Wilbur Wonka was incessantly pacing and straightening his parlor. Today, he thought, was going to be a very busy day. He had agreed to be the dentist for the students at the large international boarding school in town, Oscar Jarvis Academy, and a great number of them would be coming in for their first appointments today.

Normally, he wouldn't have agreed to such a proposition – he didn't need those nasty little brats and their cavity-infested mouths coming in and influencing his young son – but the dean of Oscar Jarvis Academy had offered him a very handsome sum, and Dr. Wonka would have been a fool to refuse.

Nevertheless, he had ordered his son to stay upstairs. He knew that the sight of those rotten little sugar-mongers' mouths would not be a pleasant one.

William Wonka, at the tender age of ten years old, however, only grew more curious. What, he thought, could possibly be so horrible about it? He crept quietly down the stairs and stuffed himself into a cupboard as the first few children came into the office, and stared out through a crack in the door.

These children were unlike any of the other children little William had seen around town. They were all dressed in impeccably crisp uniforms. Also, looking at their faces, William was fascinated by the differences he beheld – it seemed as though they had come from all over the world.

William heard his father call out a name, and then a boy in the room cursed under his breath, sighing and striding gloomily over the dentist chair.

The process repeated itself over and over again. Dr. Wonka would call out a name, and William would hear him click his tongue in all-too-familiar disapproval. For most of the children, Dr. Wonka had needed to drill out quite a few cavities, and little William pitied the poor children. One boy, Ernest Walcott, had tried to run away when the drill was switched on, and was only persuaded back to the dentist chair when one of the teachers who had accompanied the students bribed him with the offer of more candy later.

William was starting to grow bored and was considering just going back up to his room when his father cleared his throat and called out another name.

"Alyssa Cabot?"

"Oh, that's me!" said one girl, who had been in a conversation with her friends at the time. She excused herself, and got up, not looking even half as frightened as the other children.

William gawked. His tiny ten-year-old heart kathumped in his chest, and it was quite obvious that he fancied this Alyssa Cabot. She was a rather small girl whose long dark hair, which she kept in a long, neat plait, offset her very light skin.

She hopped up into the dentist chair – with, admittedly, a bit of difficulty, considering her small size — and opened wide. Only…

William did not hear his father click his tongue in disapproval. Instead, Wilbur Wonka gave an astonished "Hmm," and nodded his head.

"You're teeth are quite near immaculate, my dear girl," he said, allowing her to close her mouth. She grinned.

"Thank you, Dr. Wonka," she said, seeming genuinely complimented. "My parents are dentists too – back in America." She hopped off of the chair and capered back into the parlor. The first thing she did was scurry up to the teacher. "May I take off my sweater?" she said.

"I'm sure that would be fine," the woman nodded. "Just until we have to leave, though. Ask Dr. Wonka if you may put it in his closet."

Alyssa scurried back to Dr. Wonka, asked permission, then walked over to the closet. She threw open the door and squealed loudly as William, who had been leaning against it, came tumbling out.

"Um, Dr. Wonka…" she said hesitantly, "There's a boy in your closet!"