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Mr Wilkinson and the Chocolate Factory

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7th July 1961

William left this morning on the first plane out. Dropped him off at the airport about three hours ago, but I’m already worried. It’s been months since the incident (which is what I have elected to refer to the whole Slugworth business as, given that the name will render him mute for several hours after its utterance), but he still doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s been so quiet lately, but he at least seemed a little livelier when he was packing. Had to pick out some clothes for him, as he still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of dressing like a normal human being, and I don’t think he’s quite ready for anyone to approach him in public yet. Tucked his hair up into a cap as best as we could, but I imagine it will find some way to escape soon. Sent him off with some of my plainest old clothes - they're far too large on him but if he rolls the shirtsleeves and trouser legs up, he looks mostly passable. I say passable - he looks like an absolute lunatic, and I certainly would go out of my way to avoid him were I to encounter him on the streets. He seemed delighted by the prospect.

9th July 1961

Phoned William. He says under no circumstances am I to allow anybody into the factory. Inquired as to whether or not this included cleaning and maintenance. He expressed that he would rather not, but I told him if he thinks I’m going to mop all of his floors myself I will upon his return personally unwrap every single one of his remaining chocolate bars and insert them up his ass. He agreed on hiring cleaners. Radio silence from him hereon in; he’s declared that he’s going to go on a “safari” to “find himself.” Don’t know why he couldn’t have just looked in a mirror.

A joke, by the way. I hope he finds what he’s looking for.

14th July 1961

Cleaning and reorganizing is going well. Ventured into the inventing room for the first time in months. William has been too preoccupied (depressed, rather) to try his hand at cleaning, and frankly I have been too afraid to try for anything other than our immediate quarters and our offices.

Room looked just as I remember it, though everything is covered in a thin layer of dust. Uncovered several vials labelled “speedy juice.” Several of them are empty. Two contain a bluish fizzy liquid. I also discovered that against my wishes he has in fact kept his coffee bean distillation machine operational, albeit sequestered in the far corner of the room where I believe he has been keeping it hidden from me. Presumably he has not tried it again since the last time or I would know, given that he has not in recent memory spent several hours trying to turn the corridors into a giant syrupy slip and slide before declaring himself the new emperor and blacking out outside my office door.

The other experiments he has left behind look as though they might be explosive in some way. One of them appears to be prototype number 4 of exploding candy, which he has very aptly left behind next to the crater from prototype number 3.

20th July 1961

Received a phone call from William. He asked if we had room for “about two hundred people” at the factory. I hung up. Will call him back tomorrow when I am sufficiently rested.