A/N: Thought I'd start a new fic. Will still be writing "More Than Her Mother" but sometimes you just get writers block with one subject so you want to write another fic.

This contains a female Charlie.

Also, while I'm fully aware of the Buckets all being British, I'm going to stick with US currency. Let's just say the four grandparents, having been friends for years, had all decided to go to America to better themselves in their younger days. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I think it's plausible.

Also, I apologise if some of my American words aren't to the satisfaction of my readers. I'll try, but I can't make any promises.

Oh, and this is the Johnny Depp version. I like Gene Wilder, but I like Johnny Depp more.

ORDINARY GIRL

There was nothing extraordinary about Wendy Bucket. She'd never been exceptionally good at anything, she wasn't beautiful and she'd never had anyone she could really call a true friend.

Well, when there isn't enough money knocking about to feed your family, it does rather put the mockers on you.

Since she started Kindergarten at the age of five, she'd been ridiculed for her clothing; her woolly jumpers had holes in, her pants were too big and her shoes were always dull and, more often than not, her soles were hanging off and flapping underneath her feet.

Without having any friends at school, she desperately tried to stick to her studies, but many of her classmates would sabotage any effort Wendy put into her work. If they couldn't pass the class with straight-A's, then Wendy couldn't either.

It was in Third Grade that Wendy gave up caring about her work. She knew everyone hated her for trying to do well and there was one boy she had to sit next to who would often swap all his test papers over when she wasn't looking and she would have to receive an 'F' while he got the 'A-minus.'

One day, however, she decided to get her own back (quite uncharacteristic for the greasy-haired brunette.)

She purposely put in all the wrong answers on her test paper, knowing full-well that he would swap it anyway.

When the results came back in the next lesson, there were two 'F' grades instead of one. Wendy was satisfied with herself and the cheater got his comeuppance.

Needless to say, he never tried it again.

Wendy never got to the Eighth Grade at Middle School.

On her thirteenth birthday, she never showed up to school. Oh, it wasn't through illness or truancy, but she felt it was her duty to look after her family.

Her father worked for pittance at the local toothpaste factory and the wage was barely enough to get all seven members of the Bucket family off cabbage soup.

Wendy had insisted though (even after many protests from her parents and grandparents) that her place in the house was providing stability for the family.

Strangely enough she didn't have to look far.

So it had turned out, the newsagent at the end of the street was looking for someone to deliver the morning papers after his last paperboy moved to a different town.

Wendy had signed up for job. True, she only got five dollars an hour, but for three hours each seven days a week, it did mount up.

The newsagent himself had considered the plain girl with the straggly hair and holes in her shoes as the best little papergirl he'd ever seen. She was certainly better than the boys he'd employed.

He had given her a bicycle for delivering papers to the locals. Admittedly it wasn't best suited, being that it had belonged to a boy. It was very awkward being a girl, trying not to get stuck the crossbar with a ridiculously high seat.

It was then, when he saw her physically struggling just to stay on, that he ordered a girl's bike be sent to the shop.

Three weeks later, Wendy arrived at the shop at the usual time of five o'clock in the morning ready to just grab the three sacks of newspapers and be off on her rounds.

Imagine her surprise then when she arrived to find a very elegant pushbike on the front steps. Not able to hide her curiosity, she read the attached note.

For a very wonderful papergirl. Hope there is no longer a struggle to mount.
Tony

It was evident it had been for her; he only had one papergirl.

Once she got on that method of transportation, there was no stopping her. It was so much easier to ride a bike made for a girl and she finished her rounds quicker; perhaps for the ease of the new vehicle.

After a week and her new-found efficiency, he doubled her wages and offered her a job working on the counter at the shop after finishing her morning rounds.

True, it was eight in the morning until six in the evening, but if it brought home the bacon, it was worth it.

Working at the shop was certainly an improvement to the family funds.

They could afford to have a proper Sunday dinner, even if the chicken, pork or whatever wasn't the largest.

Meat may have been sparse on the seven plates, but vegetables were cheap enough and with a little bit of gravy it was more than ample.

She was sixteen now, though, and she didn't have long until her birthday.

One day, as she walked home from the shop, flyers were being stuck to lampposts, advertising an offer Mr. Willy Wonka was handing out. It was the chance to enter his famous chocolate factory.

Wendy's Grandpa Joe had once worked for the chocolatier and used to tell Wendy all-manner of stories about him; about the sweetshop that used to be on the corner of Cherry Street (now the newsagents where she worked) and the tale of Prince Pondicherry, which she had always been amused by.

The Indian Royal surely must have known about chocolate's tendency to melt; common sense should have told him, yet he refused to listen.

When it had all melted, however, he requested another one. He certainly wasn't the brightest Prince in the world.

Wonka didn't have the time to spend planning another, though, for he had others on his mind. Since expanding the business from the tiny little candy store, he now had a larger-than-life factory with equally large problems.

Spies were being sent in to pilfer all his secret recipes from under his nose. Perhaps he'd hoped, at the time, people could actually be trusted, though Wendy suspected after the incident, that he'd find it very hard to trust anyone again.

Once he found out about all his wonderful ideas being stolen (even seeing it with his own two eyes where they had set up marquees in the same street his store was originally on) he dismissed all his workers and announced the permanent closure of his factory.

Wendy often wondered why he would say such a thing if he never intended to, for the factory was still up and running, though it was a mystery to all.

For one, not a soul was ever seen entering or leaving the grey building and yet Wonka chocolate bars were still coming out like no one's business.

Surely one man couldn't do all that on his own without his own health suffering? He'd probably lose his marbles.

Wendy often wondered if he did have someone helping him, though, up until now, there was no way anyone in the world would ever know.

Breaking from her reverie as the icy wind stung her cheeks, she continued reading, even though the light was exceptionally dim, being the middle of winter.

She noted it offered five individuals the opportunity to find a golden ticket inside the wrappers of five standard Wonka bars.

It was a game of luck, obviously, but she hoped whoever won them appreciated them.

Continuing her journey home (well, the little shack she and her family called 'home') she let her mind go blank of the upcoming madness and instead focused on getting out of the bitter cold.

She was quite soggy when she shut the front door however, what with all the snow that had been falling around her.

She could feel her feet were frozen, but that didn't stop her running to give her mother a hug, then her father, then each of her grandparents in turn.

Helena Bucket stood over the small stove heating a pot of beef stew. Even living in America, it was nice to enjoy good old British food every once in a while. It was something she and her husband grew up on.

Their own parents, the Buckets and the Millers, had known each other years before Noah and Helena met.

Times had been hard and George Bucket and Joe Miller had both been forced to take redundancy.

They had been working at the same meat factory since they left school at thirteen. Then, they were getting older; certainly approaching sixty and the foreman thought it best to let the old ones go, even after four decades of loyal service.

So they had taken their wives and children to America and all six of them had lived together in a little rundown shack.

Conversation had been at its peak between the four seniors at this time, though both Noah and Helena attempted to avoid each other as often as possible. It was all very awkward between the young couple.

Things had soon become easier for the family. Joe had gotten a job working for the 'New-Chocolatier-on-the-Block,' as it were, though George, sadly, couldn't get a job, so had to stay at home. He was, however, far from idle, so he was certainly doing his bit.

Two years into this new way of life, Noah and Helena had overcome their timidity towards one another and had married. Another year and they had a little baby girl they named Wendy.

Helena had always been fond of 'Peter Pan' and always wanted to name her daughter, if she had one, Wendy.

And then things changed again; Joe lost his job and wound up in bed like the other three elders. He'd been there ever since.

Wendy had heard all the stories about how she came to be, though didn't want to think too much of them now. Instead she settled for sitting on the bed with her grandparents, as the whole family ate their supper.

Wendy did regret something though. She had intended to buy some bread that morning, but with the chaos at work (especially the order that should have arrived that day and didn't) and Tony in a very irritable mood at the incompetence of the supplier, she had forgotten all about it; what with having to deal with all the customers herself while he was shouting the odds over the telephone.

But now, with the new-found competition, it was doubtful things were going to get any better and she dreaded the morning she may be presented with.

A/N: Well, there you go. Probably a bit all over the place and boring, but I thought people might like to know how everything came about. I've often noticed lack of imagination in fan-fiction, where they just go word-for-word from either the books or films, so I wanted to try and be a bit different.

Thanks for reading.

If all goes well, you might have chapter two up in the next few days… or maybe another for "More Than Her Mother," but we'll see.