XXB, Inflation, Berryfication Fantasy, XXWG - Four foes, four fates, each more extreme than the one prior, as Charlie Bucket deals with candy factory foes
Author's Note: Hi, this is a story I wrote a few years ago (before the new movie). I don't normally write fanfics, I hate the idea that I would probably ruin someone else's work. This has inflation, weight gain and berryification of the extreme variety. Enjoy.
Charlie Bucket looked up from his mountain of paperwork. He’d figured out why he’d been chosen by Willy ten years ago to take over the factory; Charlie was a details oriented person, as well as someone who could appreciate the finer aspects of candy making and invention. He’d been under Slugworth’s tutelage since he joined the Wonka factory, and just two years ago he’d been made CEO in a small private affair.
Under Slugworth he learned all the things necessary to run a major company, and when he’d mastered that, Wonka would teach him the magic of invention and candy making. Slugworth was on a vacation right now, and Wonka was on one of his various sabbaticals to countries that no one had ever heard of. His own parents and grandparents were at various vacations and spas around the world, living off the vast fortune Charlie had access to. All except Grampa Joe; since he didn’t take any of the pills to restore his youth, he had died shortly after Charlie had become CEO. He missed him terribly, but they all respected his decision. Now, though, he had some unpleasant business to attend to, but their conclusions would be most satisfying.
On his desk sat files on four people that had been the principal instigators in recent troubles for the company. That disaster comes in threes wasn’t accurate, for him disaster was a quadruple threat. First was Larry Jackson, a young teamster union negotiator. He was responsible for strikes and intimidation against Wonka and his secret work force of Oompa Loompas. Charlie eventually worked out a shipping arrangement with Larry and the teamsters, but the grief that he’d been given required an appropriate response.
The next was Fauna Moonsilver. Some hippy environmental whack job who claimed that the sky was falling, and that the Chocolate Factory was mostly responsible for it. Her threatened lawsuits and public appearances and boycotts had cost him considerable money and patience. In the end he agreed to give a large donation to her cause as well as provide scientific equipment for their studies.
Third was Monty Shlick, a lawyer that made even Slugworth proud and disgusted at the same time. He was responsible for opening a class action lawsuit against the Factory and several major fast food companies, blaming them for the nation’s obesity problem. The judge threw it out, but the door had been opened, and there were certain to be future lawsuits, unless possibly Shlick was unable to lead the charge.
Finally there was Emma Narter. She was a writer and investigative reporter. She was potentially the most dangerous of them all. She was just starting to write a book, which tried to piece together what really happened to the children that went into the Chocolate Factory, and why they came out so … different. She had managed to get interviews with some of those close to the children, who were now grown up like Charlie.
Wonka thought he was like Teflon, but he wasn’t. That contract they signed with Narter didn’t cover every contingency, and this Emma had found a way to break the silence. There was one person she had almost no reliable information on; ironically this was the one who had broken the contract almost immediately and tried spilling the beans. Once she somehow secured that interview, the Chocolate Factory would be sunk. Charlie had plugged quite a few of the leaks from that first day in the factory more than ten years ago; tonight, though, would be the last leak plugged.
He looked at the monitors above his desk. Around the country right now were special teams of Oompa Loompas. He called them his trash collectors, and they were good at their job. They resisted the urge to sing, they worked in pairs and could effectively make people or things disappear with any number of well-meaning, but crazy, Wonka inventions. Tonight each team was a pair of Loompas, one standing on the shoulders of the other and covered in a trench coat. The one on top had a special camera; they'd finally fixed it and reduced it down in size to be useful, and it could transport things via TV waves. The Loompas were in place, each waiting for their designated target.
Larry was coming out of his girlfriend’s apartment and heading home to his wife when he was approached by a tall man with his hat down and collar up, holding what looked like a camcorder that suddenly flashed.
Fauna was leaving a meeting where she had planned her next protest. Waiting at the door to the coffee shop was a strange man holding a camcorder; she thought she saw a wisp of green hair before there was a brilliant flash.
Monty was entering his apartment after a hard day of gouging companies. The door to the apartment behind him suddenly opened and as he turned he only saw a bright flash.
Emma was at her home, going over the evidence she had gathered regarding the Beauregard family, and how they and so many of their acquaintances had disappeared. One by one, all gone, any that were there at the Factory, plus anyone who may have spoken to them. News stories suppressed, altered or just disappearing. The only thing she heard about was that supposedly there was one investigation into the disappearance of Violet’s long-time gum chewing rival; she disappeared without a trace like the others, and supposedly her bedroom was drenched in blueberry juice.
She had heard quiet and unsubstantiated rumors that others had vanished under similar circumstances. No valid sources could confirm it though, and she received little cooperation from anyone. It all pointed to something nasty going on in the Chocolate Factory. Her doorbell rang and she went to it and looked through the peephole. She was very surprised when she saw a leering orange-faced, green-haired man staring back at her. She was even more surprised when she heard the mail slot near her knees open up followed by a brilliant flash.
All of the Oompa Loompas in the field reported their success, and Charlie told them to come back to the Factory. Each pair then put the first camera away and pulled out a second one. The second one they placed on the ground near them and set the timer, then hurriedly got into place in front of its field of view. A few seconds later a flash went off and the pairs were gone, transported back to the Factory on TV waves. The camera was the disposable variety, and only had the power for one shot before it began to disintegrate. Four troublemakers were about to learn that when you kicked this Bucket, you got kicked back.
Charlie took the Glass Elevator to the TV room where all had been assembled. Once there he saw the four pairs of Oompa Loompas exiting an enormous TV screen, the size of an entire wall. They were normal sized (for Oompa Loompas) and were shedding their disguises and putting back on their normal attire.
Wonka was so impractical at times. He was willing to spend millions developing some kind of new and special TV to allow things transmitted by the camera to come back in their normal size. It was Charlie who pointed out that if they used a bigger TV it would probably do the trick, and he was right. It was far too big (about the size of a movie theater screen) to be practical for home use, but was invaluable for jobs such as these.
The targets for tonight were not normal sized, though; they had been projected to a normal size TV using different wavelengths. They were all gathered on a table where their TV had been before some Oompa Loompas had removed it. They were perhaps six inches tall apiece and were quite confused at the moment. Each of them knew the other in a roundabout way, due to their respective actions against Charlie but none had an idea of how they got here, what had happened to them, and what was in store for them. They all quaked in fear as the giant Charlie loomed into view. They wanted to run but didn’t dare, as the table was so high (to them) they would probably get killed if they fell off it.
Charlie loved moments like these, just as Willy Wonka himself did. He saw them all huddling together, squeaking impotently in fear as he approached; they had no idea what he had in store for them but they all deserved it very richly. The table came up to his waist only, and he towered above his shrunken persecutors. Oompa Loompas gathered around quietly, waiting for his orders. Unlike Wonka, Charlie hated their singing, and forbade them from doing it in his presence.
“Well, well,” said Charlie, knowing his voice must sound like he was using a megaphone to their tiny ears. “Four naughty little people, trying to end the Chocolate Factory. Trying to destroy a man whose only desire is to bring sweetness to people in such a bitter world. Trying to put the Candyman out of business. Shame, shame, shame. Well…” Charlie paused and leaned forward, directing his ear at the diminutive people. “Yes?”
“What are you going to do to us?!” squeaked Emma. Of all those here, she probably knew the most of what Charlie and Willy Wonka could do to a person.
“Well, now, that would be telling. Let’s leave it at this - I’ve got a special treat for all of you. Now then, let’s get started. Hmmm…we’ll start with you, Larry,” said Charlie as he reached his hand toward them.
Larry broke and ran from the rest as Charlie’s enormous hand loomed over him. It was no use though; Larry was easily cornered and picked up by Charlie. He handed him to a waiting Oompa Loompa, who gingerly held him in both hands.
“Transport him to the loading bay, and bring him back to normal size, give him the Taffy treatment, and dress him accordingly. I’ll be there in just a bit.”
He then turned to Fauna. “You’re next Chicken Little,” he said as he reached down for her. She clung to Monty Schlick, who was desperately trying to pry her off of him, but Charlie had no problem separating them, and handing her to the next waiting Oompa Loompa.
“Bring her to the green house, and give her the Taffy treatment also. Don’t put her back to normal size though, and put her in that outfit I had laid out.” The Oompa Loompa took her away, her protesting shrieks fading as he walked out of the room.
“Now, let’s see, who’s next. The muckraker or the bottom feeder? I think I’ll go with the bottom feeder. You do know the difference between lawyers and bottom feeders don’t you Monty? Bottom feeders don’t eat their young. C’mere now. That’s it,” said Charlie.
He needed to use both hands to catch him, one to corral him to a corner, and the other to pick him up. He was wriggling like crazy, but there was no way he’d squirm out of Charlie’s hands. He handed him to another Oompa Loompa.
“Take him to the storage area next to the Candyland. Give him a dose of the new candy we developed, and put the receiver in him. Oh, and bring him back to normal size also.” The Oompa Loompa nodded and walked off, cupping his hands over the lawyer to make sure he didn’t get away.
“And last, but certainly not least, Emma. Emma, Emma, Emma. The truth, unfortunately, will not set you free. No, the truth is definitely not your friend here. Digging up dirt on me and Willy, trying to expose our organization. You kept looking, kept trying to figure out what happened to Violet, what happened to her friends, her family. You’re soon going to find out.”
He reached down and picked her up easily; she seemed resigned to her fate. An Oompa Loompa was ready and waiting for his instructions. “Bring her back to normal size, and take her to the juicing room.”
The Oompa Loompa nodded and carried her off. Charlie smiled and rubbed his hands as he headed for the Glass Elevator.
The trip to the loading area was brief, thanks to how fast the Elevator was. The loading bay was typically the closest area of the Factory to the outside world. Assembled there were a small troop of Oompa Loompas, holding various lines attached to Larry. Larry was a young black man, in his early thirties. The position of Union negotiator for the teamsters was his steppingstone for what he hoped would be a brilliant political career.
Larry Jackson saw potential for the Presidency in himself, but Charlie was about to bring those dreams to an abrupt end. He was back to normal size and dressed in a form fitting one-piece silver outfit that covered everything but his head and neck, his hands and feet. This outfit was soaked in his special Taffy treatment chemical, and was right now changing the resilience and elasticity of Larry’s body. It was a gradual process; as long as he was in it his body would become more and more pliant and stretchy. It also made the muscles weak and soft. His struggles were ineffectual and weakening already as what looked like a flatbed truck was backed up to where they were. On top of the flatbed seemed to be some kind of strange steel framework that extended the length of the trailer. At the corners of the framework were powered winches and at the center of the back of the trailer was what looked to be the tail end of a chemical trailer, complete with a port to load and unload its cargo.
“You won’t get away with this, Bucket, whatever it is you’re going to do!” shouted Larry; his struggles were changing from trying to escape, to merely trying to stand on his own power. His limbs seemed to be melting, becoming flabby and sagging.
“I wonder if Hoffa said the same thing,” chuckled Charlie. An Oompa Loompa came forward holding a silvery looking valve in one hand and a spray bottle with a thin straw attached to the nozzle in the other hand. Charlie took the valve and approached Larry. Meanwhile an Oompa Loompa stood to either side of Larry on stepladders, and they grabbed his head and held it securely, forcing open his mouth.
“I’ve heard enough of your garbage to last a lifetime. All your talk of brotherhood, all your talk of caring about workers, all of your lies. You never cared about them, about the people you were going to be putting out of work. It was all about getting more dues, and using me as a steppingstone on your career. You never worked a day in your life, but now you’ll get to be an integral part in Wonka’s new shipping program. I’ll be sending out tractor-trailers of our famous milk chocolate, and you’ll be part of the new fleet of trucks. Say ‘aah’…” said Charlie as he pushed the silvery valve into Larry’s mouth and then partway down his throat.
Larry gagged and sputtered, but to no avail. Once he had it in as far as it needed to go he pressed Larry’s lips around it with the help of the Oompa Loompas. While Larry was secured like that, Charlie took the spray bottle and quickly but carefully directed a stream of liquid from the can to Larry’s lips and the protruding valve, neatly avoiding anyone’s fingers. They held him for a moment or two longer and then released his head. Larry immediately tried to spit out the valve but found that he was unable to, it seemed it was glued to his lips. His breath snorted and whistled and moaned out of his nostrils, but not a peep escaped his lips.
“Wrack him,” said Charlie, stepping back to watch the show. The Oompa Loompas quickly dragged the visibly sagging union leader onto the flatbed near the end where the portal was. Using stepladders again they forced his head into the small chamber where liquid payloads would be loaded and unloaded. This meant his head was bent forward to stare at the ground about eight feet below, and his feet dangled inches above the floor of the trailer. His head twisted and turned, and you could still hear noises coming from his nose rather than his mouth, but his body, except for his hands and feet, could only twitch rubberishly.
Once his head was secure they brought the trailing lines on his wrists and ankles to the winches at the four corners of the trailer and fed them into the mechanism, there was plenty of slack though, so he still hung impotently, his hands and feet clenching and flexing to no avail. There was a sudden grinding-whirring sound as the winches nearly parallel to his head, the ones attached to his hands, came to life.
At first it was just gradually taking up the slack in the lines, then it started to speed up a bit. Larry’s arms started to rise with the lines and soon were straight out from his body as the last of the slack was taken. Then after a brief pause, and some consternation on the face of Larry, his arms began to stretch. Slowly they lengthened, going from beyond his normal height of a little over six feet, to over seven feet, then eight feet. The winches finally stopped when the manacles attached to Larry’s wrists came into contact with them. His arms, from fingertip to fingertip, were close to nine feet! He hung suspended now not from his neck but his overstretched arms.
This brought some comfort to Larry, but also brought on fresh grunts and moans as he contemplated what was happening to him. Then the winches at the far end of the flat bed started. There was less slack in these lines, so the effect on Larry was almost immediate. His body started quickly rising to a position where he was suspended parallel to the floor of the trailer, and then the winches started pulling harder, judging by the strain of their engines. First his legs, then his midsection and torso, then finally his arms again, all started stretching to meet the mechanical demands of the winches. His entire body was lengthening and stretching, thinning out as he was literally pulled from one end of the trailer to the other, some 35 feet away. Larry’s eyes were screwed shut in discomfort and disbelief as a long keening whistle came out of his flaring nostrils.
Charlie watched with fascination and approval. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but Larry shouldn’t be in real pain from this. He watched intently as slowly but surely Larry was stretched like a rubber band the length of the truck. Other Oompa Loompas were busy also, they had set up cameras from different angles and put a monitor in Larry’s sight so he could see and appreciate all that was happening to him. Eventually the cuffs on Larry’s ankles reached the winches too, and Larry was stretched out more than 35 feet; his body thrummed like a guitar string.
“OK, phase two,” said Charlie. A crane was wheeled next to the flat bed, and chains were attached to the end where Larry’s head was. During the time it took to wheel the crane into place Larry’s stretched out body seemed to visibly sag again as it compensated for this grotesque use of it. Once the cables were in place the crane lifted up, tilting the frame upwards and upwards until Larry was once again fully upright, his torso slumping further toward the ground because of gravity, and his arms stretching even more. Eventually the frame was lifted off the flatbed completely, and it was driven away, to be replaced by a new flatbed truck, this one with a huge metal cylinder standing on the end nearest the tractor pulling it.
Larry’s frame was lifted higher and higher until he was suspended directly over the top of the cylinder, which was open. Then engines were reversed, and Larry began to descend into it, the frames making whispered squeaks as it scraped gently on the tube. Eventually Larry’s rubbery body disappeared from view as the top where his head was secured sunk into the cylinder and sealed the whole thing shut with a hiss. Then there was heard the powerful sound of hydraulics as the cylinder started to be lowered from an upright position to a horizontal one. The whole process took a little over ten minutes, but finally, what to all the world looked like an ordinary liquid cargo truck was produced, complete with the Wonka logo painted on the sides of it in brilliant colors.
If one looked at the back though, they would see a rather ridiculous sight, Larry’s head sticking out of the loading aperture with a silver valve in his mouth, his nostrils huffing and puffing and producing all kinds of noises. The Oompa Loompas flicked a switch on the monitor and the cameras changed their view to the miniature cameras inside the trailer. There you could see Larry’s stretched and thin silver clad body, sagging in his restraints as he became more and more pliable.
“Now then, let’s load up this bad boy!” said Charlie as a hose connecting to a far wall was dragged over to them. A second section of hose was brought forward first though, this one had a small container of perhaps a gallon of clear liquid attached to it, and it was handed up to an Oompa Loompa that was standing on a stepladder near Larry’s head. The attachment of the hose was quickly affixed to the valve aperture jutting from Larry’s mouth.
“This will seal up your innards so that the cargo doesn’t get contaminated while it’s inside you,” Charlie said matter-of-factly. The Oompa Loompa flicked the switch despite the nearly silent entreaties and protests coming from Larry. There was a quick intake of air through Larry’s nose as a gallon of liquid was propelled down his gullet at high speed. Those watching the monitor saw a ripple pass along Larry’s body that traveled al the way to his hips, and briefly run back up towards Larry’s head. Larry’s eyes were screwed shut so he missed it, but Charlie watched with satisfaction and anticipation. The hose was detached as the next one was brought up. It was thick and sturdy as a fire hose, and a steady stream of liquid chocolate was dripping from the end of it.
“It’s too bad you’ll never get to taste this, when our chocolate is still liquid it’s the best in the world. That’s why we ship it like this, it tastes best this way. And just think, it’ll be union drivers delivering it! You made this possible! OK, start pumping,” said Charlie as the hose was attached to the valve.
At the far end of the room at the wall where the hose originated from stood an Oompa Loompa waiting for a signal to turn an ominous looking wheel by the junction to the hose and the wall. Once the hose was attached, he received a wave from the Oompa Loompa on the stepladder, and he turned the wheel with a grunt of effort.
There was enough pressure in the hose to make it the equal of a real fire hose, and all could see that as pressurized liquid chocolate surged through it. Any wrinkles or kinks in the hose were almost instantly smoothed out as the flaccid hose suddenly became rigid and round with the liquid rushing through it. It was agonizing milliseconds for all those watching as the deluge raced from the wall to Larry’s unwilling body. Finally the initial blast forced its way through the narrow valve in Larry’s mouth to his stretched out vessel of a body with amazing results.
The first thing that happened was that Larry’s neck and torso swelled and became rigid with pressure much like the hose did, then a huge wave of liquid chocolate rushed from Larry’s neck all the way to his ankles, a bloated bulge that deformed Larry’s body into nothing remotely human looking. His legs stretched downwards under the immense weight of so much chocolate entering his body so fast, and then rolled forward, pulling his midsection, then torso, down also eventually, so they rested on the rounded floor of the trailer.
There was still a straight line though from his neck to his feet, as the pressure was so intense it was able to keep most of his body horizontal, it was the side of his body facing the floor that was being stretched and bloated by the massive influx of liquid. Larry’s eyes had closed just before the chocolate reached his mouth, but after that initial blast, he had his eyes opened, and couldn’t turn away from the monitors, as he watched with sick fascination the virtual destruction of him, his transformation from truck union representative to truck cargo bay.
As the hose kept pumping, more and more of his body was dragged to the bottom of the truck, where it lay and bloated and swelled. His arms and legs and neck were stretched long as the main portion of his body filled up, like a long sausage, or a clown’s balloon. Even with the intense pressure of the hose though, it would still take awhile for it to pump the thousands of gallons necessary to fill the truck adequately. The chocolate rushed into him, billowing the loose flesh all the way back to his legs, and then pooling into the central portion of Larry’s body, as he continued to get larger.
Soon his arms and legs didn’t seem to be as stretched out, as his body grew both around and in length, the deepest portion of him was probably more than four feet in diameter, and getting wider by the minute. As his body took on more and more chocolate, he steadily began to fill the enormous tank he was secured in. His arms and legs also began to fill with fluid as his body spread, and the liquid sought every last nook and cranny for it be stored. No one said a word; even Larry was quiet except for the huffing and puffing he was doing through his nose.
The tank was more than half filled, and Larry’s body was taking on a more proper shape for a stretchy vessel of liquid. There was nothing more inside the tank that remotely suggested that of a human form, just a growing silvery blob, and at the farthest corners, you might glimpse a futilely struggling hand or foot.
All told it took thirty more minutes to fill the cargo bay completely, and then another ten to bring it to the pressure that was desired. Larry’s face was red and sweating from the strain, but he was holding it all, thousands and thousands of the richest and most delicious chocolate in the world. No one but they knew that he was in there, the cameras no longer functioned; they had been first blocked then crushed by his enormous bulk. The hose was finally turned off, and after a few seconds the last drops were agonizingly pumped in. The hose was detached, and despite his fervent hopes, the valve held, and not a drop escaped him. Another metal framework was being attached around Larry’s protruding head, and he tried to see what was going on.
“Well Larry, that about wraps things up, I have other things to take care of. This little attachment will keep others from seeing just what they’re hooking into when they unload the chocolate. I’ll be using you for a while in this format, get you good and stretched out. After a year or so we’ll have ready the flagship in our new line of supertanker barges! That’s right! We’ll be shipping our liquid chocolate across the ocean that way, should be able to hold about a hundred or more times the amount of chocolate you have in you now.”
Larry’s eyes almost popped out of his head at that as the final seal was closed on the attachment, concealing him from the outside world, he felt the valve shift in his mouth as the aperture was poked through the concealing steel, so that he could be deflated and pumped up again, and again, and again. He heard a grinding sound as the truck was put into motion, and then felt his whole body move like a wave as the truck surged forward toward his destination.
Author's Note: Hi, this is a story I wrote a few years ago (before the new movie). I don't normally write fanfics, I hate the idea that I would probably ruin someone else's work. This has inflation, weight gain and berryification of the extreme variety. Enjoy.
Don’t Mess with Charlie Bucket
by JP
(with a tip of the hat to BTB for his help in retrieving this "oldie")
by JP
(with a tip of the hat to BTB for his help in retrieving this "oldie")
Charlie Bucket looked up from his mountain of paperwork. He’d figured out why he’d been chosen by Willy ten years ago to take over the factory; Charlie was a details oriented person, as well as someone who could appreciate the finer aspects of candy making and invention. He’d been under Slugworth’s tutelage since he joined the Wonka factory, and just two years ago he’d been made CEO in a small private affair.
Under Slugworth he learned all the things necessary to run a major company, and when he’d mastered that, Wonka would teach him the magic of invention and candy making. Slugworth was on a vacation right now, and Wonka was on one of his various sabbaticals to countries that no one had ever heard of. His own parents and grandparents were at various vacations and spas around the world, living off the vast fortune Charlie had access to. All except Grampa Joe; since he didn’t take any of the pills to restore his youth, he had died shortly after Charlie had become CEO. He missed him terribly, but they all respected his decision. Now, though, he had some unpleasant business to attend to, but their conclusions would be most satisfying.
On his desk sat files on four people that had been the principal instigators in recent troubles for the company. That disaster comes in threes wasn’t accurate, for him disaster was a quadruple threat. First was Larry Jackson, a young teamster union negotiator. He was responsible for strikes and intimidation against Wonka and his secret work force of Oompa Loompas. Charlie eventually worked out a shipping arrangement with Larry and the teamsters, but the grief that he’d been given required an appropriate response.
The next was Fauna Moonsilver. Some hippy environmental whack job who claimed that the sky was falling, and that the Chocolate Factory was mostly responsible for it. Her threatened lawsuits and public appearances and boycotts had cost him considerable money and patience. In the end he agreed to give a large donation to her cause as well as provide scientific equipment for their studies.
Third was Monty Shlick, a lawyer that made even Slugworth proud and disgusted at the same time. He was responsible for opening a class action lawsuit against the Factory and several major fast food companies, blaming them for the nation’s obesity problem. The judge threw it out, but the door had been opened, and there were certain to be future lawsuits, unless possibly Shlick was unable to lead the charge.
Finally there was Emma Narter. She was a writer and investigative reporter. She was potentially the most dangerous of them all. She was just starting to write a book, which tried to piece together what really happened to the children that went into the Chocolate Factory, and why they came out so … different. She had managed to get interviews with some of those close to the children, who were now grown up like Charlie.
Wonka thought he was like Teflon, but he wasn’t. That contract they signed with Narter didn’t cover every contingency, and this Emma had found a way to break the silence. There was one person she had almost no reliable information on; ironically this was the one who had broken the contract almost immediately and tried spilling the beans. Once she somehow secured that interview, the Chocolate Factory would be sunk. Charlie had plugged quite a few of the leaks from that first day in the factory more than ten years ago; tonight, though, would be the last leak plugged.
He looked at the monitors above his desk. Around the country right now were special teams of Oompa Loompas. He called them his trash collectors, and they were good at their job. They resisted the urge to sing, they worked in pairs and could effectively make people or things disappear with any number of well-meaning, but crazy, Wonka inventions. Tonight each team was a pair of Loompas, one standing on the shoulders of the other and covered in a trench coat. The one on top had a special camera; they'd finally fixed it and reduced it down in size to be useful, and it could transport things via TV waves. The Loompas were in place, each waiting for their designated target.
Larry was coming out of his girlfriend’s apartment and heading home to his wife when he was approached by a tall man with his hat down and collar up, holding what looked like a camcorder that suddenly flashed.
Fauna was leaving a meeting where she had planned her next protest. Waiting at the door to the coffee shop was a strange man holding a camcorder; she thought she saw a wisp of green hair before there was a brilliant flash.
Monty was entering his apartment after a hard day of gouging companies. The door to the apartment behind him suddenly opened and as he turned he only saw a bright flash.
Emma was at her home, going over the evidence she had gathered regarding the Beauregard family, and how they and so many of their acquaintances had disappeared. One by one, all gone, any that were there at the Factory, plus anyone who may have spoken to them. News stories suppressed, altered or just disappearing. The only thing she heard about was that supposedly there was one investigation into the disappearance of Violet’s long-time gum chewing rival; she disappeared without a trace like the others, and supposedly her bedroom was drenched in blueberry juice.
She had heard quiet and unsubstantiated rumors that others had vanished under similar circumstances. No valid sources could confirm it though, and she received little cooperation from anyone. It all pointed to something nasty going on in the Chocolate Factory. Her doorbell rang and she went to it and looked through the peephole. She was very surprised when she saw a leering orange-faced, green-haired man staring back at her. She was even more surprised when she heard the mail slot near her knees open up followed by a brilliant flash.
All of the Oompa Loompas in the field reported their success, and Charlie told them to come back to the Factory. Each pair then put the first camera away and pulled out a second one. The second one they placed on the ground near them and set the timer, then hurriedly got into place in front of its field of view. A few seconds later a flash went off and the pairs were gone, transported back to the Factory on TV waves. The camera was the disposable variety, and only had the power for one shot before it began to disintegrate. Four troublemakers were about to learn that when you kicked this Bucket, you got kicked back.
Charlie took the Glass Elevator to the TV room where all had been assembled. Once there he saw the four pairs of Oompa Loompas exiting an enormous TV screen, the size of an entire wall. They were normal sized (for Oompa Loompas) and were shedding their disguises and putting back on their normal attire.
Wonka was so impractical at times. He was willing to spend millions developing some kind of new and special TV to allow things transmitted by the camera to come back in their normal size. It was Charlie who pointed out that if they used a bigger TV it would probably do the trick, and he was right. It was far too big (about the size of a movie theater screen) to be practical for home use, but was invaluable for jobs such as these.
The targets for tonight were not normal sized, though; they had been projected to a normal size TV using different wavelengths. They were all gathered on a table where their TV had been before some Oompa Loompas had removed it. They were perhaps six inches tall apiece and were quite confused at the moment. Each of them knew the other in a roundabout way, due to their respective actions against Charlie but none had an idea of how they got here, what had happened to them, and what was in store for them. They all quaked in fear as the giant Charlie loomed into view. They wanted to run but didn’t dare, as the table was so high (to them) they would probably get killed if they fell off it.
Charlie loved moments like these, just as Willy Wonka himself did. He saw them all huddling together, squeaking impotently in fear as he approached; they had no idea what he had in store for them but they all deserved it very richly. The table came up to his waist only, and he towered above his shrunken persecutors. Oompa Loompas gathered around quietly, waiting for his orders. Unlike Wonka, Charlie hated their singing, and forbade them from doing it in his presence.
“Well, well,” said Charlie, knowing his voice must sound like he was using a megaphone to their tiny ears. “Four naughty little people, trying to end the Chocolate Factory. Trying to destroy a man whose only desire is to bring sweetness to people in such a bitter world. Trying to put the Candyman out of business. Shame, shame, shame. Well…” Charlie paused and leaned forward, directing his ear at the diminutive people. “Yes?”
“What are you going to do to us?!” squeaked Emma. Of all those here, she probably knew the most of what Charlie and Willy Wonka could do to a person.
“Well, now, that would be telling. Let’s leave it at this - I’ve got a special treat for all of you. Now then, let’s get started. Hmmm…we’ll start with you, Larry,” said Charlie as he reached his hand toward them.
Larry broke and ran from the rest as Charlie’s enormous hand loomed over him. It was no use though; Larry was easily cornered and picked up by Charlie. He handed him to a waiting Oompa Loompa, who gingerly held him in both hands.
“Transport him to the loading bay, and bring him back to normal size, give him the Taffy treatment, and dress him accordingly. I’ll be there in just a bit.”
He then turned to Fauna. “You’re next Chicken Little,” he said as he reached down for her. She clung to Monty Schlick, who was desperately trying to pry her off of him, but Charlie had no problem separating them, and handing her to the next waiting Oompa Loompa.
“Bring her to the green house, and give her the Taffy treatment also. Don’t put her back to normal size though, and put her in that outfit I had laid out.” The Oompa Loompa took her away, her protesting shrieks fading as he walked out of the room.
“Now, let’s see, who’s next. The muckraker or the bottom feeder? I think I’ll go with the bottom feeder. You do know the difference between lawyers and bottom feeders don’t you Monty? Bottom feeders don’t eat their young. C’mere now. That’s it,” said Charlie.
He needed to use both hands to catch him, one to corral him to a corner, and the other to pick him up. He was wriggling like crazy, but there was no way he’d squirm out of Charlie’s hands. He handed him to another Oompa Loompa.
“Take him to the storage area next to the Candyland. Give him a dose of the new candy we developed, and put the receiver in him. Oh, and bring him back to normal size also.” The Oompa Loompa nodded and walked off, cupping his hands over the lawyer to make sure he didn’t get away.
“And last, but certainly not least, Emma. Emma, Emma, Emma. The truth, unfortunately, will not set you free. No, the truth is definitely not your friend here. Digging up dirt on me and Willy, trying to expose our organization. You kept looking, kept trying to figure out what happened to Violet, what happened to her friends, her family. You’re soon going to find out.”
He reached down and picked her up easily; she seemed resigned to her fate. An Oompa Loompa was ready and waiting for his instructions. “Bring her back to normal size, and take her to the juicing room.”
The Oompa Loompa nodded and carried her off. Charlie smiled and rubbed his hands as he headed for the Glass Elevator.
The trip to the loading area was brief, thanks to how fast the Elevator was. The loading bay was typically the closest area of the Factory to the outside world. Assembled there were a small troop of Oompa Loompas, holding various lines attached to Larry. Larry was a young black man, in his early thirties. The position of Union negotiator for the teamsters was his steppingstone for what he hoped would be a brilliant political career.
Larry Jackson saw potential for the Presidency in himself, but Charlie was about to bring those dreams to an abrupt end. He was back to normal size and dressed in a form fitting one-piece silver outfit that covered everything but his head and neck, his hands and feet. This outfit was soaked in his special Taffy treatment chemical, and was right now changing the resilience and elasticity of Larry’s body. It was a gradual process; as long as he was in it his body would become more and more pliant and stretchy. It also made the muscles weak and soft. His struggles were ineffectual and weakening already as what looked like a flatbed truck was backed up to where they were. On top of the flatbed seemed to be some kind of strange steel framework that extended the length of the trailer. At the corners of the framework were powered winches and at the center of the back of the trailer was what looked to be the tail end of a chemical trailer, complete with a port to load and unload its cargo.
“You won’t get away with this, Bucket, whatever it is you’re going to do!” shouted Larry; his struggles were changing from trying to escape, to merely trying to stand on his own power. His limbs seemed to be melting, becoming flabby and sagging.
“I wonder if Hoffa said the same thing,” chuckled Charlie. An Oompa Loompa came forward holding a silvery looking valve in one hand and a spray bottle with a thin straw attached to the nozzle in the other hand. Charlie took the valve and approached Larry. Meanwhile an Oompa Loompa stood to either side of Larry on stepladders, and they grabbed his head and held it securely, forcing open his mouth.
“I’ve heard enough of your garbage to last a lifetime. All your talk of brotherhood, all your talk of caring about workers, all of your lies. You never cared about them, about the people you were going to be putting out of work. It was all about getting more dues, and using me as a steppingstone on your career. You never worked a day in your life, but now you’ll get to be an integral part in Wonka’s new shipping program. I’ll be sending out tractor-trailers of our famous milk chocolate, and you’ll be part of the new fleet of trucks. Say ‘aah’…” said Charlie as he pushed the silvery valve into Larry’s mouth and then partway down his throat.
Larry gagged and sputtered, but to no avail. Once he had it in as far as it needed to go he pressed Larry’s lips around it with the help of the Oompa Loompas. While Larry was secured like that, Charlie took the spray bottle and quickly but carefully directed a stream of liquid from the can to Larry’s lips and the protruding valve, neatly avoiding anyone’s fingers. They held him for a moment or two longer and then released his head. Larry immediately tried to spit out the valve but found that he was unable to, it seemed it was glued to his lips. His breath snorted and whistled and moaned out of his nostrils, but not a peep escaped his lips.
“Wrack him,” said Charlie, stepping back to watch the show. The Oompa Loompas quickly dragged the visibly sagging union leader onto the flatbed near the end where the portal was. Using stepladders again they forced his head into the small chamber where liquid payloads would be loaded and unloaded. This meant his head was bent forward to stare at the ground about eight feet below, and his feet dangled inches above the floor of the trailer. His head twisted and turned, and you could still hear noises coming from his nose rather than his mouth, but his body, except for his hands and feet, could only twitch rubberishly.
Once his head was secure they brought the trailing lines on his wrists and ankles to the winches at the four corners of the trailer and fed them into the mechanism, there was plenty of slack though, so he still hung impotently, his hands and feet clenching and flexing to no avail. There was a sudden grinding-whirring sound as the winches nearly parallel to his head, the ones attached to his hands, came to life.
At first it was just gradually taking up the slack in the lines, then it started to speed up a bit. Larry’s arms started to rise with the lines and soon were straight out from his body as the last of the slack was taken. Then after a brief pause, and some consternation on the face of Larry, his arms began to stretch. Slowly they lengthened, going from beyond his normal height of a little over six feet, to over seven feet, then eight feet. The winches finally stopped when the manacles attached to Larry’s wrists came into contact with them. His arms, from fingertip to fingertip, were close to nine feet! He hung suspended now not from his neck but his overstretched arms.
This brought some comfort to Larry, but also brought on fresh grunts and moans as he contemplated what was happening to him. Then the winches at the far end of the flat bed started. There was less slack in these lines, so the effect on Larry was almost immediate. His body started quickly rising to a position where he was suspended parallel to the floor of the trailer, and then the winches started pulling harder, judging by the strain of their engines. First his legs, then his midsection and torso, then finally his arms again, all started stretching to meet the mechanical demands of the winches. His entire body was lengthening and stretching, thinning out as he was literally pulled from one end of the trailer to the other, some 35 feet away. Larry’s eyes were screwed shut in discomfort and disbelief as a long keening whistle came out of his flaring nostrils.
Charlie watched with fascination and approval. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but Larry shouldn’t be in real pain from this. He watched intently as slowly but surely Larry was stretched like a rubber band the length of the truck. Other Oompa Loompas were busy also, they had set up cameras from different angles and put a monitor in Larry’s sight so he could see and appreciate all that was happening to him. Eventually the cuffs on Larry’s ankles reached the winches too, and Larry was stretched out more than 35 feet; his body thrummed like a guitar string.
“OK, phase two,” said Charlie. A crane was wheeled next to the flat bed, and chains were attached to the end where Larry’s head was. During the time it took to wheel the crane into place Larry’s stretched out body seemed to visibly sag again as it compensated for this grotesque use of it. Once the cables were in place the crane lifted up, tilting the frame upwards and upwards until Larry was once again fully upright, his torso slumping further toward the ground because of gravity, and his arms stretching even more. Eventually the frame was lifted off the flatbed completely, and it was driven away, to be replaced by a new flatbed truck, this one with a huge metal cylinder standing on the end nearest the tractor pulling it.
Larry’s frame was lifted higher and higher until he was suspended directly over the top of the cylinder, which was open. Then engines were reversed, and Larry began to descend into it, the frames making whispered squeaks as it scraped gently on the tube. Eventually Larry’s rubbery body disappeared from view as the top where his head was secured sunk into the cylinder and sealed the whole thing shut with a hiss. Then there was heard the powerful sound of hydraulics as the cylinder started to be lowered from an upright position to a horizontal one. The whole process took a little over ten minutes, but finally, what to all the world looked like an ordinary liquid cargo truck was produced, complete with the Wonka logo painted on the sides of it in brilliant colors.
If one looked at the back though, they would see a rather ridiculous sight, Larry’s head sticking out of the loading aperture with a silver valve in his mouth, his nostrils huffing and puffing and producing all kinds of noises. The Oompa Loompas flicked a switch on the monitor and the cameras changed their view to the miniature cameras inside the trailer. There you could see Larry’s stretched and thin silver clad body, sagging in his restraints as he became more and more pliable.
“Now then, let’s load up this bad boy!” said Charlie as a hose connecting to a far wall was dragged over to them. A second section of hose was brought forward first though, this one had a small container of perhaps a gallon of clear liquid attached to it, and it was handed up to an Oompa Loompa that was standing on a stepladder near Larry’s head. The attachment of the hose was quickly affixed to the valve aperture jutting from Larry’s mouth.
“This will seal up your innards so that the cargo doesn’t get contaminated while it’s inside you,” Charlie said matter-of-factly. The Oompa Loompa flicked the switch despite the nearly silent entreaties and protests coming from Larry. There was a quick intake of air through Larry’s nose as a gallon of liquid was propelled down his gullet at high speed. Those watching the monitor saw a ripple pass along Larry’s body that traveled al the way to his hips, and briefly run back up towards Larry’s head. Larry’s eyes were screwed shut so he missed it, but Charlie watched with satisfaction and anticipation. The hose was detached as the next one was brought up. It was thick and sturdy as a fire hose, and a steady stream of liquid chocolate was dripping from the end of it.
“It’s too bad you’ll never get to taste this, when our chocolate is still liquid it’s the best in the world. That’s why we ship it like this, it tastes best this way. And just think, it’ll be union drivers delivering it! You made this possible! OK, start pumping,” said Charlie as the hose was attached to the valve.
At the far end of the room at the wall where the hose originated from stood an Oompa Loompa waiting for a signal to turn an ominous looking wheel by the junction to the hose and the wall. Once the hose was attached, he received a wave from the Oompa Loompa on the stepladder, and he turned the wheel with a grunt of effort.
There was enough pressure in the hose to make it the equal of a real fire hose, and all could see that as pressurized liquid chocolate surged through it. Any wrinkles or kinks in the hose were almost instantly smoothed out as the flaccid hose suddenly became rigid and round with the liquid rushing through it. It was agonizing milliseconds for all those watching as the deluge raced from the wall to Larry’s unwilling body. Finally the initial blast forced its way through the narrow valve in Larry’s mouth to his stretched out vessel of a body with amazing results.
The first thing that happened was that Larry’s neck and torso swelled and became rigid with pressure much like the hose did, then a huge wave of liquid chocolate rushed from Larry’s neck all the way to his ankles, a bloated bulge that deformed Larry’s body into nothing remotely human looking. His legs stretched downwards under the immense weight of so much chocolate entering his body so fast, and then rolled forward, pulling his midsection, then torso, down also eventually, so they rested on the rounded floor of the trailer.
There was still a straight line though from his neck to his feet, as the pressure was so intense it was able to keep most of his body horizontal, it was the side of his body facing the floor that was being stretched and bloated by the massive influx of liquid. Larry’s eyes had closed just before the chocolate reached his mouth, but after that initial blast, he had his eyes opened, and couldn’t turn away from the monitors, as he watched with sick fascination the virtual destruction of him, his transformation from truck union representative to truck cargo bay.
As the hose kept pumping, more and more of his body was dragged to the bottom of the truck, where it lay and bloated and swelled. His arms and legs and neck were stretched long as the main portion of his body filled up, like a long sausage, or a clown’s balloon. Even with the intense pressure of the hose though, it would still take awhile for it to pump the thousands of gallons necessary to fill the truck adequately. The chocolate rushed into him, billowing the loose flesh all the way back to his legs, and then pooling into the central portion of Larry’s body, as he continued to get larger.
Soon his arms and legs didn’t seem to be as stretched out, as his body grew both around and in length, the deepest portion of him was probably more than four feet in diameter, and getting wider by the minute. As his body took on more and more chocolate, he steadily began to fill the enormous tank he was secured in. His arms and legs also began to fill with fluid as his body spread, and the liquid sought every last nook and cranny for it be stored. No one said a word; even Larry was quiet except for the huffing and puffing he was doing through his nose.
The tank was more than half filled, and Larry’s body was taking on a more proper shape for a stretchy vessel of liquid. There was nothing more inside the tank that remotely suggested that of a human form, just a growing silvery blob, and at the farthest corners, you might glimpse a futilely struggling hand or foot.
All told it took thirty more minutes to fill the cargo bay completely, and then another ten to bring it to the pressure that was desired. Larry’s face was red and sweating from the strain, but he was holding it all, thousands and thousands of the richest and most delicious chocolate in the world. No one but they knew that he was in there, the cameras no longer functioned; they had been first blocked then crushed by his enormous bulk. The hose was finally turned off, and after a few seconds the last drops were agonizingly pumped in. The hose was detached, and despite his fervent hopes, the valve held, and not a drop escaped him. Another metal framework was being attached around Larry’s protruding head, and he tried to see what was going on.
“Well Larry, that about wraps things up, I have other things to take care of. This little attachment will keep others from seeing just what they’re hooking into when they unload the chocolate. I’ll be using you for a while in this format, get you good and stretched out. After a year or so we’ll have ready the flagship in our new line of supertanker barges! That’s right! We’ll be shipping our liquid chocolate across the ocean that way, should be able to hold about a hundred or more times the amount of chocolate you have in you now.”
Larry’s eyes almost popped out of his head at that as the final seal was closed on the attachment, concealing him from the outside world, he felt the valve shift in his mouth as the aperture was poked through the concealing steel, so that he could be deflated and pumped up again, and again, and again. He heard a grinding sound as the truck was put into motion, and then felt his whole body move like a wave as the truck surged forward toward his destination.
