Wilma's Chocolate Factory: Chapter 1
Wilma’s Factory: Chapter One
It has often been said that the truth is most often hidden in plain sight. Nowhere else was this more true than the Wilma Candy Company. A cursory glance of Wilma might indeed have revealed the truth about her to anyone. She was an old woman, her features distorted by frizzy gray hair, a large nose, crooked teeth, bloodshot eyes, and bony fingers. She insisted in wearing only drab robes and strange hats. In short, she looked like a witch – which is exactly what she was.
Wilma slumped forward in chair, resting her elbows on her massive, solid marble desk. As the CEO of the Wilma Candy Company, she had money and power. Yet, her deepest cravings hadn’t been sated in quite some time. Like witches of old, Wilma longed to lure young people to their ruin through candy. And yet the circumstances of the modern world seemed stacked against her. Thanks to nationwide panic about sex offenders, kids were mortally afraid of accepting candy from strangers. The old ways were simply obsolete.
For many, many years, Wilma simply made do without. But as the years wore on, she became increasingly frustrated, especially with the teenagers. She was stuck with a perpetually old body, one that would scare children and repulse potential male partners, while young teenagers flaunted their good looks everywhere. Yet she had no way of getting to them, no way to teach them about humility or modesty. All ways to bring them down were out of her grasp.
Wilma didn’t know it yet, but a presentation from the company marketing director was about to change everything. Brent Mullins, a tall, good looking man who had advanced through the company quickly, entered her office almost exactly the moment the hand of her antique brooch clicked to noon.
“Greetings, Ms. Wonka,” Brent began in his rich baritone voice, “Is this still a good time?”
“Go ahead, Brent,” Wilma croaked out. In the past, it might have occurred to her to try to flirt with, or even cast a spell on a man like Brent, but her self confidence was so low that his good looks barely even registered to her.
“Well, as you know, sales are down for this quarter. This is following 6 consecutive quarters of declining numbers,” Brent began. Wilma couldn’t care less. What good was the health of the company when what she really wanted seemed eternally out of her reach?
“Well,” Brent continued, when he realized no reply was coming, “I think the best way to reverse this trend is to start a new marketing push. I was thinking of some kind of contest. We could give the winners a special ticket, and prizes. Maybe cash, free candy for a year, maybe a scholarship prize for the college crowd, or a tour of our candy factories…” Wilma’s pointy ears immediately perked up.
“I love that idea!” She shouted out, clearly startling Brent. “When can we start?”
Brent’s scheme was clever. Four silver tickets were inserted into a random bar of Wilma’s chocolate. Four teenagers would be tasting humiliation in their sweets. She controlled the age group by adding a scholarship to the prize. Maybe they’d be spoiled little rich girls, used to their daddy’s cash to pay for most things but wanting a bit more money. Maybe they’d be know it all overachievers who needed that money to afford school. It didn’t matter to Wilma – she’d give them the cash, but she’d teach them a lesson, too.
A few weeks later, the four silver tickets had been drawn, and Wilma was pleased to find that all four of the winners were college aged young women. She had a feeling that they’d be the right sort of women, and she was right.
~
Amy was typical spoiled brat. She was 18 and had just been accepted to Vanderbuilt – the 13th most expensive school in the United States. Her father was rich, but 55k grand a year was a bit much, and with Amy’s grades not good enough for a scholarship, he needed some help. She refused to even consider working her way through school, and so it was her father that suggested she buy the fateful bar of chocolate when he saw the promotion.
“Daddy,” she whined as her father tossed the confection bar into the shopping cart. “You know I don’t eat chocolate anymore. I’ve got my perfect figure to protect,” Amy said, as she looked down at her svelte body and pricey clothes. She didn’t remove the candy bar, though, and as soon as they were in the car, her sweet tooth got the better of her. She tore open the bar and the silver ticket fluttered out.
“You’ve won a scholarship and a tour of the Wilma chocolate factory,” her father read.
“A tour of the chocolate factory?” Amy said, her mouth already full with half of the bar of chocolate. “That’s just what I need to help me with my willpower. Show up at a chocolate factory and then put on a few pounds for college. No way!”
“It says you have to take the tour to get the scholarship. If you do this, your mother and I can afford to get you a car,” her Dad bargained. Amy’s ears perked up instantly.
“Deal!” She squealed.
~
Melanie won her ticket while trick our treating on Halloween. At 19, she was a little old to be out getting candy, but Melanie couldn’t give up the idea of free sweets. Melanie was a trailer-trash, bucktoothed girl who got lots of attention from guys for her figure. She was thin, but had a massive bust and a womanly walk that drew the men’s stares away from her bad teeth. Short on cash and IQ points, she relished the idea of the trip primarily for the free candy she assumed she would get.
“You know, you shouldn’t have too much candy,” her mother, an overweight woman, warned. “Your metabolism might not keep up with you when you get older.”
“Oh, that’s ages away. I think I’m going to be young and thin for a very long time,” Melanie insisted as she eyed the shining ticket.
~
Malory was a 20 year old English student who was attending college in the United States as part of a study abroad program. Meticulous and well organized, she excelled in her studies, but had a hard time making friends due to her stuck up attitude. She came from a very prestigious family in Britain, and everywhere she went she carried her sense of entitlement. It probably didn’t help matters that she was so good looking – she thought it was just one other thing that made her better than everyone else.
She was eating lunch with a friend who pulled out a couple of candy bars, and Malory immediately demanded one. Not because she actually wanted to eat candy, but because she felt like everything that wasn’t hers ought to be.
“Susan, give me one of those candy bars,” Malory demanded in her posh accent.
“They say there’s a chance for a prize. I want to win,” Susan complained.
“The odds of winning those things are one in a million,” Malory countered. “Surely you don’t think that someone like you would be the lucky winner,” Malory remarked, while gesturing at her friend’s less than perfect figure.
“Still,” Susan insisted. “I could use that scholarship money.”
“Fine, fine,” Malory conceded. “I’ll give you the prize if it’s the winning bar, deal?”
“Alright,” Susan reluctantly conceded as she handed the bar over to her thinner friend. “I probably shouldn’t have two candy bars for lunch anyway,” she said with a sigh.
“That’s the spirit,” Malory said as she opened the bar. “Oh my goodness!” Malory cried out. “I won! I won!”
“You mean, I won,” Susan quickly yelled out. “You promised me…”
“To hell with that,” Malory said. “Finders keepers!” she shouted as she dashed off.
~
Charlize was an introverted girl who spent much of her time alone. A nerd and an outcast, she often spent time reading Harry Potter in her attic and wishing she had been selected to go to Hogwarts while she was growing up. She also had a flair for the dramatic arts and loved acting in plays, although she didn’t always work well with others her own age. Their immaturity and boisterousness often annoyed Charlize, who had been described as “an old soul” by adults for as long as she could remember.
She was 19 and attending a small college known for its dramatic arts major, but she hadn’t landed any roles as an actress on the stage yet. She felt awkward and out of sorts often, and had to settle for “techie” work backstage to remain part of the production. The ability to control the lights had a little appeal, but what she really wanted was to sit in the director’s chair, controlling everyone in the production. Or perhaps she belonged behind a writer’s desk, composing the next play, dictating everyone’s roles in advance. She wasn’t quite sure where she belonged just yet, but she knew in her bones she was destined for something more than this.
Charlize brought the fateful candy bar backstage. She was a thin girl, but not because of healthy choices on her part. Charlize had a lightning fast metabolism and often would skip dinner and nibble on candy instead. The combination of her makeup-less face, bony body, and youthful expressions often made her look far younger than she was, which she had hated for years. When she opened the candy, she was excited mainly because the trip it provided served as a way to escape the play, which had grown stale and boring of late. And, of course, she loved chocolate.
~
When the four girls met at the front of the Wilma chocolate factory a month later, they weren’t exactly sure what to expect. A car had picked each of them up from the airport and had dropped them off in front of a big sign with the Wilma logo without any explanation.
For a long time the girls said nothing to each other, simply staring and sizing each other up. It was obvious that these were not the type of girls that would have made friends if they had met at school. Melanie’s obvious low-class origins would have put off Amy and Malory immediately, whereas Charlize’s lack of a fashion sense and unusual hair would have set off the warning bells of all three. Amy and Malory were the kind of girls who might have been friends, if it weren’t for the fact that they would have been bitter rivals.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, a door opened on the side of the building, and a very short man wearing an gnome-like costume greeted them. “Madame Wilma will see you now,” he croaked out.
“Nice costume, you git,” Malory said under her breath as she passed the dwarf. The man, evidently hearing her, scowled back at her.
There was nothing at all in the first room the girls entered, only a black hallway. The only notable thing about the room was the ominous noise the door made when the dwarf slammed it shut behind them. Lights illuminated a door at the end of the hallway when this occurred, and the girls silently made their way towards it.
When they opened the door, they were greeted by the sight of a large cauldron, and behind it, a stooped over, witchy looking old woman.
“Ah, you’ve arrived,” she said with a small cackle. “Welcome to my chocolate factory.”
~
“You look like the Wilma mascot from the candy wrapper!” Malory exclaimed.
“I am she,” Wilma confirmed.
“But, that just can’t be right,” Amy said. “She’s just a cartoon.”
“Here in the flesh today,” Wilma said, smiling.
“The Wilma candy company is 153 years old, and has been using you as a slogan for the entire duration,” Charlize began. “Surely you can’t expect…”
“No more questions,” Wilma said, cutting her off. “Time instead to listen. All of you have been chosen to enjoy a tour of my factory. All of you will receive free candy for you to consume at the end of the tour, and each of you will receive a modest scholarship to the education of your choice. Only one of you, however, will get the chance to have the rest of your entire education paid for, and to have an internship with me in…this business.” Wilma stated. “There are a few rules you need to keep in mind. Do not break away from the group. Do not eat any candy until the end of the tour, when the finished products of everything you see will be made available to you. And please do not touch anything unless I give you explicit permission. Are we clear?”
“We can’t have any candy until after? But I’m hungry,” Melanie griped.
“Those are the rules. Eating the candy while it is still being made would be…unhygienic. Come on, girls. Let’s go.” Wilma said as she gave the mysterious bubbling cauldron a little stir.
“What’s in there? It sure doesn’t smell like chocolate,” Charlize asked.
“A…special kind of cupcake frosting,” Wilma said coyly. She produced a cupcake from her robes and dipped it into the cauldron. “It’s very…unique.”
“Whatever it is, I want some!” Melanie shouted out. “It smells great. Sorry miss Wilma, but I’m just too hungry. I can’t wait!”
The other girls were surprised as Wilma did not try to stop Melanie stretching out her hand and swiping the cupcake. She took a bite, and swallowed it down.
“Mmmm…” Melanie moaned out loud. “So good! That’s got to be the best cupcake I’ve ever had!” She stopped her praise of the confectionary, though, when she saw the other girls staring at her wide-eyed.
“What? Why are you staring? What’s going on?” Melanie demanded.
Wilma’s mouth started to turn into a mean looking smile.
“Why are you staring like that,” Melanie asked, full of panic. “What’s going to happen to me?”
~
It has often been said that the truth is most often hidden in plain sight. Nowhere else was this more true than the Wilma Candy Company. A cursory glance of Wilma might indeed have revealed the truth about her to anyone. She was an old woman, her features distorted by frizzy gray hair, a large nose, crooked teeth, bloodshot eyes, and bony fingers. She insisted in wearing only drab robes and strange hats. In short, she looked like a witch – which is exactly what she was.
Wilma slumped forward in chair, resting her elbows on her massive, solid marble desk. As the CEO of the Wilma Candy Company, she had money and power. Yet, her deepest cravings hadn’t been sated in quite some time. Like witches of old, Wilma longed to lure young people to their ruin through candy. And yet the circumstances of the modern world seemed stacked against her. Thanks to nationwide panic about sex offenders, kids were mortally afraid of accepting candy from strangers. The old ways were simply obsolete.
For many, many years, Wilma simply made do without. But as the years wore on, she became increasingly frustrated, especially with the teenagers. She was stuck with a perpetually old body, one that would scare children and repulse potential male partners, while young teenagers flaunted their good looks everywhere. Yet she had no way of getting to them, no way to teach them about humility or modesty. All ways to bring them down were out of her grasp.
Wilma didn’t know it yet, but a presentation from the company marketing director was about to change everything. Brent Mullins, a tall, good looking man who had advanced through the company quickly, entered her office almost exactly the moment the hand of her antique brooch clicked to noon.
“Greetings, Ms. Wonka,” Brent began in his rich baritone voice, “Is this still a good time?”
“Go ahead, Brent,” Wilma croaked out. In the past, it might have occurred to her to try to flirt with, or even cast a spell on a man like Brent, but her self confidence was so low that his good looks barely even registered to her.
“Well, as you know, sales are down for this quarter. This is following 6 consecutive quarters of declining numbers,” Brent began. Wilma couldn’t care less. What good was the health of the company when what she really wanted seemed eternally out of her reach?
“Well,” Brent continued, when he realized no reply was coming, “I think the best way to reverse this trend is to start a new marketing push. I was thinking of some kind of contest. We could give the winners a special ticket, and prizes. Maybe cash, free candy for a year, maybe a scholarship prize for the college crowd, or a tour of our candy factories…” Wilma’s pointy ears immediately perked up.
“I love that idea!” She shouted out, clearly startling Brent. “When can we start?”
Brent’s scheme was clever. Four silver tickets were inserted into a random bar of Wilma’s chocolate. Four teenagers would be tasting humiliation in their sweets. She controlled the age group by adding a scholarship to the prize. Maybe they’d be spoiled little rich girls, used to their daddy’s cash to pay for most things but wanting a bit more money. Maybe they’d be know it all overachievers who needed that money to afford school. It didn’t matter to Wilma – she’d give them the cash, but she’d teach them a lesson, too.
A few weeks later, the four silver tickets had been drawn, and Wilma was pleased to find that all four of the winners were college aged young women. She had a feeling that they’d be the right sort of women, and she was right.
~
Amy was typical spoiled brat. She was 18 and had just been accepted to Vanderbuilt – the 13th most expensive school in the United States. Her father was rich, but 55k grand a year was a bit much, and with Amy’s grades not good enough for a scholarship, he needed some help. She refused to even consider working her way through school, and so it was her father that suggested she buy the fateful bar of chocolate when he saw the promotion.
“Daddy,” she whined as her father tossed the confection bar into the shopping cart. “You know I don’t eat chocolate anymore. I’ve got my perfect figure to protect,” Amy said, as she looked down at her svelte body and pricey clothes. She didn’t remove the candy bar, though, and as soon as they were in the car, her sweet tooth got the better of her. She tore open the bar and the silver ticket fluttered out.
“You’ve won a scholarship and a tour of the Wilma chocolate factory,” her father read.
“A tour of the chocolate factory?” Amy said, her mouth already full with half of the bar of chocolate. “That’s just what I need to help me with my willpower. Show up at a chocolate factory and then put on a few pounds for college. No way!”
“It says you have to take the tour to get the scholarship. If you do this, your mother and I can afford to get you a car,” her Dad bargained. Amy’s ears perked up instantly.
“Deal!” She squealed.
~
Melanie won her ticket while trick our treating on Halloween. At 19, she was a little old to be out getting candy, but Melanie couldn’t give up the idea of free sweets. Melanie was a trailer-trash, bucktoothed girl who got lots of attention from guys for her figure. She was thin, but had a massive bust and a womanly walk that drew the men’s stares away from her bad teeth. Short on cash and IQ points, she relished the idea of the trip primarily for the free candy she assumed she would get.
“You know, you shouldn’t have too much candy,” her mother, an overweight woman, warned. “Your metabolism might not keep up with you when you get older.”
“Oh, that’s ages away. I think I’m going to be young and thin for a very long time,” Melanie insisted as she eyed the shining ticket.
~
Malory was a 20 year old English student who was attending college in the United States as part of a study abroad program. Meticulous and well organized, she excelled in her studies, but had a hard time making friends due to her stuck up attitude. She came from a very prestigious family in Britain, and everywhere she went she carried her sense of entitlement. It probably didn’t help matters that she was so good looking – she thought it was just one other thing that made her better than everyone else.
She was eating lunch with a friend who pulled out a couple of candy bars, and Malory immediately demanded one. Not because she actually wanted to eat candy, but because she felt like everything that wasn’t hers ought to be.
“Susan, give me one of those candy bars,” Malory demanded in her posh accent.
“They say there’s a chance for a prize. I want to win,” Susan complained.
“The odds of winning those things are one in a million,” Malory countered. “Surely you don’t think that someone like you would be the lucky winner,” Malory remarked, while gesturing at her friend’s less than perfect figure.
“Still,” Susan insisted. “I could use that scholarship money.”
“Fine, fine,” Malory conceded. “I’ll give you the prize if it’s the winning bar, deal?”
“Alright,” Susan reluctantly conceded as she handed the bar over to her thinner friend. “I probably shouldn’t have two candy bars for lunch anyway,” she said with a sigh.
“That’s the spirit,” Malory said as she opened the bar. “Oh my goodness!” Malory cried out. “I won! I won!”
“You mean, I won,” Susan quickly yelled out. “You promised me…”
“To hell with that,” Malory said. “Finders keepers!” she shouted as she dashed off.
~
Charlize was an introverted girl who spent much of her time alone. A nerd and an outcast, she often spent time reading Harry Potter in her attic and wishing she had been selected to go to Hogwarts while she was growing up. She also had a flair for the dramatic arts and loved acting in plays, although she didn’t always work well with others her own age. Their immaturity and boisterousness often annoyed Charlize, who had been described as “an old soul” by adults for as long as she could remember.
She was 19 and attending a small college known for its dramatic arts major, but she hadn’t landed any roles as an actress on the stage yet. She felt awkward and out of sorts often, and had to settle for “techie” work backstage to remain part of the production. The ability to control the lights had a little appeal, but what she really wanted was to sit in the director’s chair, controlling everyone in the production. Or perhaps she belonged behind a writer’s desk, composing the next play, dictating everyone’s roles in advance. She wasn’t quite sure where she belonged just yet, but she knew in her bones she was destined for something more than this.
Charlize brought the fateful candy bar backstage. She was a thin girl, but not because of healthy choices on her part. Charlize had a lightning fast metabolism and often would skip dinner and nibble on candy instead. The combination of her makeup-less face, bony body, and youthful expressions often made her look far younger than she was, which she had hated for years. When she opened the candy, she was excited mainly because the trip it provided served as a way to escape the play, which had grown stale and boring of late. And, of course, she loved chocolate.
~
When the four girls met at the front of the Wilma chocolate factory a month later, they weren’t exactly sure what to expect. A car had picked each of them up from the airport and had dropped them off in front of a big sign with the Wilma logo without any explanation.
For a long time the girls said nothing to each other, simply staring and sizing each other up. It was obvious that these were not the type of girls that would have made friends if they had met at school. Melanie’s obvious low-class origins would have put off Amy and Malory immediately, whereas Charlize’s lack of a fashion sense and unusual hair would have set off the warning bells of all three. Amy and Malory were the kind of girls who might have been friends, if it weren’t for the fact that they would have been bitter rivals.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, a door opened on the side of the building, and a very short man wearing an gnome-like costume greeted them. “Madame Wilma will see you now,” he croaked out.
“Nice costume, you git,” Malory said under her breath as she passed the dwarf. The man, evidently hearing her, scowled back at her.
There was nothing at all in the first room the girls entered, only a black hallway. The only notable thing about the room was the ominous noise the door made when the dwarf slammed it shut behind them. Lights illuminated a door at the end of the hallway when this occurred, and the girls silently made their way towards it.
When they opened the door, they were greeted by the sight of a large cauldron, and behind it, a stooped over, witchy looking old woman.
“Ah, you’ve arrived,” she said with a small cackle. “Welcome to my chocolate factory.”
~
“You look like the Wilma mascot from the candy wrapper!” Malory exclaimed.
“I am she,” Wilma confirmed.
“But, that just can’t be right,” Amy said. “She’s just a cartoon.”
“Here in the flesh today,” Wilma said, smiling.
“The Wilma candy company is 153 years old, and has been using you as a slogan for the entire duration,” Charlize began. “Surely you can’t expect…”
“No more questions,” Wilma said, cutting her off. “Time instead to listen. All of you have been chosen to enjoy a tour of my factory. All of you will receive free candy for you to consume at the end of the tour, and each of you will receive a modest scholarship to the education of your choice. Only one of you, however, will get the chance to have the rest of your entire education paid for, and to have an internship with me in…this business.” Wilma stated. “There are a few rules you need to keep in mind. Do not break away from the group. Do not eat any candy until the end of the tour, when the finished products of everything you see will be made available to you. And please do not touch anything unless I give you explicit permission. Are we clear?”
“We can’t have any candy until after? But I’m hungry,” Melanie griped.
“Those are the rules. Eating the candy while it is still being made would be…unhygienic. Come on, girls. Let’s go.” Wilma said as she gave the mysterious bubbling cauldron a little stir.
“What’s in there? It sure doesn’t smell like chocolate,” Charlize asked.
“A…special kind of cupcake frosting,” Wilma said coyly. She produced a cupcake from her robes and dipped it into the cauldron. “It’s very…unique.”
“Whatever it is, I want some!” Melanie shouted out. “It smells great. Sorry miss Wilma, but I’m just too hungry. I can’t wait!”
The other girls were surprised as Wilma did not try to stop Melanie stretching out her hand and swiping the cupcake. She took a bite, and swallowed it down.
“Mmmm…” Melanie moaned out loud. “So good! That’s got to be the best cupcake I’ve ever had!” She stopped her praise of the confectionary, though, when she saw the other girls staring at her wide-eyed.
“What? Why are you staring? What’s going on?” Melanie demanded.
Wilma’s mouth started to turn into a mean looking smile.
“Why are you staring like that,” Melanie asked, full of panic. “What’s going to happen to me?”
~