[Due to the 15 document limit, this is being posted all in one chunk.]

Factory Tour

"Hey, Seto, look at this!"

The head of Kaiba Corp glanced up briefly from his computer. The evening news anchor was speaking with more than her usual animation.

". . . factory that no one has been inside for ten years–that's right, ten whole years! And the five lucky children who find these golden tickets will get to see it! The factory of legendary candy maker Willy Wonka, genius of chocolate and all things sweet, which has been working completely in secret for the last ten years, will be open to five and only five children! They're out there right now, unaware of the marvelous surprise awaiting them when they open a Wonka bar and discover that golden lining! I can only wonder when the first . . ."

Blue eyes narrowed for a moment, then returned to the computer screen.

"What do you think, Seto?" Mokuba asked.

"It's obviously a marketing ploy," his brother said dismissively. "He's counting on the hype generated by these tickets to sell an enormous amount of candy. And he probably will."

"It looks like it," Mokuba agreed, watching the shots of eager children rushing into candy stores across the world. "Wow. He's really started something!"

"Exhibitionist advertising schemes like that are for people who don't make a product good enough to sell on it's own."

"Didn't you do something like that with your Duel Disk system?"

Seto Kaiba looked up with a flash of annoyance. "What are you talking about?"

"The Battle City Tournament. Everyone had to buy a Duel Disk system to enter."

"That's true. However, we were in production three months before the tournament and consequently we never ran out of Duel Disks. Anyone who wanted could buy one and enter. If we'd only made five to begin with, that would be like this scheme." The older boy snorted dismissively, "The products we make don't need that kind of lame hype."

Mokuba smiled up at him. "That's right! We make the best Duel Monsters accessories and virtual gaming systems in the world!"

"We certainly do." Kaiba nodded in approval and went back to his code.

The evening news provided background noise for several minutes.

"Still," Mokuba said in a thoughtful tone, "It would be neat to see a factory like that. One that no one's seen in ten years. Who do you suppose runs all the equipment?"

"I haven't the least idea."

"I wonder what it's like inside a chocolate factory?" the younger boy added, half to himself.

Seto Kaiba's desk and office vanished for a moment, giving way to a small, run-down playground at an inner-city orphanage.

"Hey," a much younger Mokuba said, pointing at the sand box where they'd been building an amusement park, "Could we put a candy store in?"

"Sure! In fact, we could build a whole candy factory! I'm sure people would love to see how candy is really made!"

"Wow! That would be so awesome!" Mokuba began scraping sand together to form a building, "I wonder what it's like inside a candy factory?"

"I don't know, Mokie, but someday we'll find out!"

Much older, much colder blue eyes turned back to the boy sitting on the arm of the couch, watching the plasma screen with fascination. Kaiba opened a new terminal window and began to type. All right, Mokuba. Let's find out.

The next morning, the news channels were buzzing with the story of the first lucky winner.

"I am eating the Wonka bar and I taste something, that is not chocolate, or coconut, or walnut, or peanut butter, or nougat, or butter brittle, or caramel, or sprinkles. So I look and, I find the golden ticket."

"He really needs to lose weight," Mokuba said, watching the screen mounted in the back of the co-pilot's seat. "How did his parents let him get like that?"

"Obviously they never bothered to hold him to any sort of standard." Kaiba watched the downtown buildings passing below the helicopter, "If you don't push yourself, you'll never amount to anything. That's the first lesson I learned, the one that's gotten us where we are today."

"Soon as my little Veruca told me she had to have one of these golden tickets, I started buying up all the Wonka bars I could lay my hands on. Thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands. I'm in the nut business, you see. So I say to my workers, 'Morning, ladies. From now on you can stop shelling peanuts and start shelling the wrappers off these chocolate bars instead.' Three days went by and we had no luck. Oh, it was terrible. My little Veruca got more and more upset each day. Well, gentlemen, I just hated to see my little girl feeling unhappy like that. I vowed I would keep up the search until I could give her what she wanted. And finally, I found her a ticket."

Mokuba studied the smiling girl on the TV, his eyes thoughtful.

"They didn't play the game like it's supposed to be played," he said. "The kids are supposed to find the tickets themselves."

"She's just another spoiled brat like Noah, who's been handed everything on a silver platter. Her father will soon find out that by spoiling her, he's made her good for nothing."

"These are just some of the two hundred and sixty-three trophies and medals my Violet has won."

"I'm a gum chewer, mostly," said the hard-eyed, blond-haired girl, "But when I heard about these ticket things I laid off the gum, switched to candy bars."

"She's just a driven young woman. I don't know where she gets it."

"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," said her mother, gesturing to the trophy-laden wall and shelves behind them, "Mostly baton."

"So it says that one kid's gonna get this special prize, better than all the rest. I don't care who those other four are. That kid, it's gonna be me."

The head of Kaiba Corp glanced over at the TV feed in one corner of the laboratory/workshop. Mokuba was glued to the screen.

"Tell them why, Violet."

"Because I'm a winner."

"Woah," said the younger boy, "She's really serious about this."

"She may be serious, but she's making a big mistake. You can't afford to discount your opponents unless you understand them first. You've dueled enough to know that, Mokuba."

"I guess so. But you don't take any of your opponents seriously, either–except Yugi."

Kaiba's eyes narrowed at the name. "That's because he's the only duelist I've ever faced who has anywhere near my skill. I never go into a match without studying my opponent's style and cards, and watching tapes of their previous duels. When I enter a duel, I don't have to worry about whether or not my opponent is going to surprise me–I already know they can't defeat me. That girl's just an overconfident fool."

Kaiba checked his program and gave a small smirk of satisfaction. The advantage of worldwide shipping was that it had to follow certain procedures and as such was easily subject to computer-modeling. The results were rated at ninety-eight percent probable accuracy and the logistics lined up perfectly with the data from the last three tickets. In addition, simulating the shop's recent Wonka Bar sales had been child's play given the population data and traffic patterns for the neighborhood. He closed his laptop and stood up.

"I have to go meet with the programming engineer at our research and design lab. Do you want to come?"

"Sure. What are you working on?"

"We're improving the virtual world to respond more quickly and smoothly to unexpected user input."

"I thought it was responding pretty well," said Mokuba, "At least, there haven't been any major glitches reported from the installation at Kaiba Land."

"It responds acceptably. But it could respond better."

"Oh. Okay." Mokuba pulled his jacket on and hurried to catch up with his brother.

A helicopter took them to the lab, where Kaiba spent exactly seventy-two minutes in conference with the head software engineer. Then he decided to walk a few blocks to one of their arcades to check on the customers' response to the latest level they'd released for the console-based Duel Monsters game.

"It's been kind of quiet lately," Mokuba commented as they walked. "I wonder where Yugi and Joey and the others are?"

Kaiba snorted. "I understand they went to India for some reason."

"India? Why would they go there?"

"Apparently Joey took a break from his losing streak and won tickets in some random contest. I wonder if they even realize they're missing their midterms."

"They missed school a lot, didn't they?"

"They were hardly in class at all. Typical that they couldn't even handle amateur dueling and school at the same time. I was running an entire corporation, maintaining my title as champion duelist, and developing my virtual world while I was in school. And at the top of the class by a large margin, I might add."

Mokuba noted his brother's scowl and said nothing. Seto had never really forgiven Yugi Moto for taking the champion title from him and still nursed an obsession with defeating the spiky-haired duelist, which his later defeats at Yugi's hands had only fueled. He respects Yugi as a skilled duelist, but he can't get over the idea of someone being better than him at something he loves so much. He's always got to be the best.

"The arcade won't open for another ten minutes," his brother said. "Do you want something while we're waiting?"

"Huh?" Mokuba looked up at him.

"You didn't eat much at breakfast this morning."

"I wasn't really hungry," Mokuba said. And I'm just so excited to see who the next winner will be.

"Well I can't have you passing out on me before lunch." Kaiba looked around, "There's a candy store over there. Do you want one of those Wonka bars since they're so popular right now?"

The older boy's tone was derogatory, but Mokuba had learned to ignore that. Seto had become so hardened in dealing with the business world that it was rare for him to use a tone that wasn't either cold or demeaning.

"Well, it would be fun to say I'd tried one," he admitted. "And who knows? I might even find a ticket!" Mokuba laughed deprecatingly.

"If you really want to waste money on that lottery, I guess you've got an equal chance, just like everyone else. Here, go get yourself a candy bar, then. I'll be at the arcade."

"Thanks, Seto!" Mokuba took the bills and ran over to the store.

Kaiba watched him go, then looked up at the sky. It's up to you, now, Mokuba. I've gotten you this close–if you really want a ticket that badly, prove it by finding this one.

Mokuba wormed his way into the store, which was already packed with people. The assistants were bringing out more boxes of Wonka bars for the morning restocking and voices were clamoring for ten, twenty, or fifty bars.

He's really created a phenomenon. I've never seen anything like this. Mokuba stood still for a moment, closing his eyes. I've always wanted to see a candy factory. I thought Seto might build one like he used to tell me back when we were little, but then Duel Monsters came out and he's never been interested in anything else since. He doesn't even really care about Kaiba Land, it's just another project. But I care. And I want to see what Willy Wonka's factory is like.

"Praying you'll get a ticket?" said a voice beside him.

"Huh?" Mokuba opened his eyes to see a narrow-eyed boy with an armful of candy bars.

"That won't help. It's all in how many you buy. That's the only way to win."

"That's like saying all it takes to win a duel is more monsters."

"Don't tell me your one of those idiots who believes in that Heart of the Cards nonsense. I've tried trusting my luck and I still lost! Stupid." The boy pushed his way out of the store.

Mokuba turned back to the rapidly-diminishing boxes of candy. It is kind of like dueling, he thought. I just have to draw a candy bar and see what happens. Only it's not like my deck, which I built and I know. It's like dueling with some random cards I've never seen. I wonder what Seto would do?

The younger boy straightened his shoulders. He'd draw a card and trust his skill to be able to play it. That's what I'll do. He walked over and got into line.

When he finally got to the front, there were only a few bars left.

"How many?" the assistant asked.

"One, please."

"One? One what, one dozen?"

"No, just one." Mokuba looked down–which one should I choose? He closed his eyes and reached into the box. Help me draw, Big Brother.

He felt his fingers touch two bars, then Mokuba caught his breath. For a split second, the bar on the right had the intangible aura of a powerful duel monsters card. I know that feeling–it's like one of Seto's Blue Eyes White Dragons! His hand closed on the right hand bar and he picked it up.

"I want this one, please."

"Sure thing. Good luck, kid." The assistant gave him his change and turned his attention to the next customer.

Mokuba squirmed his way back out of the shop and looked down at the candy bar in his hand. The odd feeling was gone, but he was certain it had happened for that moment. Whether this bar has a ticket or not, it's definitely the one I'm meant to have. And even though I can get candy delivered any time I want, it's been forever since Seto bought me a candy bar himself like that. I thought he'd forgotten I like chocolate.

Several other kids were standing around, opening the stacks of bars they'd bought. I might as well open it now. That way, even if I don't win, I won't be any worse off than they are. He peeled back a corner of the paper.

"He found one! He found one!" a girl screamed, jumping up and down and pointing at Mokuba, who was standing with stunned expression, holding a half-unwrapped candy bar and a Golden Ticket.

"Let me see!"

"That's so awesome!"

"Can I touch it?"

"You're gonna be on TV!"

"What does it say?"

"I can't believe it–he only bought one bar!"

"Hey, what's your name?"

"You get to go to Willy Wonka's factory!"

When Mokuba finally squeezed his way out of the rapidly growing crowd, he was pounced on by an out-of-breath news crew.

"Congratulations, little boy! What's your name?"

"Uh, Mokuba. Mokuba Kaiba."

"Hey, I thought you looked familiar! You're the younger brother of Seto Kaiba of Kaiba Corp, aren't you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Well this is a proud day for Domino City, Mokuba! Tell us how you feel about finding the fourth Golden Ticket!"

"I–I'm really happy about it." Mokuba felt at a loss; Seto always handled the press conferences.

"Tell us how many candy bars you've been through. With Seto Kaiba as your brother, I bet it's a lot!"

"Actually this is my first. Seto wouldn't approve of wasting money on hundreds of candy bars I wouldn't eat just to get a ticket. He said if I wanted to try, I had an equal chance just like everyone else."

"And you found one! You're making us proud, Mokuba Kaiba. Just like your brother Seto Kaiba, the head of Kaiba Corp, the largest game company in the world! I can see both Kaiba brothers are destined to make history!"

"My brother runs a giant corporation by himself and develops his own hardware and software," Mokuba protested angrily, "And he's a champion duelist! All I did was find a ticket. It could have happened to anyone."

"Well," Grandpa George said irritably, "It's nice to see one child who thinks in perspective!"

Seto Kaiba allowed himself a little smile as he watched the TV feed on the giant arcade screen. Well done, Mokuba. Of course, people will always say I arranged things for you to find that ticket, but you've made it much harder for them to make that stick. I can't have my reputation as a duelist compromised by being considered a cheater.

He turned and headed back to the manager's office. However, if Willy Wonka isn't smart enough not to leave obvious clues in his shipping methods, it's hardly my fault for noticing them. Anyone smart enough to figure it out could have done what I did, and narrowed it down to the box or even the individual bar.

Somewhere in America, a boy named Mike shouted death threats against the Armed Ninja who had just killed his Cyber Commando. His parents just shook their heads; ever since Kaiba Corp had come out with their Duel Monsters video games, Mike hadn't left the living room.

"Greetings to you, the lucky finder of this golden ticket," Mokuba read, "From Mr. Willy Wonka. I shake you warmly by the hand. For now, I do invite you to come to my factory and be my guest for one whole day. I, Willy Wonka, will conduct you around the factory myself, showing you everything there is to see. Afterwards, when it is time to leave, you will be escorted home by a procession of large trucks, each filled with all the chocolate you could ever eat. And remember, one of you lucky five children will receive an extra prize beyond your wildest imagination. Now, here are your instructions. On the first of February, you must come to the factory gates at ten A.M. sharp. You're allowed to bring one member of your family to look after you. Until then, Willy Wonka."

"Hm. That's in two days." Seto looked out the window for a moment. "Well, I suppose you really want to go."

"Come on, Seto. It's just one day, and I've always wanted to tour a candy factory."

"I never said you couldn't go."

"Aren't you coming with me? You have to! It says we can bring one member of our family–and you're the only family I have."

"All right, all right, if that's what you want, I'll come with you."

Mokuba laughed happily and threw his arms around his brother's waist. "Thank you, Big Brother."

Kaiba put a hand on his brother's head, his eyes softening for a moment.

"Seto!" Mokuba came running out to the jet, panting. "A boy in Russia just found the last ticket!"

"Oh really."

"Yeah. So that's all five! I was starting to wonder if the last one was going to be found in time."

"It would be quite amusing if it wasn't. Imagine sending out just five tickets like that and having one lost."

"That would be kind of sad, actually. I mean, one of only five chances in the world and someone losing it."

"Whatever. Get strapped in, Mokuba. We're ready to leave."

"Right!"

Clouds streamed past as the jet sped through the air.

"Here, Big Brother." Mokuba broke off a square of chocolate and handed it up to his brother.

"Is that still from your winning bar?"

"Yeah. I was too excited to eat any at the time. Besides, it tastes better if you share it."

Seto snorted, but only out of habit. Mokuba studied the golden ticket for the hundredth time. What would Willy Wonka be like? He'd been the premier chocolate manufacturer in the world, built the biggest chocolate factory in the world, and invented more types of candy than any other candy maker to date. But competitors had kept stealing his secrets until he finally closed his factory. Then, some years later, the factory had started producing and shipping candy again, but apparently with no workers because the gates stayed locked and no one was seen to enter or leave.

"Seto?"

"What?"

"Who do you suppose does the work in Willy Wonka's factory? If he hasn't let any workers back in since they kept stealing his secrets, how does he produce so much candy? Do you think the whole factory's automated?"

"It's possible. Quality control would be a big problem without any human supervision. However, if his factory is completely automated, I hope he has an independent network with no connections to the internet."

"Why is that?"

"Because someone really determined could hack in and steal not only his recipes, but the design of his machinery and his whole manufacturing process as well. And that would just be sad, given the lengths he's gone to to protect it."

They stopped to fuel the jet at one of Kaiba Corp's blimps. Seto put the jet down easily on the landing pad on top and went inside to check on several of his projects while the jet was refueled. Mokuba ran to the kitchen to get them lunch.

"I can't believe the nerve of those people, Mr. Mokuba," the cook commented, "Faking a ticket like that."

"Huh?"

"The ticket found in Russia was a fake–someone forged it, hoping the real ticket wouldn't be found until it was too late."

"Then the real fifth ticket is still out there?"

"No, it was just found by a boy named Charlie Bucket. In Willy Wonka's home town, believe it or not."

"I guess that makes sense. If he's sent the other tickets all over the world, he ought to have given a chance to a kid from his own town."

"He certainly knows his candy, that man. Here you are, two lunches to go."

"I guess so. Well, thanks for fixing us lunch!"

"Have a good time, Mr. Mokuba."

"Thanks!"

Mokuba ran back up the steps to the landing pad, where Seto was watching the flight crew check the jet.

"Big Brother, you'll never guess what!"

"What is it?"

"The Russian ticket was a fake! A boy named Charlie just found the real one in Willy Wonka's home town, where we're going."

"Hm." The head of Kaiba Corp smiled sardonically. "Only an idiot would try to fake something that's going to be scrutinized by the whole world like that. It doesn't look like any of the other so-called winners have half a brain between them. I almost feel sorry for Willy Wonka. It must be very disappointing, having your big contest turn out like this."

Mokuba looked away over the clouds. Like the Battle City Tournament? Seto, you're the second-ranked duelist in the entire world–I'm certainly proud of you, does it matter so much that you're not the champion? And I know you don't believe it, but Yugi's Millennium Puzzle gives him an edge in dueling like Pegasus' Millennium Eye. Not that Yugi cheats like Pegasus did, he amended quickly. Yugi's a great duelist, but Pegasus really can't duel, even though he invented the game. He just relies on powerful cards that he created and no one else has seen. And he's a coward, kidnapping me to get to Seto.

Mokuba looked up at his brother, feeling the old assurance return. But you found me, Seto–you got all the way into his castle by yourself and found me. If Pegasus hadn't had the power of the Millennium Eye, you would have rescued me easily and then beaten him at his own game. You defeated the Big Five and you out-dueled Noah and Gozaburo, in the very world they were controlling. And you saved me again, Seto. When Noah had brainwashed me, you forfeited a winning move to give me time to snap out of it. That's why I could help Noah understand what a family was like–because you've always taken care of me no matter what it cost. That's the first lesson I learned, Big Brother: I can face anything as long as I have my family.

"And here we are at nine forty-five outside the Wonka factory, where the five lucky winners are waiting to go inside for this once in a lifetime opportunity! The five children who found a Golden Ticket . . ."

"Well he's certainly getting his money's worth in news coverage," Seto grumbled. "I just hope this whole circus is worth my time."

Mokuba didn't answer. Meeting the other winners that morning had put Seto in one of his snide moods and he wasn't taking any pains to hide it. Not that he ever does.

Mr. Salt had started it with a condescending question about who Seto's mentors were on the Kaiba Corp board of directors, as such a young man obviously couldn't run a giant corporation on his own. Unlike you, Kaiba had answered, I don't need a bunch of cautious old men telling me how to run my company. Well, with any luck Mr. Salt wouldn't be talking to them again for a while.

Mrs. Beauregarde had announced that personal drive and motivation were the most important things for a person to have, and didn't Mr. Kaiba agree? While a strong inner motivation is indeed necessary, he'd said with cold amusement, You also have to have intelligence to succeed in life. Drive means nothing if you can't out-think your opponents.

Mrs. Gloop hadn't said much to anyone, being too busy alternately encouraging and chiding Augustus about his snacking. How can he eat like that? Mokuba wondered. He's like an eating machine!

Veruca and Violet had spent the time eyeing each other with a venom Mokuba hadn't seen since the regional finals. Augustus had done nothing but munch down candy bar after candy bar. Mokuba shook his head and turned to the two standing beside him. Charlie was there with his grandfather, both as thin as rails and dressed in clothes that, while clean, were ragged with long use. Mokuba liked Charlie, though. His eyes were bright and hopeful, and he walked slowly so as not to rush his grandfather.

"So you actually worked for Mr. Wonka before he closed his factory, sir?" he asked the frail old man standing with one hand on Charlie's shoulder for support.

"Yes, I worked for Mr. Wonka for years, from the time he started out with his first little store on Cherry Street. The man was a genius with candy."

"My grandfather's told me stories about him," said Charlie, his eyes bright with interest, "There was an Indian Prince, Prince Pondicherry, who had Mr. Wonka build him an entire palace out of chocolate."

"Wow. A chocolate palace."

"But when the sun got hot, the palace melted into a big puddle of chocolate and the prince's people spent weeks trying to eat it all up."

"That was a stupid thing to waste his money on," Seto said dismissively.

"Still, it must have been something to see," said Mokuba.

"Daddy," Veruca said imperiously, "I want to go in."

"It's nine-fifty-nine, sweetheart."

"Make time go faster."

And I thought Seto could be demanding.

"Do you think Mr. Wonka will recognize you?" Charlie asked his grandfather.

"Hard to say. It's been years."

"Eyes on the prize, Violet," said Mrs. Beauregarde, "Eyes on the prize."

Augustus opened another candy bar.

At ten o'clock precisely, the great gates swung open and a voice came over the loudspeakers–

"Please enter."

Veruca instantly stepped forward, her father hurrying in her wake. Violet and her mother were right behind them, eyes hard and determined. Augustus and his mother waddled after them. Seto snorted and strode forward, coattails flapping in the chilly air; Mokuba trotted beside him, drawing a little closer to his brother. Charlie and his grandfather came last.
"Come forward."
The group obeyed, a little more cautiously on the part of the leaders.

"Close the gates."

Behind them the gates swung closed as silently as they had opened. As they approached the doors, the voice continued,

"Dear visitors, it is my great pleasure to welcome you to my humble factory. And who am I? Well. . ."

Panels slid back to reveal a stage on which little wax figures danced and revolved on brightly colored wheels to the tune of a bright little song.

"Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, The amazing chocolatier. Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, Everybody give a cheer! Hooray! He's modest, clever and so smart, He barely can restrain it. With so much generosity, there is no way to contain it! To contain it! To contain, to contain, to contain! Hooray! Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, He's the one that you're about to meet. Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, He's the genius who just can't be beat. The magician and the chocolate whiz. The best darn guy who ever lived. Willy Wonka, here he is! The amazing chocolatier!"

The fireworks at then end caught several of the puppets on fire, which burned merrily while the ornate chair which slid forward was clearly devoid of occupant.

What was that all about? Mokuba wondered.

Someone in the group was clapping.

"Wasn't that just magnificent?" asked a strange voice. "I was worried it was getting a little dodgy in the middle part, but then that finale. . . Wow!"

A thin, pale man in a top hat and big, dark goggles was standing among them, grinning nervously.

"Who are you?" Violet asked.

"He's Willy Wonka," Grandpa Joe said reverently.

"Really?" Charlie asked.

Wow. That's really not what I was expecting.

Willy Wonka smiled anxiously at the group and held up a set of flash cards to read from.

"Good morning, starshine, the earth says hello." He seemed to expect a response, and when none was forthcoming turned hurriedly to the next card. "Dear guests, greetings. Welcome to the factory. I shake you warmly by the hand. My name is Willy Wonka."

Veruca's eyes narrowed. "Then shouldn't you be up there?"

"Well, I couldn't very well watch the show from up there, now, could I, little girl?" he demanded in a quick, business-like voice quite different from his former tone.

"Mr. Wonka," said Grandpa Joe eagerly, "I don't know if you'll remember me, but I used to work here in the factory."

"Were you one of those despicable spies who every day tried to steal my life's work and sell it to those parasitic copy-cat, candy making cads?"

"No, sir," the old man said in a shocked voice.

"Then wonderful. Welcome back." The candy maker pushed his way back through the smoking puppets. "Let's get a move on, kids."

"And that guy really runs a company like this?" Mokuba whispered to his brother as they followed.

"Well now I can understand why he hasn't been seen in ten years."

"Don't you want to know our names?" Augustus asked as they came into a long, high-ceilinged hallway.

"Can't imagine how it would matter. Come quickly. Far too much to see. Just drop your coats anywhere."

Mokuba took off his jacket along with the others; the hallway was quite warm, but Kaiba didn't remove his long white coat.

"It's very warm in here," said Mrs. Gloop, fanning herself with her hat.

"What? Oh, yeah. I have to keep it warm in here, because my workers are used to an extremely hot climate. They just can't stand the cold."

"Who are the workers?" Charlie asked.

"All in good time. Now–"

Violet stepped forward and threw her arms around Willy Wonka, who reacted as though he'd stepped in something unpleasant.

"Mr. Wonka, I'm Violet Beauregarde."

"Oh? I don't care."

"Well, you should care," Violet said sternly. "Because I'm the girl that's gonna win the special prize at the end."

"Well, you do seem confident, and confidence is key."

Kaiba smirked in amusement. I wonder what's really going on here? Mokuba thought.

Veruca stepped forward with a practiced, winning smile.

"I'm Veruca Salt. It's very nice to meet you, sir," she said with a curtsey.

"I always thought that a verruca was a type of wart you got on the bottom of your foot. Ha!"

The heavyset boy took his chance next. "I'm Augustus Gloop. I love your chocolate."

"I can see that. So do I. I never expected to have so much in common. You," he turned to the four standing at the back, "You're Mokuba Kaiba. You're the one who came in the dragon plane. And you. Well, you're just lucky to be here, aren't you? And the rest of you must be their–" he stuttered suddenly, as though unable to say the next word.

"Parents," Mr. Salt supplied at last.

"Yeah. Moms and dads. Dad?" the candy maker broke off again, his eyes vacant, "Papa?"

There was an awkward pause, then he continued in his bright, business-like voice, "Okay, then. Let's move along.

I wonder if he's okay, Mokuba thought. He sure acts weird. He drew a little closer to Seto as they walked at the rear of the group. Ahead of them, Augustus was walking alongside Charlie.

"Would you like some chocolate?" he asked, showing yet another candy bar.

"Sure," Charlie said eagerly.

"Then you should have brought some," Augustus said with a laugh, biting into the bar and walking away.

Mokuba blinked at this deliberate cruelty–it was obvious candy was a rare luxury to Charlie, and just looking at him made Mokuba remember their own early years, with nothing in the world but each other. Mom and Dad used to buy us candy. After they died, it was years before we ever got chocolate again. Seto used to make up all sorts of stories to get me to think the food we got at the orphanage was really good for me and tasted great. He did everything he could to make me forget how bad life was.

He pulled out the last of his winning bar–slightly mushy from staying in his pocket–and fell into step with Charlie.

"Here," he said, offering the last few squares, "You can have mine. It tastes better if you share it, anyway."

Charlie hesitated, then gave in to the earnest look in the other boy's eyes.

"Thank you," he said, breaking off a square with a warm smile.

Mokuba smiled back and broke off a square for himself, joining Charlie in a happy moment of chocolate communion.

Ahead of them, Veruca and Violet linked arms with poisonously sweet smiles.

"Let's be friends," said Veruca.

"Best friends," Violet agreed.

They came to a door at the end of the hall, a small, square door about four feet high.

"An important room, this," said Willy Wonka, "After all, it is a chocolate factory."

"Then why is the door so small?" Mokuba asked curiously.

"That's to keep all the great big chocolaty flavor inside. Now, do be careful, my dear children. Don't lose your heads. Don't get overexcited. Just keep very calm."

The room on the other side was enormous. It looked like a garden from some strange fairy tale: vivid green grass and strange, brightly-colored plants growing along the banks of a velvety, dark brown river.

"It's beautiful," said Charlie.

"What? Oh, yeah, it's very beautiful. Every drop of the river, is hot, melted chocolate of the finest quality. The waterfall is most important. Mixes the chocolate. Churns it up. Makes it light and frothy. By the way, no other factory in the world mixes it's chocolate by waterfall, my dear children. And you can take that to the bank."

"Woah," Mokuba said softly. "It's not just a factory, it's his own little world."

A big, saucer-shaped device descended over the river, lowering a large, clear pipe down into the thick liquid.

"People," the candy maker indicated the pipe, "Those pipes–suck up the chocolate, and carry it away, all over the factory. Thousands of gallons an hour. Yeah." He looked around, "And do you like my meadow? Try some of my grass. Please have a blade. Please do. It's so delectable and so darn good-looking."

"You can eat the grass?" Charlie asked in surprise.

"Of course you can. Everything in this room is edible. Even I'm edible. But that is called cannibalism, my dear children, and is, in fact frowned upon in most societies. Yeah. Enjoy. Go on. Scoot, scoot."

The visitors stood for a moment, then began cautiously exploring the strange garden. First one, then another tried some piece of their surroundings and found it delicious. Mokuba reached down and picked a blade of grass, examining it for a minute before tasting it gingerly.

"Hey, Seto," he said wonderingly, "It really is good–you ought to try this!"

"I told you you should have eaten breakfast this morning."

Charlie reached for a strange sort of apple growing from a viney tree, only to have Violet snatch it away as he touched it. She stared him down defiantly, taking her gum and sticking it behind one ear.

"Why hold onto it?" Charlie asked, "Why not just start a new piece?"

"Because then I wouldn't be a champion. I'd be a loser, like you."

Mokuba put a hand on Charlie's shoulder as Violet strode away.

"Never mind her, let's try that mushroom thing over there. It looks really good."

"Okay."

Seto, who had tasted nothing, followed silently after the two boys, watching carefully for any threats. Inside, he was quite sure he knew exactly what was going on with this whole tour and was not about to see anything happen to Mokuba.

Augustus wobbled through the curious landscape like a devouring giant, grabbing handfuls of whatever was closest and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Daddy, look over there," Veruca's imperious voice carried well over the rustle of the room, "What is it? It's a little person. Over there, by the waterfall."

The group turned in the direction she was pointing and saw a small figure about two feet high standing in the grass across the river.

"There's two of them," said Mrs. Beauregarde.

"There's more than two," said Mokuba. "Look, Seto."

"Where do they come from?" asked Mrs. Gloop.

"Who are they?" Charlie wanted to know.

"Are they real people?" asked Mokuba.

"Of course they're real people," said the candy maker. "They're Oompa-Loompas."

"Oompa-Loompas?" Mr. Salt repeated.

"Imported, direct from Loompaland."

"Hm," Seto snorted, "There's no such place."

"What?"

"I said, there's no such place. At least, not in the real world."

"Well, then you should know all about it, and, oh, what a terrible country it is. The whole place is nothing but thick jungles infested by the most dangerous beasts in the entire world. Hornswogglers and snozzwangers and those terrible, wicked whangdoodles. I went to Loompaland looking for exotic new flavors for candy. Instead, I found the Oompa-Loompas. They lived in tree houses to escape from the fierce creatures who lived below. The Oompa-Loompas ate nothing but green caterpillars, which tasted revolting. The Oompa-Loompas kept looking for other things to mash up with the caterpillars to make them taste better. Red beetles, the bark of the bong-bong tree. All of them beastly, but not quite so beastly as the caterpillars.

"But the food they longed for the most was the cocoa bean. An Oompa-Loompa was lucky if he found three or four cocoa beans a year. But, oh, how they craved them. All they'd ever think about was cocoa beans. The cocoa bean happens to be the thing from which chocolate is made, so I told the chief, 'Come live in my factory. You can have all the cocoa beans you want! I will even pay your wages in cocoa beans if you wish!' They are such wonderful workers. I feel I must warn you, though, they are rather mischievous. Always making jokes."

After a moment of silence, Mrs. Gloop's voice could be heard chiding her son yet again.

"Augustus, my child, that is not a good thing you do!"

They turned to see the fat boy down by the river bank, scooping handfuls of liquid chocolate up to guzzle.

"Hey, little boy," Willy Wonka called in alarm, "My chocolate must be untouched by human hands."

As they spoke, Augustus reached too far and rolled helplessly into the deep brown river.

"He'll drown!" Mrs. Gloop wailed as her son wallowed and thrashed, "He can't swim! Save him! Augustus!"

Willy Wonka was looking up, where the saucer-shaped disk was once again descending over the river.

Cold blue eyes narrowed as they watched.

The pipe was lowered into the river, and a whirlpool formed around it as the machine began sucking up chocolate at an alarming rate. Augustus, caught in the vortex, was dragged under.

"No! Augustus! Augustus! Watch out!"

Mokuba gripped Seto's coat. Unlike the other children, he was familiar with factories and knew just how fragile the human body was against the terrible power of machinery. He shuddered in horror at the unfolding drama.

"You've got to shut the pumps off!" he cried. "He'll be killed!"

"There he goes," Violet said as the boy appeared in the transparent pipe.

"Call the fire brigade!" wailed his mother.

Mrs. Beauregarde shook her head. "It's a wonder how that pipe is big enough."

"It isn't big enough," Charlie exclaimed, "He's slowing down."

"He's gonna stick," said Veruca.

"I think he has," Violet echoed.

"He's blocked the whole pipe," said Mr. Salt.

"Look," Charlie's voice was puzzled, "The Oompa-Loompas."

"What are they doing?" Veruca asked.

Willy Wonka smiled. "Why, I believe they're going to treat us to a little song. It is quite a special occasion of course. They haven't had a fresh audience in many a moon."

A song? Mokuba wondered as the music started, If Augustus gets pulled into the machinery he's going to die! Why don't they shut the pumps off?

"Augustus Gloop, Augustus Gloop,

The great big, greedy nincompoop,

Augustus Gloop, so big and vile,

So greedy, foul and infantile,

'Come on!' we cried 'the time is ripe,

To sent him shooting up the pipe!'

But don't, dear children, be alarmed,

Augustus Gloop will not be harmed,

Augustus Gloop will not be harmed.

Although, of course, we must admit,

He will be altered quite a bit,

Slowly wheels go round and round,

And cogs begin to grind and pound,

This greedy brute, this louse's ear,

Is loved by people everywhere,

For who could hate or bear a grudge,

Against a luscious bit of fudge?"

Willy Wonka applauded loudly. "Bravo! Well done! Aren't they delightful? Aren't they charming?"

Mr. Salt looked suspicious. "I do say, that all seemed rather rehearsed."

"As though they knew it was going to happen," Kaiba said.

Mokuba, still clinging tightly to his brother's coat, looked up. Seto had the dangerous look of predatory enjoyment he got when dueling, only now he was watching Willy Wonka through narrowed eyes. If they had been in a duel, Mokuba would have guessed Seto was planning some truly devastating combo.

Uh-oh.

"Oh, poppycock," the candy maker said blithely.

"Where is my son?" Mrs. Gloop demanded, "Where does that pipe go to?"

"That pipe, it just so happens to lead directly to the room where I make the most delicious kind of strawberry flavored, chocolate-coated fudge."

"Then he will be made into strawberry flavored, chocolate-coated fudge. They'll be selling him by the pound all over the world?"

"No. I wouldn't allow it. The taste would be terrible. Can you imagine Augustus-flavored, chocolate coated Gloop? Eww! No-one would buy it." He waved over one of the Oompa-Loompas, "I want you to take Mrs. Gloop up to the fudge room, okay? Help her find her son. Take a long stick and start poking around in the big chocolate-mixing barrel, okay?"

The tiny man nodded solemnly and gave a little tug on Mrs. Gloop's skirt, pulling her along behind him.

"Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked.

"Huh?"

"Why would Augustus' name already be in the Oompa-Loompa song, unless. . .?"

"Improvisation is a parlor trick. Anyone can do it. You, little girl," he pointed to Violet, "Say something. Anything."

"Chewing gum."

"Chewing gum is really gross, chewing gum I hate the most. See? Exactly the same."

"Not really," Mokuba said in a low voice.

"Er, you really shouldn't mumble. Because I can't understand a word you're saying. Now, on with the tour," the candy maker finished brightly.

"Are the Oompa-Loompas really joking?" Charlie asked his grandfather as they followed.

"Of course they're joking," the old man said reassuringly, "That boy will be fine."

Charlie looked down, relieved, and missed the worried expression on his grandfather's face.

"Seto," Mokuba said softly.

"Don't worry, Mokuba," the head of Kaiba Corp said dismissively, "Even someone as crazy as he is wouldn't risk the lawsuits that would follow if he actually hurt anyone."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. The whole world is watching this circus. What do you think would happen if five children went in and only four came out?"

"Everyone would stop buying his candy."

"Exactly. Let's catch up with the others. You can let go of my coat now," he added.

Mokuba released his grip on Seto's coat and trotted to keep up with his brother's long strides. The sick feeling in his stomach was beginning to subside. I guess Seto's right, Mr. Wonka really can't risk anything happening to us.

A curious boat was coming down the river, like a dragon carved from a single piece of pink candy. A crew of Oompa-Loompas sat at the long banks of oars while a diminutive pausarius set the pace on a large drum. The candy maker laughed suddenly.

"What's so funny?" Violet asked.

"I think it's from all those doggone cocoa beans. Hey, by the way, did you guys know that chocolate contains a property that triggers the release of endorphins? Gives one the feeling of being in love."

"You don't say," Mrs. Beauregarde said coldly.

"All aboard," said the candy maker.

The group climbed aboard, taking their seats gingerly. Mokuba took an inside seat, feeling better with Seto sitting tall and confident beside him.

"Onward," said Willy Wonka, and the boat set out to the slow beat of the drum.

They sailed through the edible garden, the boat moving lightly on the thick chocolate stream.

"Here," the candy maker dipped a ladle into the river and handed it to Charlie, who was sitting beside him, "Try some of this. It'll do you good. You look starved to death."

"It's great."

"That's because it's mixed by waterfall. The waterfall is most important. Mixes the chocolate, churns it up, makes it light and frothy. Oh, by the way, no other factory in the world–"

"You already said that," Veruca pointed out snidely.

"You're all quite short, aren't you?"

Violet rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah. We're children."

"Well, that's no excuse. I was never as short as you."

"You must have been, once," Mokuba pointed out.

"Was not. Know why? Because I distinctly remember putting a hat on top of my head. Look at your short little arms. You could never reach."

"Do you even remember what it was like being a kid?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Oh, boy, do I." The candy maker's expression turned to one of confusion, "Do I?"

He stared into space for a minute.

"Mr. Wonka?" Charlie said finally, "Mr. Wonka? We're headed for a tunnel."

The candy maker shook off his lassitude.

"Oh, yeah. Full speed ahead."

"How can they see where they're going?" Violet asked as the boat entered the darkness of the tunnel.

"They can't. There's no knowing where they're going. Switch on the lights!" Willy Wonka ordered.

Ahead of them, the tunnel suddenly dipped to become a giant pipe and the dragon boat pitched and rolled as it danced lightly from wave crest to wave crest. Other pipes joined theirs and the chocolate river widened and grew more turbulent with each new tributary. There were no handrails on the boat and some of the riders gripped their seats to hang on. Mokuba grabbed his brother's arm as they went down one steep wave, only to rise on another. Seto sat with his arms folded, keeping his balance easily on the swaying boat.

Then the river widened out and the waves sank into a calm, placid flow that carried them past a series of rooms in a new part of the plant.

"People, keep an eye out. We're passing some very important rooms here."

The signs over the doors announced a series of creams–butter cream, coffee cream, hair cream.

"What do you use hair cream for?" Mrs. Beauregarde wondered.

"To lock in moisture," Willy Wonka said with a laugh, fluffing his well-manicured locks.

Mokuba edged a little closer to his brother, who sniffed in amusement.

"At least he's not a walking L'Oreal advertisement, like Yugi and his friend Bakura."

Through the window of another door they saw a cow suspended in a harness, mooing, while several Oompa-Loompas flicked her with whips.

"Whipped cream," said Charlie suddenly, as if answering a riddle.

"Precisely," Willy Wonka said cheerfully.

"That doesn't make sense," said Veruca.

"For your information, little girl, whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Everybody knows that. Stop the boat. I wanna show you guys something."

They got off the boat at a dock and the candy maker showed them into what was obviously a laboratory.
"Now, this is the most important room in the entire factory. Now, everyone, enjoy yourselves, but just don't . . . touch anything. Okay? Go on. Go on, scoot."

"What's wrong, Mokuba?" Seto asked dryly. "Don't tell me you're scared."

"I don't know that I want to look around."

"Hey, Mr. Wonka, what's this?" Violet called.

She was standing by a large tank in which several Oompa-Loompas in diving gear were swimming around measuring brightly-colored balls lying on the bottom.

"Oh, let me show you." Willy Wonka banged on the side of the tank, and an Oompa-Loompa handed him one of the dripping balls. "Thank you. These are Everlasting Gobstoppers. They're for children who are given very little allowance money. You can suck on it all year, and it'll never get any smaller. Isn't that neat?"

Everlasting candy for kids without much money. Mokuba came a little closer to look. That's a great idea, but not really a money-making one. Maybe he's not so bad after all.

"It's like gum," Violet said after a minute.

"No. Gum is for chewing. And if you tried chewing one of these Gobstoppers, you'd break all your little teeth off. They sure do taste terrific." He picked up another piece of candy, "And this is hair toffee. You suck down one of these little boogers, and in exactly half an hour, a brand new crop of hair will start growing out all over the top of your little noggin. And a mustache. And a beard."

"Who wants a beard?" Veruca said disparagingly.

"Well . . . beatniks, for one. Folk singers and motorbike riders. You know, all those hip, jazzy, super-cool, neat, keen and groovy cats. It's in the fridge, daddy-o. Are you hep to the jive? Can you dig what I'm laying down? I knew that you could. Slide me some skin, soul brother. Unfortunately, the mixture isn't quite right yet. Because an Oompa-Loompa tried some yesterday, and, well, he . . . " his voice trailed off as he looked at something to one side. It was probably an Oompa-Loompa under there somewhere, but it most resembled a large floor mop with sunglasses.

"How are you today? You look great."

The floor mop gave him a thumbs up.

"Well," Kaiba said with a smirk, "What do you know. I've finally seen something more ridiculous than a Kuriboh."

Willy Wonka had gone over to a large, complex machine and was fiddling with the controls.

"Watch this," he announced as the machine began whirring and grinding. A variety of odd things went by in various parts of the Plexiglas housing, including a bee hive, tomatoes, and something cooking in large amounts of steam. Finally, an arm extended out from the machine in sections, producing a small strip of pale material.

"That's it?" said Veruca.

"Do you even know what 'it' is?"

"It's gum," said Violet, staring hard at the candy.

"Yeah. It's a stick of the most amazing and sensational gum in the whole universe. Know why? Know why? 'Cause this gum is a full three-course dinner all by itself."

"Why would anyone want that?" asked Mr. Salt.

The candy man picked up another set of flashcards. "It will be the end of all kitchens and all cooking. Just a little strip of Wonka's magic chewing gum and that is all you will ever need at breakfast, lunch and dinner. This piece of gum happens to be tomato soup, roast beef and blueberry pie."

"It sounds great," said Grandpa Joe.

"It sounds weird," Veruca corrected.

"It sounds like my kinda gum." Violet stepped forward and snatched the piece, sticking her own gum behind her ear again.

"I, I'd rather you didn't," Willy Wonka said nervously, "There's still one or two thing that are–"

Violet gave him a killing look. "I'm the world-record holder in chewing gum. I'm not afraid of anything."

She stuffed the gum in her mouth and started chewing.

"How is it, honey?" Mrs. Beauregarde asked with a proud smile.

"It's amazing! Tomato soup. I can feel it running down my throat."

The candy maker nodded. "Yeah. Spit it out."

"Young lady," Grandpa Joe warned, "I think you'd better–"

"It's changing," said Violet, "Roast beef with baked potato. Crispy skin and butter!"

"Keep chewing, kiddo," said her mother. "My little girl's gonna be the first person in the world to have a chewing-gum meal."

"Yeah," said Willy Wonka, "I'm just a little concerned about the–"

"Blueberry pie and ice cream!" said Violet.

The candy maker winced. "That part."

As they watched, a strange blue patch appeared on Violet's face, and began spreading rapidly.

"What's happening to her nose?" Veruca asked.

"It's turning blue," said her father.

Mrs. Beauregarde stared at her daughter. "Your whole nose has gone purple!"

"What do you mean?" Violet asked, still chewing.

"Violet, you're turning violet!" Her mother turned on Willy Wonka, "What's happening?"

"Well, I told you I hadn't got it quite right. 'Cause it goes a little funny when it gets to the dessert. It's the blueberry pie that does it. I'm terribly sorry."

He ducked out of sight behind the machine as Violet began to swell.

"Mother? What's happening to me?"

"She's swelling up," said Grandpa Joe.

"Like a blueberry," said Charlie.

Before their eyes, the four foot girl ballooned out steadily until she was a ball some eight feet in diameter, with her head, hands, and feet sticking out here and there. She was now blue all over. Why didn't she spit it out? Mokuba wondered. Everyone told her to!

"I've tried it on, like, twenty Oompa-Loompas," said Willy Wonka, popping up suddenly beside Mrs. Beauregard, "And each one ended up as a blueberry. It's just weird."

"But I can't have a blueberry as a daughter! How is she supposed to compete?"

"You could put her in a county fair," Veruca said snidely.

Music started from somewhere and more Oompa-Loompas came out, dancing.

"Yeah, yeah, Yeah,

Listen close, and listen hard,

To the tale of Violet Beauregarde,

This gentle girl, She sees no wrong,

In chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long. Yeah.

She goes on chewing till, at last,

Her chewing muscles grow so vast,

And from her face, Her giant chin,

Sticks out like a violin,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long.

For years and years she chews away,

Her jaws get stronger every day,

And with one great tremendous chew,

They bite the poor girl's tongue in two,

And that is why we try so hard,

To save Miss Violet Beauregarde,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing, chewing, chewing,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long,

Chewing, chewing all day long."

"Mr. Wonka!" Violet wailed.

The candy maker had called over one of the Oompa-Loompas.

"I want you to roll Miss Beauregarde into the boat and take her along to the juicing room at once, okay?"

"The juicing room?" her mother repeated, "What are they gonna do to her there?"

"They're gonna squeeze her. Like a little pimple. We gotta squeeze all that juice out of her immediately."

Violet had been rolled to the doorway, but she was now stuck there.

"Mother, help me. Please!"

Mrs. Beauregarde went to help the Oompa-Loompas, giving her daughter a solid push to get her loose.

"Come on," Willy Wonka said cheerfully, "Let's boogie. Without the boat, we'll have to move double-time just to keep on schedule. There's far too much to see."

"Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked as their reduced group walked down the hall.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you decide to let people in?"

"Well, so they could see the factory, of course."

"But why now? And why only five?"

Mokuba looked up at his brother's snort to see a scornful expression on the older boy's face. Seto must have figured it out already. But what could it be?

"What's the special prize, and who gets it?" Veruca asked.

"The best kind of prize is a surprise."

"Will Violet always be a blueberry?" Mokuba asked.

"No. Maybe. I don't know. But that's what you get from chewing gum all day. It's just disgusting."

"But–if you hate gum so much, why do you make it?"

"Once again, you really shouldn't mumble. 'Cos it's kinda starting to bum me out."

"Can you remember the first candy you ever ate?" Charlie asked hurriedly, with an anxious look at Mokuba.

"No." The candy maker stopped, staring into space again. "I'm sorry, I was having a flashback."

"I see," said Mr. Salt dryly, "These flashbacks happen often?"

"Increasingly–today."

They came around a corner where a sign announced the Nut Room. Mr. Salt smiled, glad to be on familiar ground.

"Ah, this is a room I know all about. For you see, Mr. Wonka, I, myself, am in the nut business. Are you using the Havermax four thousand to do your sorting?"

"No. You're really weird," the candy maker said with a laugh.

He opened the door and showed them in; down below the balcony, a long work bench ran around the inside of the room and on each stool sat a small, furry creature with a long, fluffy tail. A blue and white pinwheel spiraled down to a large opening in the center of the room, disappearing into shadowed depths.

"Squirrels," Veruca said in surprise.

"Yeah. Squirrels. These squirrels are specially trained to get the nuts out of shells."

Mr. Salt looked puzzled. "You use squirrels? Why not use Oompa-Loompas?"

"Because only squirrels can get the whole walnut out almost every single time. You see how they tap each one with their little knuckles to make sure it's not bad? Oh, look. Look. I think that one's got a bad nut."

The squirrel in question banged on a walnut several times, then threw it behind him with a chirp of disgust. The nut bounced and rolled down to disappear into the wide hole.

"Daddy," Veruca said imperiously, "I want a squirrel. Get me one of those squirrels. I want one."

"Veruca, dear, you have many marvelous pets."

"All I've got at home is one pony and two dogs and four cats and six rabbits and two parakeets and three canaries and a green parrot and a turtle and a silly old hamster. I want a squirrel!"

"All right, pet," Mr. Salt said benevolently, "Daddy will get you a squirrel just as soon as he possibly can."

"But I don't want any old squirrel, I want a trained squirrel."

"Very well. Mr. Wonka, how much do you want for one of these squirrels? Name your price."

"Oh, they're not for sale," Willy Wonka said calmly, "She can't have one."

Veruca turned to stare up at her father with hard eyes. "Daddy."

"I'm sorry, darling," Willy Wonka said in an almost perfect imitation of Mr. Salt's voice, "Mr. Wonka's being unreasonable."

Veruca scowled at her father's silence.

"If you won't get me a squirrel, I'll get one myself."

She slipped under the railing and began climbing down the stairs.

"Veruca," Mr. Salt called, but the girl ignored him.

"Little girl?" Willy Wonka added nervously.

"Veruca, come back here at once. Veruca!"

The girl ignored them both, walking out across the pinwheeled floor. All around the room, squirrels stopped their work and turn to stare at her in eerie silence. Veruca walked up to a plump squirrel with a particularly fluffy tail.

"Little girl?" the candy maker called again, "Don't touch that squirrel's nuts. It'll make him crazy."

"Seto," Mokuba said anxiously.

"I'll have you," Veruca announced, reaching out to pick up the squirrel.

"Veruca!"

As she touched the squirrel, it jumped forward, striking her in the forehead and knocking her backwards. As if on cue, all the squirrels jumped down and ran towards her, burying her in a pile of indignant, chattering fur.

"Veruca," her father called, "Veruca!"

Willy Wonka rattled the gate across the stairs, then pulled out a large ring of keys.

"Let's find the key. Nope. Not that one."

"Daddy!" Veruca screamed.

"Veruca!"

Willy Wonka had tried several more keys.

"No. There it is!" he tried the key, "There it isn't."

"Daddy, I want them to stop!"

The squirrels were now sitting all over her, holding her down, while the squirrel she had tried to grab hopped up to her forehead and began rapping her head with his knuckles.

"What are they doing?" Charlie asked in horrified fascination.

"They're testing to see if she's a bad nut," the candy maker explained, trying another key. "Oh, my goodness. She is a bad nut after all."

"Veruca!"

"Daddy!" she screamed again, as the squirrels grabbed her with hundreds of tiny paws and lifted, dragging her towards the hole in the center of the room.

"We have to do something," Mokuba pulled on his brother's arm.

"It's pretty obvious she got herself into this one," Kaiba said dismissively. "If she's going to be a brat, she has to take the consequences."

Mokuba looked back at the shrieking Veruca, being dragged inexorably towards the bottomless hole by the enraged squirrels.

"Where are they taking her?" Mr. Salt demanded.

"Where all the other bad nuts go. To the garbage chute."

"Where does the chute go?"

"To the incinerator. But don't worry. We only light it on Tuesdays."

"Today is Tuesday," said Charlie.

"Mokuba!"

At the word incinerator, Mokuba had darted forward and slipped under the gate. Now he was running down the steps and across the floor, scattering squirrels in his wake.

"Hang on!" he shouted.

"Daddy!"

On the brink of the chute, Mokuba's hand closed over Veruca's wrist and he dragged her back from the edge, swatting furious squirrels off the screaming girl.

"Get off her!" He pulled Veruca to her feet, "Come on, we've got to get out of here!"

He half-pulled, half-dragged the girl back across the floor to the steps, pushing her up in front of him while the squirrels danced and shrieked with anger behind them.

Willy Wonka had finally found the key to unlock the gate, but he was staring at Mokuba in patent confusion.

"Well . . . that was unexpected," he said to no one in particular.

"I'll bet it was." Kaiba was standing just behind him, his body still tensed for sudden movement. The amusement was gone from his eyes, but he relaxed slightly as the two reached the top without mishap.

"Daddy," Veruca, drew herself up, "I do not want a squirrel."

"I should think not." Her father took her by the shoulder, looking somewhere between upset and relieved. "You stay on the walkways from now on."

"Aren't you going to thank Mokuba?" Charlie asked.

"What?" Veruca was straightening her squirrel-torn clothes.

"For saving you."

"He just got in my way!"

Mokuba's eyes dimmed and he looked down.

"You see, Mokuba," said his brother, "That's what you get for saving a spoiled brat. Maybe next time you won't waste your energy."

"Well, let's keep on trucking," said Willy Wonka. "I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier. The elevator's by far the most efficient way to get around the factory."

The elevator was entirely made of glass, with rows upon rows of buttons up and down the walls. Veruca was still sulking, so Charlie and Mokuba examined the buttons to escape the awkwardness of the moment.

"There can't be this many floors, can there?" Mokuba wondered aloud. "The factory didn't look that big from the outside."

"How do you know it isn't?" the candy maker asked. "And this isn't just an ordinary up and down elevator, by the way. This elevator can go sideways, longways, slantways, and any other ways you can think of. You just press any button and, whoosh, you're off."

He demonstrated, and the elevator took off at high speed with its full load.

"Oh, look," Willy Wonka said as they passed into another huge room, in which was a miniature mountain on which Oompa-Loompas were roped together like mountain climbers, digging chunks out with tiny picks as powdered sugar swirled around them in flurries, "Look. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to fudge mountain."

"Woah."

Mokuba and Charlie stood with noses pressed against the glass, watching everything go by. In the next room, Oompa-Loompas were shearing fluffy pink sheep of loads of cotton-candy colored wool.

"Oh," Willy Wonka laughed nervously, "I'd rather not talk about this one."

Another room contained a series of little hospital beds.

"This is the puppet hospital and burn center. It's relatively new."

Then there was a large room with a small compliment of Oompa-Loompa sized desks and office equipment.

"Ah, the administration offices. Hello, Doris."

The Oompa-Loompa behind the tiny desk nodded gravely.

"Why is everything here completely pointless?" Veruca demanded.

"Candy doesn't have to have a point," said Charlie. "That's why it's candy."

"It's stupid," said Veruca.

Behind her, Willy Wonka seemed to space out again.

"There's so much here," Charlie said after a minute. "How did you ever come up with it all?"

"Oh, I just think of things and then wow! I get a great new idea for an invention. Say, would you like to see my latest invention?"

"Sure."

The next room was plain white, and filled with strange equipment and Oompa-Loompas in little protective suits. Willy Wonka handed them each a pair of dark goggles.

"Here. Put these on quick, and don't take them off whatever you do. This light could burn your eyeballs right out of your skulls. And we certainly don't want that, now, do we?"

He led the way to a platform by a wide control panel. In one corner, an Oompa-Loompa was sitting in a tiny recliner watching a large television.

"This is the testing room for my very latest and greatest invention: Television Chocolate. One day it occurred to me, hey, if television can break up a photograph into millions and millions of tiny little pieces and send it whizzing through the air, then reassemble it on the other end, why can't I do the same thing with chocolate? Why can't I send a real bar of chocolate through the television, all ready to be eaten?"

"But that's impossible," said Mokuba. "That would take turning the candy bar from matter to energy and back."

"Mumbler! Seriously, I cannot understand a single word you're saying. Okey-dokey. I shall now send a bar of chocolate from one end of the room to the other, by television. Bring in the chocolate!"

Several Oompa-Loompas came in, carrying a huge bar of chocolate some six feet long.

"It's gotta be real big, 'cos you know how on TV you can film a regular-size man, and he comes out looking this tall? Same basic principle."

The Oompa-Loompa operators worked the controls and pushed a large red button. A large camera descended from the ceiling and the candy bar rose slowly into the air over a platform pulsating with light. Then there was a searing flash and the candy bar vanished.

"It's gone!" Charlie cried in surprise.

"Told you. Now, that bar of chocolate is now rushing through the air above our heads in a million tiny little pieces. Come over here. Come on. Come on." The candy maker hurried to the other side of the room, bending close to the television set. "Come on! Watch the screen. Here it comes. Oh, look!"

A candy bar had appeared in the middle of the scene. Kaiba frowned, studying the image intently.

"Take it," the candy maker urged Mokuba.

"But–it's just a picture on a screen," he said in a puzzled voice.

"Scaredy-cat." Willy Wonka turned to Charlie, "You take it. Go on. Just reach out and grab it. Go on."

Charlie hesitated, then reached carefully towards the screen. His hand went right through where the glass should have been and the candy bar he touched was solid and real. He pulled it back out.

"Holy buckets!" said Grandpa Joe.

"Seto!" Mokuba gasped.

"It's probably a trick," said Veruca.

"Eat it. Go on. It'll be delicious. It's the same bar. It's just gotten a little smaller on the journey, that's all."

Charlie broke off a square and nibbled it.

"It's great," he said, offering the bar to Mokuba, who also broke off a square.

"It's a miracle," said Grandpa Joe.

"So imagine, ah, you're sitting at home watching television and suddenly a commercial will flash onto the screen, and a voice will say, 'Wonka's chocolates are the best in the world. If you don't believe us, try one for yourself.' And you simply reach out . . . and take it. How about that?"

"That makes perfect sense," Kaiba said sarcastically, "The man who's invented the first teleportation system in the world can't think of anything to do with it except give away free candy samples."

"Could you send other things?" Mr. Salt asked, "Breakfast cereal, perhaps?"

"Do you have any idea what breakfast cereal's made of? It's those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners."

"But could you send it by television if you wanted to?" Charlie pressed.

"Of course I could."

"What about people?" Mokuba asked.

"Well, why would I want to send a person? They don't taste very good at all."

"Even if the system could send a living creature without damage," said Kaiba, "They'd still come out a much smaller size then they went in, making the system completely useless for that purpose."

"I dunno. It might have applications in the weight-loss world, don't you think?" Willy Wonka laughed brightly.

"That's amazing," Charlie said softly, staring at the candy bar in his hand.

"Well, let's move on," said the candy maker. He paused at the door, "Now who is still here? Oh, yes, you three. Huh. Three of you." He shrugged and opened the elevator. "There's still so much to see!"

Behind him, blue eyes narrowed again.

He's acting like he expected someone to be gone. Mokuba followed his brother onto the elevator, puzzling. I mean, we did lose those two kids, but they were both greedy about something and didn't listen. He didn't want them gone . . . did he?

"Now," said the candy maker, "Where shall we go next?"

I'm more worried about who's going to go next. Mokuba glanced at Charlie, who shrugged and looked up at the rows of buttons with him.

"I want to pick a room," said Veruca.

"Go ahead."

Veruca looked up at the choices, then pushed the button labeled Candy Zoo.

"I want to go there."

"Oh, the Zoo. Good choice."

Kaiba watched the candy maker with guarded eyes. It wasn't hard to see he was searching for someone to train as the next leader of his company, and choosing a child made perfect sense. Someone trained from a young age to think like you was the safest way to insure your company followed the path you'd set for it. Unless they turn out to be better than you. That was our stepfather's mistake.

So far, Willy Wonka had simply given the children free reign to knock themselves out of the competition through their own greed and while Mokuba had saved Veruca from herself once, the next time would most likely be different. That was fine with the head of Kaiba Corp. The question was what would happen next–he had no intention of letting anyone else take Mokuba for their own company. He's my brother and he'll follow in my footsteps. You're not going to take him away; but you're not going to throw him away like those other kids, either.

Well, at this rate it wouldn't matter. Mokuba, for all the dark times they'd gone through, had very little darkness in his nature. Seto had made sure of that by taking on himself the dark nature needed to beat their stepfather and his business associates. We're two halves of a whole–darkness and light. I have the power of the darkness, he has the purity of the light. As the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon and the Black Luster Soldier combine to form the Dragon Master Knight, which can defeat even the mighty Mythic Dragon, so when we're combined, there's nothing we can't defeat. That's our strategy for winning.

The new room looked much like any real zoo, with long rows of cages holding bored or pacing animals. But in this case, each animal was made of candy–chocolate, gummy, or hard–with candy dots for eyes. And they all moved as though they were alive.

"That's amazing," said Mokuba.

"They're alive," said Charlie.

"Remember the birds I told you about, Charlie?" said his grandfather.

"I started with birds," Willy Wonka explained, walking down the rows of cages, "But that was just a first step. Now I've got everything from licorice ants to marzipan elephants!"

A rippled length of hard candy ribbon suddenly moved, rearing up to reveal a green and white striped snake with a pink candy tongue. A white chocolate seal balanced a hard candy ball on its nose. Multicolored gummy bears chased caramel fish in a pond.

"You like animals, little girl," Willy Wonka said, "What's your favorite animal?"

"I like ponies," Veruca said stiffly. "I don't suppose you have any of those."

"Oh, I've got something better. This way."

He led them down to the end, where the last cage was actually a much larger, higher room made of bouncy gummy candy. Around the ceiling flew a flock of sparkling, pastel sugar horses with wide, almond-feathered wings.

"Flying horses!" Veruca gasped.

"They're actually pretty gentle if you don't upset them," said the candy maker.

"I want to ride one!"

"Okay."

Willy Wonka signaled to an Oompa-Loompa with a tiny riding crop, who blew a shrill whistle almost his own size. The horses circled gracefully and swooped down to land with a few bounces on the spongy floor. They came trotting over, neighing in sugary sweet tones.

"You can all ride one," said the candy maker. "Go on, pick a horse."

Veruca claimed the sparkling pink one, while Charlie chose the golden yellow and Mokuba the glittering blue. Veruca swung herself up easily while the boys managed after a few tries.

"Giddyap!" Veruca ordered, giving the horse a kick in the sugary flanks.

"Remember, whatever you do, don't upset them!" Willy Wonka called as the flock of horses took off with a fluttering of almond wings.

"It's a miracle," said Grandpa Joe.

"The only problem is they melt in the rain," said the candy maker. "And they get all gummy if they try to fly through a cloud."

The air rushed past them as the horses flew in lazy circles around the room. Charlie reached out and touched a wall as they swooped past; he laughed and waved to Mokuba, who waved back.

This is awesome! I've never dreamed of anything like this–Mr. Wonka really is a genius!

Veruca gave her horse another kick.

"Go faster, you stupid horse. I want to be first!"

The horse put its candy ears back, but flew a little faster.

"Careful, Veruca," Mokuba warned, "Mr. Wonka said not to upset them."

"You don't know anything about horses. I've been riding since I was three. Go faster, I said!"

Veruca kicked the horse again, harder. The candy eyes gleamed and the horse took off, passing the others easily on its way to the head of the flock.

"Uh-oh," Willy Wonka pulled his hat down a little tighter, "I told her not to do that."

"What?" Mr. Salt asked worriedly.

"Ooh, she's made it mad."

The pink horse was flying away from the flock now, and as the others landed neatly by the door, it began whirling in tighter and tighter circles. Then it started a series of violent mid-air acrobatics.

"It's bucking!" Grandpa Joe exclaimed.

"My Veruca's a very good rider," said Mr. Salt.

"However, she's never ridden a horse that could fly upside down," Kaiba commented coolly as the pink horse did just that.

"She'll fall!" Charlie cried.

"Oh, don't worry. Oompa-Loompas fall off all the time. That's why I had the floor made of gummy candy. She will bounce, though."

And as they watched, the horse shook Veruca loose and swept away as she plunged screaming to the floor. Willy Wonka was right; Veruca did bounce.

Her first bounce carried her halfway to the ceiling. Her next bounce carried her higher still.

"Oh my," said the candy maker. "No one that heavy has ever fallen off. I think I made the floor too bouncy."

"Daddy!"

"Veruca–er, try to bounce more softly!"

"Oh, it's no good now. She'll go all the way up."

"And hit the ceiling? She'll be killed!"

"Don't be silly. The ceiling's gummy too. But she may stick."

"What?" Mr. Salt asked.

"Stick. Like a fly on flypaper. See? There she goes!"

And with a squelching sound, Veruca slammed into the ceiling and stayed there.

"Daddy! Get me down!"

A group of Oompa-Loompas came somersaulting out to sudden music, bouncing like rabbits on the spongy floor.

"Veruca Salt the little brat,

Is sticking to the ceiling, splat!

And she will see, and finally know,

A rather different world below,

A rather different world below,

A rather different world below,

A pony, for example, that,

Ignores this whiny little brat,

A birdy in a cage who won't,

For Veruca, sing a note,

Animals who will ignore,

This cruel, demanding, little bore,

Little bore,

This is the real world we know,

That she will see, so far below,

This is the real world we know.

Who went and spoiled her, who indeed?

Who pandered to her every need?

Who turned her into such a brat?

Who are the culprits? Who did that?

The guilty ones, now this is sad,

Are dear old Mum and loving Dad."

"Good thing she stuck face down!" Willy Wonka said cheerfully. "This way she won't smother."

"Smother?" Mr. Salt seemed to be having trouble keeping up.

"Oh, we have to bring a lift in to get her down. It'll take a bit. Here, go get the lift and help Mr. Salt get his little girl unstuck."

The Oompa-Loompa nodded and left, while another tapped Mr. Salt on the leg.

"They'll take care of you. Have a nice day!"

How can he be so calm about it? Three of us kids have been trapped by things in his factory, and he just goes on as if nothing is wrong. He doesn't even check to make sure they're not hurt by whatever got them!

In the elevator once again, Mokuba glanced up at his brother and was surprised to see that Kaiba seemed tense.

Seto's worried, like he's expecting something to happen. But why would he be worried? Unless . . . Mokuba looked around the elevator. Willy Wonka was watching him and Charlie with an oddly intent expression.

"Huh. Three of you."

What if he was expecting something to happen to one of us, like the other kids?

"Well . . . that was unexpected."

It's like a tournament and we're being eliminated, one by one.

"And remember, one of you lucky five children will receive an extra prize beyond your wildest imagination."

Mokuba started. That's it! This whole tour is a process of elimination! The last kid left is the one who's going to get the prize! But that means either Charlie or I have to be eliminated first. No wonder Seto's worried!

"Well, what would you two like to see?"

"What's that room?" Charlie asked, pointing to the button labeled Model Homes.

"I'll show you. You know," the candy maker said as the elevator rocketed off sideways, "One time I was hired to build a chocolate palace."

"For Prince Pondicherry?"

"Yeah. Anyway, it got me thinking. Chocolate doesn't work in hot climates, but what about in cold climates? So I took a trip to visit the Eskimos in the far north. And I found that their favorite food was whale blubber. Do you know what that is? It's fat. Really nasty stuff, too. It's chewy and squishy and tastes like the stuff you cut off a ham. But it was the only thing that had enough energy to keep them warm over the cold winters there. So I started a little business making chocolate igloos for them, that they could eat over the winter to stay fat and healthy."

The elevator stopped and they entered a large, chilly room in which Oompa-Loompas in parkas were busy cutting and fitting blocks of chocolate together to form dark brown igloos.

"And then I thought, why stop there? I mean, if the Eskimos like chocolate houses, how about other people in cold areas? I've got chocolate yurts for Mongolia and chocolate wagons with the cutest little chocolate wheels for the Gypsies in the Steppes."

"Wow," said Charlie, "You could build a whole chocolate city!"

"You know, someday I think I will. I'll call it Wonkaburg, and everything will be made entirely of chocolate. I'll have to put it somewhere cold, though. Yeah."

To one side, a small crane was lifting a block of chocolate that suddenly cracked and fell.

"It broke," said Charlie.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes."

An Oompa-Loompa on a tiny bulldozer pushed the pieces back to a wide hole in one corner of the room.

"Where does that hole go?" Charlie asked.

"To the boiler. We remelt the pieces and use the chocolate to make new ones."

"Wow. Come on, Mokuba, let's go look at the houses! I've always wanted to see what a chocolate house looked like."

Mokuba hesitated a moment, then followed Charlie. We just have to be careful, that's all.

"It's all so wonderful," said Grandpa Joe happily.

"If by 'wonderful' you mean 'a complete waste of time', then I agree," Kaiba said dryly. He stalked off after the two boys. He'll try to eliminate one of them in this room. But neither of these boys is likely to give him a reason, which means he'll probably leave it up to chance. And only an idiot with no strategy plays chance cards at such a crucial point.

"Hey, up here!"

Mokuba hurried up the alternating white and dark chocolate stairs after Charlie. There was a whole section of regular sorts of houses, with almond-shingled roofs and peppermint columns on the porch. Gumdrops sat in place of bushes and the rooms were carpeted in a matted felt made of cotton candy. All sorts of designs were stamped and swirled into the walls in place of wallpaper, and candy furniture glistened in rainbow-hued, sugary promise.

This is so cool! It's like something out of a fairy tale!

"Look, Mokuba," Charlie was standing on a small balcony, "You can see over the whole town!"

"Woah."

"And look–there's Grandpa Joe and Mr. Wonka, and your brother in the street there. Grandpa!" Charlie leaned out, waving.

Mokuba laughed and waved as well.

"Seto!"

Blue eyes widened suddenly.

"Mokuba! Look out!"

"Huh?" Mokuba looked around, then down. A blast of hot air struck him and he caught his breath as he realized the balcony was hanging out over the chute to the boiler. But heat melts chocolate! He turned to look behind him, only to see a crack widening in the chocolate where the balcony attached to the house.

"Get off there!" his brother shouted, racing across the candy grass.

No time. His brain had processed the rate of the crack's growth even as he remembered Charlie was standing on the balcony beside him. Oh no!

"Charlie!"

In a movement of pure instinct, he grabbed the smaller boy, slinging him bodily across the balcony into the house. Even as he did so, the balcony tore loose with muted rip and tumbled into the abyss. Mokuba fell after it, flailing at the hot, chocolate-smelling air.

"Seto!"

"Mokuba!" Kaiba sprinted towards the chute, calculating angle and distance as he ran. He reached the edge and shot into the air, every muscle straining to propel him fast enough to reach the falling boy.

I'm going to fall into the boiler! He would be drowned and boiled alive, all at the same time. No, Seto will save me–he always has! Big Brother!

There was a rustle of coattails and a flash of black and white, then a powerful hand gripped Mokuba's wrist and he felt himself jerked towards the edge of the chute. They slammed into the wall, but instead of falling, Mokuba felt himself hanging in place as waves of warm air rose around them.

"Seto!" he gasped.

Kaiba had caught the lip of the chute with his free hand.

"I've got you, Mokuba."

"Mokuba!" Charlie bent over the edge where the balcony had been, staring down into the darkness of the chute.

"Charlie! Are you all right?" Grandpa Joe called anxiously.

Up on the street, Willy Wonka shook his head. "Oh dear. Well, we'll just have to fish them out before they drown."

He waved over an Oompa-Loompa.

The initial moment of relief over, Kaiba felt rage flood his system, sending power coursing through his veins in furious waves. A boiler full of molten chocolate–even someone who could swim might easily drown in a thicker, heavier liquid, not to mention the severe burns they'd get all over their body. If that twitching freak thinks he can do that to my little brother, he's wrong! With a grunt of exertion, he threw Mokuba up over the edge to land safely among the gumdrop bushes. You wanna play rough, candy man?

Willy Wonka started when the dark-haired boy came hurtling out of the chute and Grandpa Joe gaped when Kaiba swung himself easily over the edge, standing up with coattails flaring behind him in the hot air rising from the boiler. Blue eyes burned with a fury that had made duelists and boards of directors alike cower.

"The game's over, Wonka," he said with a snarl, "You may have eliminated the other kids fairly through their greed, but you've got no excuse for trying to harm my little brother!"

Five thousand years before, Seto's spirit had been that of a high priest trained in duel magic. Now, the sheer force of his anger sent the candy maker reeling back a few paces while the nearby Oompa-Loompas scurried for cover.

Uh-oh, he's really mad now. Mokuba winced. When Seto was in this mood, he wouldn't be satisfied until he'd crushed whoever had angered him. I thought this would be a great day, that we'd have fun together like we did when we were little. But it's all turned into a greedy, grabbing competition. I don't care about the prize, I just want my brother–I want the old Seto back.

"If you want to try eliminating somebody, why don't you try eliminating me?" Kaiba's hand shot out in an instinctive, slamming gesture. Fury poured along it, knocking Willy Wonka back another step. Fortunately, without a Millennium item to focus his power, Kaiba's attack did no real damage.

Mokuba scrambled to his feet. It's happening again–just like the Battle City finals! There's something that comes over my brother and Yugi and Bakura and some of the others–something really dark and scary! I hate seeing that look in his eyes, I want my big brother back!

"Seto!" Mokuba caught his brother's outstretched hand, "Please stop. Let's go home; I don't want to see any more. Please, Big Brother?"

Kaiba glared at the candy maker through the boiling rage inside. I've crushed little fools like Wonka with one phone call. Who does he think he's messing with? I succeeded in a hostile takeover of a multi-million dollar company when I was Mokuba's age–I'm Seto Kaiba, not some idiot parent of a selfish brat.

The thought seemed to burn deep inside. Darkness, flames, destruction–crush anyone who stands in my way, hurl them into the dark void I've came through! Show them what pain, what loneliness really is. Make them suffer!

And like a beacon in the night, Mokuba's voice came pleading through the firestorm of rage.

"Please, Seto. Let's just go home."

Mokuba's hands on his arm, the trusting eyes he could feel turned up at him, pure and undimmed by hate or revenge. Mokuba. Gritting his teeth, Kaiba forced the burning rage back behind the steely bars of self-discipline. He turned away with a snort.

"Fine. We've wasted enough time here already."

Charlie had come back out of the house and was standing with his grandfather, a sad, confused expression on his face. Mokuba looked at him for a moment in regret. I think we could have been friends.

"Thank you for the tour, Mr. Wonka," he said. "I hope everything works out for you."

"Are you coming?" his brother growled.

Mokuba ran after him, turning back for a last look at the chocolate world behind them. Mr. Wonka doesn't understand bringing people together, he thought sadly, he just knows how to split them apart. He must be very lonely.

Willy Wonka shivered and resettled his hat. "What a nasty, creepy guy. I can't imagine why his brother would want to be around him." He turned to an Oompa-Loompa, "See that they get right out, okay? We don't want him around the chocolate, it'll pick up all that nasty bitterness and taste terrible."

The Oompa-Loompa disappeared and the candy maker shook himself briefly.

"Well. We must move on. There's still so much left to see. Now, how many children are left?"

"Mr. Wonka," Grandpa Joe said respectfully, "Charlie's the only one left now."

"You mean, you're the only one?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes."

"What happened to the others? Oh, my dear boy, but that mean's you've won. Oh, I do congratulate you. I really do. I'm absolutely delighted. I had a hunch you know, right from the beginning. Well done. Now, we mustn't dilly, or dally. Because we have an enormous number of things to do before the day's out. But luckily for us, we have the great glass elevator to speed things al–" There was a solid thunk as he walked directly into the elevator door. "Speed things along," he finished, picking himself up. "Come on."

Outside the factory, Augustus squelched down the path beside his mother, dripping with chocolate and licking his hands.

"Augustus, please, don't eat your fingers."

"But I taste so good," the fat boy protested.

Violet, once again her normal size but still completely blue, turned back flips and cartwheels with uncanny dexterity.

"Look, Mother. I'm much more flexible now!"

"Yes, but you're blue."

Veruca and Mr. Salt were covered in sticky red goo from the ceiling. Above them, the great glass elevator hovered briefly with Willy Wonka, Charlie, and Grandpa Joe inside.

"Daddy, I want a flying glass elevator."

"Veruca," Mr. Salt said sternly, "the only thing you're getting today is a bath, and that's final."

"But I want it."

Her father glared down at her, for the first time matching the determination in her eyes.

As the elevator rose into the sky, there was a distant, purring rumble and something sleek and blue and dragon-shaped soared past far overhead, against the sun.

It's a dragon, Charlie thought, looking up. That must be Mokuba. I hope he's okay. I can't imagine living with a brother that gets mad like that.

The first few hours passed in silence. Mokuba waited patiently until the atmosphere began to thaw; he knew from experience there was no point in trying to talk to Seto when he was like this.

"Seto?" he said at last.

"What?" the answer was a snap, but it was habitual, not angry.

"When Charlie and I were on the balcony, I didn't even think when I threw him off. And I remember wondering why it seemed like the natural thing to do."

"You almost ended up in the boiler."

"I know. But the thing is, I wasn't really afraid of that. Because I knew that you would save me, Seto. I knew you were there, and that you wouldn't let me fall."

Kaiba didn't answer.

"I hope you don't feel bad that things turned out this way," Mokuba continued, "Because while I did want to see a chocolate factory, what I wanted most was to spend time with you, Big Brother. I wanted the two of us to go somewhere, with no corporation, no duelists, no work hanging over us. It's not that I don't like what we do, I just miss spending time with you. You're not mad, are you?"

"No." Kaiba stared out at the night sky ahead of them. Taking the world on alone left little time to spend on the one person he really needed. His reverie was interrupted when a clatter of buckles and a rustle behind him indicated major movement.

"Mokuba? What are you doing?" he demanded as the younger boy climbed carefully around the pilot's seat and slid down into his lap.

Mokuba looked up at him with an earnest expression, curling his fingers around the stiff lapels of the white coat.

"I don't need anything else in the world as long as you're there with me, Seto. And as long as we're together, nothing bad is ever going to keep us down."

"Hm." Kaiba smiled, and for a rare moment there was nothing cold or bitter in his face.

Mokuba smiled back, then rested his head against his brother's chest and closed his eyes. I guess today was a good day, after all.

Kaiba put a gentle hand on Mokuba's head. You're all that keeps the darkness from overcoming me, Mokuba. I need your smile to keep on living; I promise I will never let anything happen to you.

"Hey, Seto, look at this!"

Kaiba glanced up from his computer to see Mokuba glued to the television again.

"You know how Willy Wonka's candy hasn't been selling well the last few months?"

Kaiba nodded. The candy maker had even tried introducing one of his new products with the Television Chocolate, but the invention hadn't made it past the beta testing. It turned out that the matter to energy and back conversion, already a lossy process, became utterly unusable when magnified over more than twenty television sets. Candy bars came out so small it took a magnifying glass to see them.

Why he couldn't tell that from his previous tests is beyond me. It was patently obvious from the shrinkage of the candy bar that the conversion used up too much of the energy in the process; putting the extra energy into the system to compensate would be impossible on the scale he was planning on. The theory's been proposed before and it always hits the same problem.

"Well guess what," Mokuba continued, "he just took Charlie on as his business partner, and Charlie and his whole family are moving to the factory with him!"

"Why anyone would want to live in that asylum is beyond me."

"I'm sure Charlie will love it. But this means Mr. Wonka must have gotten over whatever he had against families–they'll all be okay now, I just know it."

"Now you're starting to sound like Yugi," his brother said dismissively.

Mokuba laughed and switched off the television. "Don't worry, Seto. I'm not going to start talking about friendship. Besides," he pointed at the clock, "It's time for your daily dueling practice. I'll race you to the lab!"

Kaiba stood up with a snort.

"I know what time it is. I was just finishing the code for a new section; I'll try it out today."

"All right! What is it?" Mokuba asked as they headed down the hall.

"It's a new building for the robot world–the Factory of Choices. Every level has a bunch of options for what you can do. Make the selfish choice and you activate a trap card. Make the unselfish choice and you move one step closer to the end."

"And what's the prize for finishing?"

Kaiba smirked. "The Pot of Greed."

Thanks for reading! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. And thank you to everyone who posted feedback, it's been a big help. ^_^