BeautifulYoungPrince
Star
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2010
- Location
- Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory
The day Charlie Bucket found the last golden ticket was, or so he thought, the best day of his entire life. However, Charlie was mistaken, and he would soon realize that in fact, the best day of his life would be the day he met Mr. Willy Wonka. Charlie was the poorest boy in town, and he never expected to recieve more than a single Wonka chocolate bar a year, let alone be invited inside his factory for a tour of a lifetime. At first he had been skeptical, thinking he should sell the ticket for money for his family, but as Grandpa Joe had said, "Money isn't special. In fact, they print more and more every day. But this ticket..."
His grandfather George had been the one who'd been convinced he should go with Charlie to the factory, so it was those two who had been waiting eagerly outside Wonka's factory gates alongside the four other couples. Looking pale and a tad underfed in his usual old striped sweater, Charlie was also the kindest and most grateful child there. Veruca Salt was beyond spoiled, Mike Teavee was smug and bratty, Violet Beuregarde was aggressive and bossy, and Augustus Gloop...well, he'd been allowed one too many chocolate bars. All of them seemed to have rather negative defining qualities, all except for Charlie. Charlie was not faster, not taller, nor richer, nor more successful than other children. He did, however, happen to have an excellent and blossoming imagination, along with being one of the sweetest boys you'd meet. The group was told they'd see Willy Wonka at approximately 10 o'clock in the morning, and they certainly did.
He was a glorious sight, this chocolatier. Charlie could only stare as he let them inside. He'd never seen a more strangely beautiful man in his life; his face was extremely pale, and his lips were shapely and naturally rouged. His smile was brilliant and handsome, and his eyes, they were between purple and blue, perlexing to say the least. Willy Wonka's hair was certainly something to behold as well, in a sort of bob-like fashion, and rediculously smooth and well kept; women everywhere would have been jealous, and it looked as though Mrs. Beuragarde already was. Also, for a sweet-obsessed candy maker, Mr. Wonka seemed to have the whitest, straighest, most wonderful smile of anyone. Charlie stumbled a little as he was shoved aside by Violet Beuragarde on the way in, passing by as Mr. Wonka held the door open. The boy glanced up at him, trying not to seem too entranced, and smiled shyly before following the group inside.
His grandfather George had been the one who'd been convinced he should go with Charlie to the factory, so it was those two who had been waiting eagerly outside Wonka's factory gates alongside the four other couples. Looking pale and a tad underfed in his usual old striped sweater, Charlie was also the kindest and most grateful child there. Veruca Salt was beyond spoiled, Mike Teavee was smug and bratty, Violet Beuregarde was aggressive and bossy, and Augustus Gloop...well, he'd been allowed one too many chocolate bars. All of them seemed to have rather negative defining qualities, all except for Charlie. Charlie was not faster, not taller, nor richer, nor more successful than other children. He did, however, happen to have an excellent and blossoming imagination, along with being one of the sweetest boys you'd meet. The group was told they'd see Willy Wonka at approximately 10 o'clock in the morning, and they certainly did.
He was a glorious sight, this chocolatier. Charlie could only stare as he let them inside. He'd never seen a more strangely beautiful man in his life; his face was extremely pale, and his lips were shapely and naturally rouged. His smile was brilliant and handsome, and his eyes, they were between purple and blue, perlexing to say the least. Willy Wonka's hair was certainly something to behold as well, in a sort of bob-like fashion, and rediculously smooth and well kept; women everywhere would have been jealous, and it looked as though Mrs. Beuragarde already was. Also, for a sweet-obsessed candy maker, Mr. Wonka seemed to have the whitest, straighest, most wonderful smile of anyone. Charlie stumbled a little as he was shoved aside by Violet Beuragarde on the way in, passing by as Mr. Wonka held the door open. The boy glanced up at him, trying not to seem too entranced, and smiled shyly before following the group inside.