A/N: This was a request from 'retro mania'. Hope you enjoy it, bud!
Disclaimer: Me no own anything. Don't sue, please.
The Nuisance in Time
Charlie gazed out the window of his small room, rested his chin on his palm and sighed, watching his breath fog up the glass.
The room behind him was crowded with bookcases full of cookbooks and poetry collections, and his tiny bed shoved in the corner.
He could have chosen a bigger room, with a balcony and its own seperate bathroom, but he chose the smaller one because it felt more natural.
Besides, what was he going to do with all of that extra space anyway?
It had been nearly a year since the infamous tour had taken place, and although he had his family and the encentric chocolatier for company, he still found himself wishing for some real company.
Suddenly, he heard the door to his room open with a gentle creak of the hinges, so he turned around with a violent protest from his ancient rolling chair.
Instead of his mother or father, he saw Mr. Wonka standing in the doorway with the usual odd look on his face. Willy wasn't wearing his coat because frankly, having the heat cranking 24/7 meant it was roasting in every room of that blasted factory.
Charlie offered his mentor a dreary smile (which Willy noticed was painfully out of character for him), and said, "Come on in."
Willy walked inside and sat down on the skinny stool Charlie kept in the corner, folding his gloved hands in his lap and clearing his throat.
Charlie looked up from the foggy glass of his room's large picture window, and said, "What is it?"
He expected another lesson on candy-making or a lecture on how to ignore lectures, but instead Willy said in an oddly serious tone, "Are you... lonely, Charlie?"
The younger boy adopted a confused face, and asked, "Sorry?"
Willy turned his hands over in his lap, and said again, "Are you lonely? In this factory all the time?"
Charlie grinned sheepishly, and said, "Sometimes it does get a little lonely."
Willy offered Charlie a tiny smile that didn't quite expose his brilliant white teeth, and said, "Is there anyone you would like to invite over?"
Charlie frowned again, and stared out the window for a couple of seconds before saying, "The other kids from the tour."
The chocolatier paused, then said with genuine curiosity, "Are you sure you want those little brats in here?"
Charlie smirked, and said, "I kind of want to see how they turned out. Besides, it would be the nice thing to do."
Willy frowned childishly, and said, "But it's also the boring thing to do."
Charlie tapped the window patiently, and gave Mr. Wonka a patronizing look.
Willy waved one gloved hand, and said reluctantly, "Fine."
Charlie's face lit up, and Willy said with almost a regretful demeanor, "I'll make the arrangements."
The chocolatier dictated four different letters to his closest assistant Doris, who clicked away at lightning speed on her typewriter.
She sealed each letter in its own envelope, making sure to include a stamp on each one, and wrote the name of each recepient on the front in her swooping handwriting in her favorite golden ink.
She signed to him once everything was done, "All of the letters are in order, and ready to be delivered. Do you want to send them by regular post or overnight?"
Willy thought this over, then said, "Overnight."
Doris nodded curtly, then made the neccessary arrangements.
Willy scowled as the letters were sent on their way, and said to himself, "I really hope this makes Charlie happy, 'cause I'm not doing this again.
Mrs. Gloop waddled out to her mailbox, and pulled out a few letters.
She threw away the ads and junkmail, but paused when she saw the letter addressed to her son.
Normally she would have thrown it away with the rest of the junkmail, but the neat golden ink and handwriting intriged her, so she pocketed it and waddled back inside.
She entered the house, and immediately saw her son pigging out on the large breakfast she had laid out for him.
Instead of letting him eat like she usually would have done, she said, "Augustus, you have a letter."
Mr. Perkins, the Salt family butler, walked down the expansive hallway towards Mr. Salt's office with a single letter on his serving platter.
He had gone through the family mail, and seen the odd letter with its golden lettering and expensive stationery.
Instead of disregarding it like the magazine subscritions, he took it straight to his employer.
Mr. Salt heard the door to his office open, and he looked up and saw his butler.
He said firmly, "What is it Perkins?" to which the butler replied, "Your daughter has recieved a letter, sir."
Violet Beauregard jogged past her neighbor's house, and came to a slow halt in front of her mailbox.
She pulled out the letter inside, and saw it read 'Violet Beauregard' on the front in fancy golden ink.
She knew her mother would confinscate it once she got inside, so she tucked it in the front pocket of her jacket and closed the door of the mailbox while walking inside.
Mrs. Beauregard saw her embarassingly blue daughter enter the house, and said, "Anything in the mail?"
Violet shook her head, and marched quickly upstairs to see who had written to her.
Mr. Teevee walked outside to check the mail while thanking God that his son's high-definition speakers didn't reach entirely out to the front yard.
While savoring the slight silence, he checked the mailbox and saw it was empty save one letter.
He pulled it out, and walked inside slowly while puzzling over the golden ink and why this person would write to his son.
He walked inside, while wincing from the noise, and yelled over to the impossibly tall boy in the next room, "Mike! You have mail!"
Noticing his son had not acknowledged him, he just set the letter on the kitchen counter.
A/N: Hope you've liked the story so far!