As Sweet As Chocolate

Violet Beauregarde & Mike Teavee

Since it was my day off from work today, Charlie and I decided to go for a walk around town. As we were walking, we saw an old man throw a folded newspaper in the trash can. We ran up to the trash can and Charlie grabbed the newspaper. He opened the folded newspaper and it showed what was on the front cover.

"The third ticket was found by Miss Violet Beauregarde, from Atlanta, Georgia." I read the headline. Charlie and I looked at each other and, then, we headed back to the house, with the newspaper.

When we got home, we told everyone about the third golden ticket winner. Then, father turned on the little television to watch the winner, Violet Beauregarde, being interviewed. Charlie sat on the edge of the bed while I grabbed a chair and sat next to him.

"These are just some of the two hundred and sixty-three trophies and medals my Violet has won." Violet's mother, Mrs. Beauregarde, said, proudly, as she showed the reporters the various trophies on the selves behind her and Violet, who was holding up her golden ticket in her hand while smacking her gum at the same time. It bothered and disgusted me so much seeing her do that.

"I'm a gum chewer, mostly. But when I heard about these ticket things, I laid off the gum, switched to candy bars." Violet said, confidently.

"She's just a driven young woman. I don't know where she gets it." Mrs. Beauregarde said. I rolled my eyes. 'I can't imagine where she actually gets it from.' I thought to myself, sarcastically.

Then, Violet continued, "I'm the Junior World Champion Gum Chewer. This piece of gum, I'm chewing right at this moment, I've been working on for three months solid. That's a record."

"Of course, I did have my share of trophies. Mostly baton." Mrs. Beauregarde bragged, as she showed off her baton successes on the wall.

"So, it says that Wonka is gonna get this special prize, better than all the rest. I don't care who those other four are. That kid is gonna be me." Violet sneered. "Tell them why, Violet." Mrs. Beauregarde ushered her. "Because I'm a winner." Violet said, arrogantly. I shook my head, in disbelief.

"What a beastly girl." Grandma Josephine scoffed. "Despicable." Grandma Georgina spoke. Grandpa George leaned in towards her and said, softly, "You don't know what we're talking about." Then, mother and I glanced at her. "Dragonflies?" Grandma Georgina asked, innocently. Mother and I smiled a little bit at her.

Then, suddenly, the news reporter spoke. "But wait, this is just in. The fourth golden ticket has been found by a boy called 'Mike Teavee'." He reported. I looked at Charlie, gloomily, who looked at me, with the same look as me. The fourth golden has been found and there was now one more golden ticket left in this world with our chances of finding it being even smaller than ever.

The news switches to the footage of the fourth golden ticket winner, Mike Teavee, from Denver, Colorado. He was sitting on what looked like the living room floor, playing some sort of violent video game, with his middle age parents standing next to him.

"All you had to do was track the manufacturing dates, offset by the weather, and the derivative of the Nikkei Index. A retard could figure it out." Mike explained to the news reporters. I was confused on what he was saying. He was so ignorant.

Then, Mike's father, Mr. Teavee, stepped in and explained, "Most of the time, I don't know what he's talking about. You know, kids these days, what with all the technology..."

Then, Mike shouts at his television as he was continuing to play his video game, "Die! Die! Die!". Mr. Teavee sighed, hopelessly, and continued, "Doesn't seem like they stay kids forever."

Moments later, Mike threw this remote controller on the side and he, finally, looked up at the reporters and said, "In the end, I only had to buy one candy bar." "And how did it taste?" One of the news reporters asked him. "I don't know. I hate chocolate." Mike said, like he didn't care at all.

I was not happy with that Mike kid. I couldn't believe what I heard from that little brat. He hates chocolate and yet, he's still going to the chocolate factory. I think it's unfair. He should've given that ticket to somebody else who deserves it more than he does.

But, then, Grandpa George stepped in, furiously, "Well, it's a good thing you're going to a chocolate factory, you ungrateful little-" I, quickly, covered Charlie's ears so he didn't have to hear Grandpa George's bad-mannered words.

After Grandpa George was done saying his peace, I uncovered Charlie's ears and we looked at the television. "That question is: who will be the winner of the last gold-" The news reporter started saying, but Charlie turned off the television, leaving the room silent for a few seconds. I grabbed the newspaper and started reading it.

Then, Charlie spoke. "Dad?" He asked father. "Yes, Charlie?" Father answered. "Why aren't you at work?" Charlie asked, curiously. Without him looking, I glanced up at mother and she simply nodded at me, knowing what the real answer was. I nodded back in response and looked at father, sadly, without Charlie noticing me.

Since father didn't want to worry Charlie, he just said, "Oh, well, um, the toothpaste factory thought they'd give me some time off." "Like summer vacation?" Charlie asked. "Yeah. Something like that." Father said, with a smile, trying to hide his sadness.

***

While our grandparents were napping, I climbed up to me and Charlie's room, where Charlie was sitting on my bed, looking down to hear mother and father's conversation. I looked down and saw mother hugging father from behind him, saying, "Don't worry, Mr. Bucket. Our luck will change. I know it."

I sat down next to Charlie and I wrapped my arms around him, comforting him. He, then, wrapped his arms around me, while resting his head on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Charlie. Things will get better for us soon. I'm sure it will." I said, trying to say encouraging words to him, while I was looking at the chocolate factory at the same time. He nodded without saying a word.