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Willy woke up the morning of February 8th feeling content. Content, that's something he hadn't felt much in life. Willy was always on the move, thinking, working, creating. Since the Buckets have moved in however, he developed the ability to slow down and relax.

Willy got out of bed, showered, and dressed in his usual manner. A long coat, nice tailored pants, stylish boots, and his signature top hat. He peered into the mirror and admired his reflection, smoothing any stray hairs he may have. Once he was satisfied with himself he headed down the the Buckets living quarters.

The Buckets no longer lived in their slanted little house. They remained in it for over a year, but soon found themselves feeling cramped. Willy had an apartment built in for them close to where his own living area was. The slanted little house still remains in the chocolate room though, but it now serves more as playhouse or reading room.

Willy walked down the hallway towards the Buckets apartment lightly whistling a tune. He could smell the breakfast Mrs. Bucket has prepared and highly looked forward to it. Once he reached their door he gave it a short rhythmic knock before heading in.
Inside he was greeted with warm smiles from the Bucket family, and a hug from dear Charlie. After 2 years, he now sees Charlie as the son he never had.

Mrs. Bucket asked Willy if he would care for breakfast and he happily accepted the offer. The family sat and chatted while eating the delicious breakfast. Once finished, everyone helped clean up, including Willy. He loved his little family and wanted to help as much as he could.

While standing at the sink helping with the dishes, Willy felt a tug on his coat. He looked down at an Oompa Loompa holding a small stack of envelopes.

"Oh thank you!" Willy said nicely. The mail was sometimes fun to open. Occasionally Willy received mail from fans, which was always nice.

"Anything good today?" Grandpa George questioned.
Willy sorted through the mail. Bill, junk, bill, oh! Something handwritten! "Maybe!" Willy said cheerfully, "this is handwritten. Oh how I love mail from my customers. They are such wonderful people." Willy practically glowed while opening the letter.

"Willy, once you're done reading it, may I see it?" Charlie asked as he looked over Willy's shoulder. "Well of course my boy! Often people mention you and your ideas, so really it's to you as much as it is to me."
Willy finally got the letter open and started reading. Charlie watched his mentor's face while he read, and soon saw the chocolatier's face drop. Soon he had an expression that almost looked like fear. This made Charlie's blood run cold. What could that letter say to make Willy look like that? "Willy, are you okay? What does it say?"

Willy couldn't find words. He could barely breathe. The world around him seemed to slow down, and the air thicken. Who could have sent this, this horrible letter. Charlie approached and Willy snapped out of his trance and jerked the letter down out of his view. This is nothing a child should lay eyes on.

"Charlie, do you mind going to the chocolate room and counting the chocolate flowers? I want to make sure I have enough."  Willy made that request up as he went, he just wanted Charlie out of the room for a moment so he could discuss this letters with the adults of the family.

"But why Willy? What's in that letter?" Charlie asked with a concerned tone.

"Oh, nothing! Nothing important. Boring ole adult stuff. Billing, numbers and whatnot. Go one scoot, go count those flowers!" Willy escorted Charlie to the door while faking a bright smile, trying his hardest to not look concerned about anything.

Charlie looked up at Willy, he was sure that his friend has hiding something, or had finally lost his mind. He respected Willy's request though, and headed on down to the chocolate room.

As soon as Charlie was out, Willy shut and locked the door. He turned around and faced the Bucket family with that fake smile completely gone. The look of fear was back.

"Willy, is everything alright?" Mrs. Bucket asked. "No, I'm afraid it isn't. I don't want anyone to panic or lose their heads, this letter is probably a sick joke, a very sick, unsettling joke." Willy realized he had begun to ramble and looked down at the floor uncomfortably.

"Well, may we see the letter?" Mr. Bucket said while walking up to Willy. "Huh? Yea I guess. I warn you though," Willy said "it's not nice. It has some pretty strong language in it. That's what I didn't want Charlie to see. I don't want to scare him."

"Okay, I think I can handle it Mr. Wonka." Mr. Bucket grabbed the letter from Willy's hands and began reading.

Dear Wonka,

How have you been? Hell why am I asking, I can see that hideous factory and can read the paper. I know you're doing fucking fabulous. I can't believe a little faggot like you made it so big. You don't deserve a single fucking thing that that you have. My father is far better at making candy. He spent his whole life making the best candies I have ever had. The difference between him and you? He's not as flashy and fucking weird as you. He makes classic candies, ones that will be here until the end of time. While you on the other hand make fad candies, ones that are big right now, making your weird ass filthy rich. One day though, your weirdness will go out of fashion. But personally, Im afraid that day won't be soon enough. So I am here to get rid of you. I know that's why I was placed on this earth, to take you down. God told me. He told me that you are a damn demon that was put on earth by Satan to destroy good people like my father. Count your days Wonka, because I will soon send you back to hell where you came from.




Mr. Bucket finished the letter and was taken back by it's words. This is the ramblings of a deeply disturbed individual. He looked up at Willy who still looked frightened. "Mr. Wonka, this is indeed, um, disturbing to say the least. But let's not panic just yet. Like you said, this is probably a weird joke. I wouldn't worry too much." He handed the letter back to Willy.

Willy gave a nervous laugh "ha, yea you're probably right, you're probably right..."

Mrs. Bucket pipped in to try and cheer Willy up "How about you go get Charlie and help him with those flowers, get your mind off of this, okay?"

"Okay." Willy said weakly, placing the letter in his jacket pocket. "I'll go find him, thanks for making me feel a little better."

After Willy left the room, Mr. Bucket told his wife the gist of the letter. She looked at him concerned "Do you really think this is a joke? What if this is something serious?"

Mr. Bucket sighed, "I'm going to stay positive for now. Let's just wait and see what happens."