Wonka never thought that he'd ever be attracted to anything other than candy. But when the group of children appeared in front of him and he spotted Charlie he saw something in the boy that reminded him of himself, the boy grew up with nothing but had big dreams of, one day, having everything, and that, to Wonka, was desirable; very desirable indeed. When the children had arrived he stood stiffly in front of them and looked each of them over thoroughly with an awkward, wide grin, but he instantly knew that he wanted Charlie to win. The gears in his head were already moving at full speed, coming up with ways that he could prevent the others from taking the precious boy's rightful place. He was disappointed greatly by the other four. He was upset to see that there were two girls, he would have preferred none, he was disgusted by Augustus, and he despised Mike's attitude. Looking at all of them, having them in his presence, made him feel sick to his delicate stomach. Just then one of the girls, Violet, tugged on the sleeve of his purple velvet jacket, mumbling something. He desperately wanted to smack her hand but refrained from doing so, wouldn't want to frighten poor little Charlie, he gave her a dirty look instead. "Alright, children, let's fill your minds with knowledge, and your tummies with candy!" he addressed them as he spun around on his black dress shoe clad heels, swinging his fanciful cane back and forth, and led the way down a narrow corridor.

He stopped halfway down the corridor and spun swiftly around again, "Oh wait! I almost forgot." He ran his black leather gloved hand along the nearest wall in a dangerously seductive manner with a childish smirk on his face. "If you lick," he said the word bluntly, "the wall, it'll taste like your favorite fruit." He tilted his head and smiled, "Go ahead then." The walls were a deep, bright red and it had a gleam to it, almost like it was hard candy. Of course the only thing Wonka had his eye on was Charlie as everyone moved closer to the walls and studied them. He bit his lip in anticipation as he watched the boy cautiously begin to stick his tongue out; he could see the tip poking through his lips. 'Yes, go on, Charlie, taste it,' he thought to himself. When Charlie finally pressed his tongue to the slick surface, and his eyes grew wide with delight, Wonka let out the breath he had been holding through his nose, uttering a closed mouthed moan, his eyes going half lidded. He noticed that the wetness of the boy's tongue had added even more of a gleam to the already shiny red wall. The chocolatier made his way carefully to his most favored ticket holder and faced the wall, standing right next to the boy with his hand placed to the surface and staring intently at it. He made sure, out of his peripheral, that the boy was looking at him before he moved closer to the wall and ran his own tongue over a spot of it, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Mm..." After a second, with his tongue still to the wall, he looked at Charlie out of the corner of his eyes, the corners of his mouth curling up when he saw the expression on the boy's face. He suddenly brought his tongue back into his mouth and blurted out, "Grape!" Now facing Charlie he licked his lips. "Tell me. What did you taste?" he asked cheerfully.

The boy looked at him nervously and stuttered out, "P-pineapple." But then he relaxed enough to say, "It's always been my favorite. One year, for my birthday, my mum could afford to make a bunt cake with pineapple in it. It was the best!"

The boy's enthusiasm touched Wonka's heart. He looked at Charlie with a spark in his eye, "My dear boy. That is magnificent. You have spectacular taste!" The young boy blushed right before his eyes and Wonka could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed, even more glorious than the swamp marshes of the secret land of Traskimpalt, or the water waves combined with the fuchsia sunset in Cabernatin; even more beautiful than the creamiest chocolate anyone could find or make. He had to take a moment to gaze at the boy before turning and walking briskly away, telling everyone to follow.

At the end of the corridor there was a black metal door that resembled a gate with intricate designs. Wonka opened it and held it open for the five children. On the other side was just a shiny black room about the size of an elevator. When the children went in they felt like they were standing in a black void. Wonka made sure that, after he closed the door, Charlie was the one standing closest to him. He wrapped an arm around the boy from behind and spoke to them all, "Don't be alarmed when you feel some slight pressure, it's just the process of getting from one place to another." His voice was cheery but, like always, it had a dark ring to it. Almost immediately the walls around the group closed in on them and everyone was squished together. Everyone, except for Charlie of course, began to squeal and panic and push at each other. But Charlie felt comforted by Wonka's arm around him, he felt safe. The chocolatier himself was greatly annoyed by all the others' resistance and ruckus, but the closeness of the boy made something spark inside his lower regions causing his mind to be drawn from the existence of the other four for a minute as he savored the position he was in with the boy. Just when they thought things couldn't get any more cramped the walls closed in even more, slowly crushing them. They all feared they were going to die, they couldn't move, couldn't breathe; it was like they were getting swallowed up by a black hole.

Then suddenly there was blinding white light and they were in a huge white room with a giant iron door at one end with a lever on the ground beside it. Wonka let go of Charlie, chuckling a bit, and waltzed over to the lever. With a hand on the lever he looked at the group, "Are you guys ready to feast your eyes upon the most outrageous and incredible sight ever in the history, and future, of your lives?" All five children nodded, wide eyed. Wonka gave an insane grin as he pulled the lever.