The Golden Ticket Curse | By : Idolhands Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 2187 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: The Golden Ticket Curse
By: IDOL HANDS, who occasionally touches down but never truly lands
Rating: Mature Demented Audiences
Warnings: For dramatic themes, slash, dark humor, violence, a swear word and character death (but who?)
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are not my property but that of the estate of Rahl Dahl, Tim Burton, Freddie Highmore, Jordan Fry, and the ever-lovin' Johnny Depp.
Summary: Gather 'round children for I have a tale to tell, about a naughty little boy who didn't take his lesson very well.
"A short story told in verse"
In the solitude of a sleepless night,
In the deepest of my abandoned fright,
Like a thing possessed on tip-toe I ran,
Following a way that only paper people can,
Slipping through the cage of towering gates,
Imagining where an unsuspecting victim awaits.
Giant locked doors too prove no match,
To a person adroit at picking a latch,
Or untangling the most complex of codes,
Beating video games on their hardest of modes.
Inside the factory dimensions flip over and refold,
But blueprints reveal the spot marked bold.
Years of hacking through cyberspace,
Allow me to cut through mazes to his secret place.
Miniature people from Loompaland do not detect,
A person they probably can’t even recollect,
Hidden in curtained shadow or beneath fanciful rugs,
Freak shows creep and freak shows crawl like alien bugs.
Careful to keep everything within his jaded view,
On people below the charcoal smoke does spew,
No kindness was in those cold violet eyes,
Forever determined to keep out thieving spies.
Ah, but it’s not your recipes I desire to take,
It’s your misbegotten life which is truly at stake!
Eyeglasses, a coat, top hat and a cane,
Nothing has changed; he looks eerily the same,
A sickening reminder of days from yore,
When each met an awful fate on that famous tour,
Round and round on a perverse carousel of fun,
Our childhoods were over before the day was done.
Mom & Dad couldn’t fix the inside of my head,
The same was true for the strange body being fed,
Food pressed into wispy thin sheets,
Clothes ironed crisper than Catholic school pleats,
The chocolatier’s magic did not work twice,
Flattened parents paid a very heavy price,
Laws of physics bend at his mere wish,
How was I to know they would just go squish?
Now a wanted refugee, now a scandalous criminal,
My brain entertains darkest messages subliminal,
With heaven’s might and purgatory’s will,
There was nothing left to do but finally kill,
He who started this never-ending nightmare,
He who made an existence so hopeless to bear.
A sugary menagerie of overindulgence inside his bedroom,
A fantasy palace soon to become his rotting tomb
Everywhere walls are covered in revealing mirrors,
Turning sideways though my body disappears,
Closer and closer I’m careful not to blunder,
Would even his flesh taste of chocolate I always did wonder.
A dandy pose, a graceful bow ends with a blazing smile,
The reflection mimics in perfect exaggerated style,
One gloved hand to the glass, one opposite hand follows suit,
A crazy laugh echoes while the twin naturally stays mute,
Goggles are removed to reveal those enchanted eyes,
Ones Filled with promises of candy-covered lies.
A moment longer and I’ll be sick,
Silently causing the cock of my gun to flick,
The form leans in and continues to fuss,
Like Ancient Rome with its tale of Narcissus.
Hypnotized the man does seem, contained in utter bliss,
Lids flutter close and lips part to kiss.
Time to take this chance to launch an attack,
Beware for this golden ticket winner strikes back!
Shouting as I did before,
I let out with my rebellious roar,
“DIE, DIE, DIiieeee!”
And laugh as the form collapses bleeding to the floor.
To my horrid shock, to my ghastly dismay,
The reflection on the carpet did not equally lay,
“Did you think I didn’t know or suddenly couldn’t see?”
“Did you think a little boy named after a boob tube could fool ME?!”
And from the frame his second body stepped out,
Turning the fallen figure to rest face out,
An exact duplicate in all aspects it would seem,
Until he awoke to reveal irises of blue-green.
Of all the wicked fates sentenced to bear,
The worst of all was saved for his heir,
Through tortured years of devotion and trust,
His love won through manipulation and lust,
Skills of unearthly decree used to hone,
An unnatural doppelganger; Willy Wonka’s perfect clone!
“If I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my body to take,
But heart and soul, and forever do I pledge,
My love beyond time’s accursed edge.”
An English voice traces the committed plea,
What began as one murder has become a spree.
“Hush.” Willy replied as the matching hair was pet,
Once again their two stained mouths passionately met,
Giving me too much opportunity to mull,
I pointed the weapon at Wonka’s demented skull,
“Nothing in 2-D can really say ‘Fuck it’,
Did that ever occur to you while you were busy screwing Charlie Bucket?!”
He only giggled at my deepest pain,
He won’t be doing that again,
A billowing breeze began to blow,
From the end of a tunnel behind the false mirror, it did flow,
My warped body bowed and began to twist,
Fighting a giant propeller fan was never on my enemies list!
“Oh, but wait it only gets better,
For my door you see is actually a giant paper shredder!”
My head easily bent behind my squid-like spine,
As I stared into the demise that was sure to be mine,
Despite my shouts, despite my five missed shots,
The blades spun faster inside the thin slots.
It was clear the carbon copy was safe and sound,
As he lifted himself from the soiled, hard ground.
Tasting the messy red stain, “Snozzberry!”
Charlie did decree, removing his clothes without modesty.
A bulletproof vest shown snugly in place,
Protecting a pulse more valuable than a Ming vase.
The same however could not be said,
On behalf of Mike TeeVee who was quite thoroughly dead.
Every ailment indeed was cured,
By the very place where vengeance lured,
No longer would he worry, no longer would he pout,
For a terrorist’s justice the public wouldn’t bother to shout.
The pair would be off the hook as they had with the others,
Free to be friends by day and at night become lovers.
Ingenuity is the mother of invention,
You will always loose no matter your intention,
Against the one and only confectionary pioneer,
The mysterious vigilante who calls himself a chocolatier.
If anyone was able to listen they’d be sure to hear,
Two identical voices, “Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, everybody give a cheer!”
And why was the author possessed to do everything in rhyme?
I don’t know, I guess I was in the mood to kill some…time *dodges tomatoes*
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