther back than before, and ever-so-slowly getting farther and farther away from him. He had to be at least fifteen feet away.
Last thing he wanted was a repeat of what happened at the airport. Those reporters were just vicious. "Charlie?" No response, the shouting questions of the reporters were drowning him out.
Wonka turned, completely cutting off another question, and shoved through the gaggle of reporters and laid one had on Charlie's shoulder.
"I think that we must get going," he said to Charlie, though, very loudly, informing them all.
Wonka was feeling a little tipsy, and not because of drink. Charlie looked up at him and Willy felt relief when he nodded in agreement.
Running wasn't going to work. It never worked. So he ploughed through the crowd as he did before, his left hand firmly clasping Charlie's right as he led him out of the crowd. Of course, the reporters shouted after them, questions of why they were going, or some in hope that they would get some final answers before he left, but they did part to make way for them. Wonka ignored the reporters completely and dragged Charlie along until they turned a corner. Surprisingly enough, nobody followed.
"I think," Willy said, as soon as he was positive that they would not be following any longer, "that we should go back to the Hotel, and have a rest."
Charlie couldn't have agreed more.
Authors Thoughts – This was typed a while ago, and my style of writing has changed quite a bit. Much better, in my opinion. But, never the less, I will update! Just, I can't say how quickly yet. (For sure no year-long gaps.)
Wonka-Land Info –
Minty-Mint Mix, Whipple-Scrumtious Fudgemallow Delight, Nutty-Crunch Surprise, Sugary-Sweet Stupefaction, Coffee-Whipped Cream, Melty-Caramel Marvel, Bubbly Butterscotch Dream, Yummy-Delicious Chocolate Cream – Just some made-up flavours mixed in with the Candies from the movie. I wouldn't mind having a Sugary-Sweet Stupefaction.
Over one-hundred flavours – Yup. I think Wonka would manage that. I think also, somewhere in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory book Wonka mentions he has a lot. He will have 250 or so in this story in particular. Maybe I'll name more later.
This Chapter – I HAD posted this chapter a while back. But, I pulled it and re-wrote it entirely. Now, I am re-using elements from the old version in this chapter and the next.
Chapter Twenty-One Preview – What are they going to do to relax a little. Finally, a break from stress to just be themselves. Well, they hope.
About the Reviews – Merci pour les reviews mes amies!
My Beta-Reader – Please E-mail or Review me if you'd like to continue being my beta-reader.
Important Note: Please Review. I want to know if any of you liked it. Plus, I may feel like updating faster if I know that people actually read what I write. (No flames... I'll only feed them to my Whizzing Wangdoodles.).