We walked out of the room and proceeded down the hallway. I attempted to quicken my pace, but Miss Mitchell gave me a stern glance, prompting us to hold hands once more.

"Without the boat, we'll have to move double-time to keep on schedule. And there's too much to see." Willy remarked.

"Willy?" I inquired, prompting him to turn his head and acknowledge my question. "Why did you decide to let people in?"

"Oh, so they could see the factory, of course," he replied.

"But why now, and why only five?" I asked again.

But Mike nudged me away and questioned, "What's the special prize, and who gets it?"

"The best kind of prize is a surprise!" he giggled.

Then, Veruca pushed Mike and said, "Will Violet always be a blueberry?"

Willy looked ahead. "No. Maybe. I don't know. But that's what you get from chewing gum all day. It's just disgusting."

"If you hate gum so much, why do you make it?" Mike glared.

"Once again, you shouldn't mumble cause it's kind of starting to bum me out." Willy deflected the question.

"Can you remember the first candy you ever ate?" I curiously asked. Then, Willy stopped in his tracks.

"No..." Willy replied, his face wearing an uneasy expression. The silence hung in the air, and I couldn't remember how many times this had occurred. I gripped Miss Mitchell's hand in fear, convinced I had made a mistake again.

Then he suddenly snapped out of his thoughts and apologized, "I'm sorry, I was having a flashback."

"I see," Mr. Salt reassured Veruca and he guided her away with a hand on her shoulder.

"These flashbacks happen often?" Mr. Teavee eyed Willy suspiciously.

"Increasingly... today," he sighed, then continued to lead the way to another room.

"I'm sorry, Miss Mitchell, I-" I began frantically, but Miss Mitchell hushed me.

"There's nothing to be fearful of, (N/N). Mr. Wonka just had a memory he'd rather forget. None of this is your fault," she comforted, gently brushing my (h/c) hair away from my face.

I mustered a weak smile and continued walking with the rest of the group.

🍫🍫🍫

We arrived in front of a door leading to a room known as the "Nut Sorting Room." When Mr. Salt spotted the sign, he proudly exclaimed, "Ah, this is a room I know all about. You see, Mr. Wonka, I am in the nut business myself."

Mr. Salt extended his business card to Willy, but when no one was looking, Willy discreetly discarded it.

"Are you using the Havermax 4000 to do your sorting?" Mr. Salt inquired.

"No," Willy laughed. "You're really weird."

He swung the door open, and I could hear the cacophony of clattering and chattering in this the room. Were those...squirrels that I heard?

I couldn't help but admire the swirly floor and the vibrant colors in the room. All I could say was that the squirrels were hard at work, efficiently distributing the nuts by either inspecting them or extracting them from their shells.

It was fascinating, but one thing puzzled me – why were they tossing some into that hole?

Miss Mitchell made sure I hadn't tripped, so I clung tightly to the railing. To be honest, I had never seen a squirrel up close, so the experience was overwhelming.

"Squirrels!" Veruca exclaimed.

Willy agreed and added, "These squirrels are specially trained to get the nuts out of shells."

I observed a machine that dropped the nuts into a tube, and it shot a nut when the squirrel had finished its work.

"Why use squirrels? Why not use Oompa-Loompas?" Mr. Salt questioned.

"Because only squirrels can get the whole walnut out almost every single time," Willy explained, while Mr. Salt continued to watch.

Then, he pointed at the squirrels. "You see how they tap each one with their little knuckles to make sure it's not bad?"

I saw one of them tapping on a nut. "Oh, look, look!" Willy directed the others' attention to that squirrel.

It held the nut close to its ear, and then I heard Willy say, "I think that one's got a bad nut." The squirrel promptly discarded the nut, which rolled until it fell through the hole.

"Daddy, I want a squirrel. Get me one of those squirrels. I want one," Veruca demanded.

Mr. Salt suddenly wore an uneasy expression and replied, "Veruca, dear, you have many marvelous pets."

"All I've got at home is one pony and two dogs and four cats and six rabbits and two parakeets and three canaries and a green parrot and a turtle, and a silly old hamster! I want a squirrel!" she rambled angrily.

"21 pets? Miss Mitchell, I can't even begin to imagine the cost," I whispered, and she nodded in agreement.

"Alright, pet. Daddy will get you a squirrel, just as soon as he possibly can," Mr. Salt sighed.

"But I don't want any old squirrel, I want a trained squirrel!" Veruca declared, a sly smile on her face.

Mr. Salt nodded and turned to Willy, asking, "Very well. Mr. Wonka, how much do you want for one of these squirrels? Name your price."

I could have sworn I saw Veruca grinning widely, but Willy simply replied, "Uh, they're not for sale. She can't have one."

The girl's expression quickly shifted, and she fixed her glare on her father. "Daddy!" she demanded again. Mr. Salt just stood there, uncertain about what to do next.

Then, Willy playfully imitated Mr. Salt's accent, saying, "I'm sorry, darling. Mr. Wonka's being unreasonable." The father looked confused, but Veruca continued to shoot angry glares.

"If you won't get me a squirrel, I'll get one myself!" Veruca declared, clearly frustrated. To everyone's surprise, she effortlessly passed through the gate and ascended the first set of stairs.

Suddenly, she looked back and pointed at me. "You! Come here right now, because you're going to help me!"

Miss Mitchell and Willy wore concerned expressions, but I had a plan for this situation. "It's okay. I think I know how to handle this," I assured them with a wink, knowing they would trust me.

What was my plan? I decided to let Little Miss Brat follow her own path and allow the squirrels to handle her. I was confident they were clever enough to distinguish between good nuts (like me) and bad nuts (like her.)

I followed Veruca as she entered through the gate, and we ascended the final set of stairs. Mr. Salt attempted to get his daughter's attention, but Veruca was too absorbed in her fury.

She tried to grab my hand, but I firmly grabbed her arm instead and warned, "Don't touch me." Veruca huffed in annoyance.

At that moment, Willy interjected with a comment, "Little girl? Uh, don't touch that squirrel's nuts. It'll make him crazy!" Veruca paid little heed to his warning and continued walking until she spotted a squirrel.

By then, all the squirrels had stopped their work and focused their attention on the defiant girl. I quickly distanced myself from her as I watched her smile wickedly and reach out her arms, declaring, "I'll have you!"

However, Veruca shouted as the squirrels jumped away. Mike was startled when the squirrels jumped out of their seats. They all gathered around Veruca, and some of the squirrels pushed me to the side.

"Veruca!" Mr. Salt called out desperately, shaking the gate and casting a bewildered look at Willy, who fumbled for the same circle of keys with a perplexed expression.

Amidst her frantic screams, Veruca tried to fend herself off by shooing the squirrels away, but her efforts were to no avail. The squirrels leaped onto her, making her grunt when her body touched the floor.

Meanwhile, Willy tried to find the key, and I almost laughed at how long he took on purpose. "No, it's not that one," he said, his face "concerned." Mr. Salt felt frightened and kept looking back and forth.

Veruca yelled for her father, but the squirrels pinned her to the ground. What powerful rodents! "Daddy, I want them to stop!" she exclaimed as a squirrel climbed on her. Veruca stared for a moment as it looked around. Then it knocked on her head, leaning in close.

"What are they doing?" Miss Mitchell asked.

"They're testing to see if she's a bad nut," Willy said, already finding the key.

When the squirrel chattered, I knew what was going to happen next. "Oh, my goodness," Willy stated. "She is a bad nut after all."

The squirrels spun around and began pushing her into the hole. The squirrels that stayed beside me didn't bother me.

Mr. Salt asked, "Where are they taking her?"

Willy looked down. "Where all the other bad nuts go, to the garbage chute."

"Where does the chute go?" Mr. Salt asked further.

"To the incinerator," Willy disclosed. As the three adults looked at him, he quickly added, "But don't worry. We only light it on Tuesdays."

"Today is Tuesday," Mike answered.

"There's always the chance they decided not to light it today," Willy said again, hoping for my survival.

Veruca tried to scream, as her nails were cracking on the floor. The squirrels began to separate as they continued to push her, and Veruca's scream faded as she fell into the hole.

They were all speechless, and I was closing my eyes at the time. The squirrels then ran up to me and circled me. I kept closing my eyes, bracing myself for the worst.

Willy held Miss Mitchell's hands as she looked away in fear. The squirrel made a noise as it sniffed my head, and the others simply ran back to their assigned spots. My eyes widened with delight because my plan had worked flawlessly!

🍫🍫🍫

Willy and Miss Mitchell sighed in relief as I grinned up at them. Willy opened the gate, causing me to rush up the stairs and almost fall to the floor.

Willy just smiled as Miss Mitchell hugged me tightly. He went on to say, "Now, she may be stuck in the chute just below the top. If that's the case, all you have to do is just reach in and pull her out. Okay?"

He took a step back to allow Mr. Salt to pass. Willy knelt down in front of me as I took deep breaths to calm down. "Are you okay? Nothing went wrong?"

"I'm fine, Willy; it's so intense, I don't think I can handle it again," I replied, smiling. Miss Mitchell smiled as Willy ruffled my hair.

"I'm so proud of you, (N/N). You almost scared me; I thought you would be trashed!" Miss Mitchell said.

"It's okay, Miss Mitchell. I know you can trust me, and Willy, too." I looked at Willy, who was watching the action unfold.

Mr. Salt had come to a halt after the first flight of stairs. From each side, a group of Oompa-Loompas entered the room. They began to sing and dance around that hole. I liked the song; it reminded me of the 1960s.

Veruca Salt, the little brute.
Has just gone down the garbage chute.
And she will meet, as she descends
A rather different set of friends.

A rather different set of friends!
A rather different set of friends!

Some Oompa-Loompas threw stinky trash into the garbage chute in the middle of their song.

A fish head, for example, cut.
This morning from a halibut.
An oyster from an oyster stew.
A steak that no one else would chew.

And lots of other things as well.
Each with its rather horrid smell.
Horrid smell

These are Veruca's newfound friends,
That she will meet as she descends!
These are Veruca's newfound friends!

Willy looked at Mr. Salt innocently, while his father worriedly looked behind him. The Oompa-Loompas led him to the chute as he approached the ground. They turn around and point fingers at him to indicate who is at fault. One of them had earlier spoken with a squirrel and given instructions.

Who went and spoiled her, who indeed?
Who pandered to her every need?
Who turned her into such a brat?
Who are the culprits? Who did that?

The squirrel was about to kick Mr. Salt as he looked over the hole. The Oompa-Loompa threw Veruca's mother's portrait...

The guilty ones, now this is sad.
Are dear old Mum
and loving
Dad.

Mr. Salt exclaimed and fell, his yelling gone. Miss Mitchell's glare stopped me and Willy from laughing.

An Oompa-Loompa shook Willy's sleeve. He whispered something to Willy while he was leaning down. "Oh, really? Oh, good!" he stood up. "I've just been informed that the incinerator's broken. So there should be about three weeks of rotten garbage to break their fall."

"Well, that's good news," Mr. Teavee muttered.

"Yeah, let's keep on truckin'!" he exclaimed. Willy led us out of the room when I saw one of the squirrels running to me with a nut in its paws.

"Oh, thank you, I-" But the squirrel vanished, leaving me to wonder what I was going to do with the nut, which I kept in my pocket. Miss Mitchell called my name, and I nodded and exited the "Nut Sorting Room."