Finally! The story I had been wanting to make for so long! This is just the beginning. Note: I own none of these characters. This story is based on the 2005 film.

Chapter 1: Unwarm Welcome

Charlie Buckets witnessed the gates of the factory open up. Never before had the poor boy been so happy, so grateful to step fowards and look a step closer of the chocolate factory he had been so longing to enter since he was only an toddler.

"How great would that be Charlie?" Grandpa Joe wondered. "To win a crimson ticket behind a Wonka bar?"

"That would be almost impossible," Chalie said, his hopes dropping down as he recollected the possibilities. "A first person had already found one."

"That fat kid Augustus," his grandpa said in disgust. "Being gluttonous won't get him anywhere at all."

Top News Article for 2/8/06: First Winner Found

"Found it in my refridgerator!" the obese kid exclaimed, scooping a handful of gravy from the bowl on his table, then attempted to slobber the sauce from his dripping hand.

"Augustus! Manners, there's a camera in here," a plump woman told him as she wiped his hand with a towel.

"And how on earth would it get there?" the newsman asked him in a heavy German accent.

"Maybe I don't remember," Augustus admitted. "I must have taken it out without noticing and put it there, as I was in love with eating chocolate too much."

"You can't tell how much of the Wonka bars we got for Augustus," Mrs. Gloop said, beaming. "He eats so much a day, and fatter and more handsome he gets." Augustus took a small, circular mint chocolate and inserted it into the bottom of his straw, then attempted to suck it up, only to have the candy mushed up and seperated as it entered his mouth. His mom took it away from him.

"Double beef meatloaf or triple burger, my son?" an off-screen man called to Augustus.


"But that's why he won it," Charlie pointed out. He looked out at the frost that collected in his window sill, and out at the falling snow that each snowflake was making its place settled on the ground. Winning that ticket, Chalie thought, was like being one of those lucky snowlakes in France to land on the highest tip of the Eiffel Tower. He sighed as he leant against his broken chair.

The imfamous chocolate factory of Willy Wonka was opening its chances to the world. To five, lucky children, and five lucky parents, who would be fortunate enough to find the Crimson Ticket in one of his chocolate bars to enter into the most luxorious place of wonder and excitement, a once in a lifetime chance.

Charlie looked back at the out-of-date TV behind him. His father was still out in the toothpast factory, and his mother was replacing the gate around the Bucket house with new, carved picket fences. Grandpa George and Grandma Georgina were sound asleep in their bed, and Grandma Josephine was talking to Grandpa Joe, both content and discussing something irrevalent to Charlie's thoughts.

"A second and third winner, miracuously found just a few hours apart, for Wonka's Crimson tickets. Veruca Salt, a girl from London, England has claimed second finder." The two grandparents stopped talking and turned to the TV.

"A worker found it behind a cloth-hooking machine in my Hazermax Nut Factory," said a man, his hands on the shoulders of a girl in a feather, fancy coat. The girl smiled in a greedy manner, as her mother stood besides her dad, smiling falsely.

"It must have fallen out somewhere as all my workers searched for the ticket," Mr. Salt continued. "And that worker, Mrs. Rumberg, tried to steal that crimson prize for herself. I fired her, took it from her."

"You IMBECILE, RUPERT!" shouted a high-pitched shrill from the crowd. As Mr. Salt stepped away with alarm, a few frenetic hands and feet made its way visible in the corner of the camera, before settling once again.

"And I have it now," Veruca finished. "This ticket will bring me a tinier step closer to my List of Needs."

"List of NEEDS?" Grandma Josephine scoffed in disbelief. "That girl of greed. She needs a spanking, that selfish brat. Look at the size of her mansion."

"In Atlanta, Georgia, a confident girl named Violet Beauregarde is surely a winner of her town."

"I'm always the winner," Violet stated. "Twenty-four seven. No person could compete against me."

"I have my baton twirling awards as well!" her mother announced. "But my Violet is so much better."

"My friend and I were walking and saw a mashed up Wonka Bar in front of the exit of my Science Lab with the Crimson Ticket exposed, which I happen to have four trophies for," Violet explained. "We made a bet on who could stuff the most pieces of grass into our mouths." There were stares of amusement and disgust among the news reporters.

"Being a professional gum chewer, I won of course."

"Such, a winner," Ms. Beauregarde sighed, shaking her head in amazement. "I'm glad she's my daughter, unlike being those other moms who have talent-less children."

"Wow, I think I used to be like her when I was in swimming class!" Grandma Georgina suddenly exclaimed, waking up from her bed.

"Oh, tell that woman to shut up," Grandpa Joe groaned, as Charlie turned off the TV. "I mean that Beregard lady, not you Georgina. And that girl too. Being that proud of yourself will lead into self obsession."

"Only two left," Charlie said glumly. Just then, his mother entered the room with old pieces of wood and stone in her arms, and a plastic bag of vegetables.

"Carrots and cabbage," she said aloud, trying to sound as optimistic as she could. "And something else." To their surprise, Mr. Buckets was right behind her, holding something behind his back as both parents had sly grins on their faces.

"Don't hold suspense," came the voice of Grandpa George, waking up. "Tell us!"

"Okay, dad," Mrs. Buckets said, then Mr. Buckets exclaimed, "Onions!" Charlie's father revealed a transparent bag of onions from behind him, then plopped them onto the kitchen table. It was met with stares of disappointment and confusion, except for Grandma Georgina, who looked at the vegetables as if they were the last edible things on earth.

"Not those dear," Mrs. Buckets corrected. "A Wonka Bar." Mr. Buckets took it out from his pocket, the rectangular piece of treasure in wrapping, and handed it straight to Charlie. Charlie's eyes were wide with delight, and as he looked around him at the nodding heads, he slowly opened the bar with the first fold. Then the next fold. Then the one at the back. With no time waiting, he ripped the entire wrapping off.

There was just chocolate.

"Our fourth winner this morning, Mike Teevee in Denver Colorado, again, in the United States," the newswoman announced.

A kid wearing a shirt that displayed a ghastly skull was too busy to notice the tens of news reporters surrounding him, as he was playing a game called Unreal Tournament.

"A Playstion 2," Charlie noticed almost immediately. It would be a dream to receive such a game system, or any game system at all.

"I spotted that piece of aluminum foil in my microwave," Mike explained, not looking up from the TV at all. "Don't know what the heck my mom was doing with it." His mother gave him a baffled look.

"As the radiation waves rippled across the candy and cause the molecules to vibrate and increase temperature, it melted away and revealed the crimson ticket, which wasn't too much of that color anymore. Those loser candy workers would be too make the tickets so easily exposable."

"Actually," started one of the elderly news reporters. "The waves would use infrared-"

"Shut up old man!" Mike yelled, glancing up from his television. The other newsreporters gasped, as the old man was appalled and stepped back away into the crowd.

"Mike!" his father said sharply.

"Dad, I almost died, so shut up yourself!"

"Shut up you angry jerk, son of a bi-!" Grandpa Geoarge started, but Mrs. Buckets ge him a stronger-than-usual elbow hit which made him shut up immediately. He calmed down, still eyeing the TV with an evil glare.

"Only one more Crimson Ticket left," the newswoman said. "Who will be that lucky person?"

And of course, as little Charlie Buckets made his to the Shoehorse Market to pick up his family's delivery that afternoon, crossing KeyLuck Street and seeing the tiniest glint of sunshine in the darkening sky, his dream was found sticking out of a gutter. Charlie never considered how the ticket had found its place in such a bizzare location, but with such a wonderous coincidence to occur before his eyes, he galloped home with the treasure. Tomorrow, at 10.

Charlie's parents tried to move their way to the front of the raving crowd. Many people from all over were there to witness ten people to enter the mysterious chocolate factory of Willy Wonka, and to just be able to catch a glimpse of the chocolatier himself. But as the gates opened, and the lucky ones stepped fowards, anxious and in excitement, the man grinned at his table, in a room in the large factory not far from the entrance.

A small figure, a short person in a red uniform, did a sign language to the man in a quick manner.

"I know they're all here," he replied, picking up his cane from beside his chair. "Just like I wanted. Set up the fake candy canes, the circular sucking thing, examine the chute, now, now now!" The person crossed his arms as a positive to the chocolatier's commands and stepped out of the room. After taking a glance around, the man got up to his feet.

"Greetings to you all!" the speaker shouted, as the ten guests halted in front of a flight of stairs, which led up to a giant wall with seven doors. "Come up the stairs! Please enjoy the welcome show as you wait for me to come!" The visitors had no choice to to go up the stairs, until they were in front of the colored entrances.

"Where's the candy?" Augustus questioned.

"Welcome show?" Veruca complained. "I want to get in now Daddy!"

"I told you this sucks," Mike told his father.

"Ooh, how exciting," Mrs. Gloop commented. But it wasn't what she expected at all, along with the others. Suddenly, in front of the seven doors which were colored brightly in different shades, came down overlarged objects attached to strings. The visitors were startled and stepped back, as they realized that puppets were dancing before their eyes. Their wooden nutcracker-like mouth were moving up and down, and Charlie could tell that each one had a recording in their bodies as if they were actually talking. It was more like a mysterious chant, as the guests looked in interest and confusion, and slight amusement.

Snisne ves, de enew susew,


Snam Uh Node Ef Ew!

Ecala psih T liu bew,

Wonka! Wonka! That genious man!

Such another person can

not be like him, so precious mind

he has!

The puppets kept on dancing up and down and moving their mouths. Mike wasn't impressed at all with the poor quality of the puppets, and Violet's mother was thinking of putting her daughter in a ventriloquist contest, with the award of first place being ten thousand dollars.

"Their strings are tangling up," Grandpa Joe said in concern. The puppets were going wild, bopping up and down on their strings as they began to fly from side to side. The chantish song sped up more and more, until one of the puppets flew off from the hidden compartment in the ceiling and hit into the stair right besides Veruca, who shrieked and got pulled away from her dad. The others started to back away down the slight of stairs in alarm as the mechanical puppets began to go beserk.

"What are those stuff?" Mr. Buckets wondered, baffled as the onlookers behind the gate saw the strange puppets flying all over the place. There were over twenty of them dancing simutaneously.

"What on Earth is happening?" Mr. Teevee wondered, as sparks began to fly all around. More puppets were unhooked and thrown about, one hitting into Violet as she blocked it off with her hands. As Violet looked back at her hands, they were wet with slime.

"Gross," she groaned, as all of them started to run down back the stairs in panic. The puppets were crazy, steaming out smoke which came out from inside the ceilng until there were too many sparks being emitted into the open.

"Stop this nonsense!" Mr. Salt said out loud. Just then, the power shut off and the puppets slowly started to die, their hands and bodies laying limp and hanging from above. The people simply looked up at all the smoke that had been created, and to their surprise, there was someone standing at the top of the stairs was a man, holding a colored walking stick in his left hand and his right hand at the center of his torso. His clothes were red, sparkling as a beam of sun hit directly where the factory owner was standing.

"Are you..." Grandpa Joe started.

"Yes Mr. Bucket. I'm Willy Wonka, the amazing chocolatier."

Things would start to get a bit more odd and evil. Wait for next chapter!