Mr Willy Wonka’s Factory

           Everyoneoftheseoldpeoplewasoverninety. Theywereasshrivelledasprunes, andasbonyasskeletons, andthroughouttheday,untilCharliemadehisappearance,theylayhuddledintheironebed, twoateitherend, withnightcapsontokeeptheirheadswarm, dozingthetimeawaywithnothingtodo. Butassoonastheyheardthedooropening, andheardCharlie’svoicesaying, ’Goodevening,GrandpaJoeandGrandmaJosephine,andGrandpaGeorgeandGrandmaGeorgina,’ thenallfourofthemwouldsuddenlysitup, andtheiroldwrinkledfaceswouldlightupwithsmilesofpleasure —andthetalkingwouldbegin. Fortheylovedthislittleboy. Hewastheonlybrightthingintheirlives, andhiseveningvisitsweresomethingthattheylookedforwardtoalldaylong. Often,Charlie’smotherandfatherwouldcomeinaswell, andstandbythedoor,listeningtothestoriesthattheoldpeopletold; andthus,forperhapshalfanhoureverynight, thisroomwouldbecomeahappyplace, andthewholefamilywouldforgetthatitwashungryandpoor. 

           Oneevening,whenCharliewentintoseehisgrandparents,hesaidtothem, ’IsitreallytruethatWonka’sChocolateFactory isthebiggestintheworld?’ 

           ’True?’ criedallfourofthematonce. ’Ofcourseit’strue! Goodheavens,didn’tyouknowthat? It’saboutfiftytimesasbigasanyother!’ 

           ’AndisMrWillyWonkareallythecleverestchocolatemakerintheworld?’ 

           ’Mydearboy,’ saidGrandpaJoe,raisinghimselfupalittlehigheronhispillow, ’MrWillyWonkaisthemostamazing, themostfantastic, themostextraordinarychocolatemakertheworldhaseverseen! Ithoughteverybodyknewthat!’