“Behold!” cried Mr Wonka, “The most important room in this entire factory! Beyond the walls that taste of grape!”
He pushed the door in front of him open and stepped out into room.
He spread his arms wide with a flourish and gazed around like the proudest father in England.
The lucky golden ticket holders and their families scurried forwards at his behest.
The adults stood on their tippiest of tip-toes to see over the arms while the children peeked underneath.
“Oh my,” whispered Mrs Beauregarde.
“Goodness gracious,” muttered Mr Salt.
“Amazing!” gasped Demetri.
“Yeet!” dabbed Mike Teavee. His mother rolled her eyes.
“It all looks like candy!” cried Veruca Salt.
“That’s because it IS candy, my dear girl!” Mr Wonka said. He pointed his walking cane at the marvellous scene before them. “Fields of grass? Not quite! It is my own special mint plant! Much faster than growing it on trees, don’t you think? And speaking of trees, just look at them! The bark isn’t bark, it’s chocolate wafer! And the buttercups are actually butterscotch! And-“
“And is that a chocolate river?” asked Augustus Gloop, clapping his hands to his cheeks with a resounding slap.
“Calm down, my boy, I was getting to that! Yes indeed, that river mixes my delicious chocolate better than any machine in any other factory in the world could.”
“Blimey, is everything in this room eatable?” said Mr Salt.
“Yes, my good man, YES! Absolutely everything!” cried Mr Wonka.
“Everything?” The children cried.
“Yes!” Mr Wonka shouted, stomping a foot in excitement.
Grandpa Joe’s eyes flicked to a bit of jiggle around Mr Wonka’s rump area.
“Everything?” Grandpa Joe whispered. His tongue slid over his lips.
“God yes,” Mr Wonka moaned. He paused, shook himself, and cleared his throat. “Ahem, go forth! Delight in my creations! Indulge in my ideation! Allow your minds to wander along with your stomachs in my world of pure imagination!”
The children and adults alike scattered like marbles, running this way and that, leaving Mr Wonka and Grandpa Joe alone at the doorway into the Chocolate Room.
“Meanwhile, I might partake of some… well, not-quite-procreation,” Mr Wonka looked over his shoulder at Grandpa Joe who was barely concealing his salivation.
His fingers quivered with anticipation.
Mr Wonka’s eyebrow wiggled in cheeky condemnation.
“It would be rude to deny you any longer, my good sir. Have at me!” He dropped his trousers and waggled his bum to invite Grandpa Joe’s mastication.
Grandpa Joe opened the chest pocket of his tweed jacket and coughed his dentures into them with a muffled splat.
He almost cracked his creaky back as he squatted down behind the chocolatier and took a big whiff.
“It can’t be…” Grandpa Joe mumbled.
“But it could be!” Mr Wonka countered.
“It’s not possible!”
“But it is!”
“No one can do that!”
“But I did!”
From his very clear viewpoint, Grandpa Joe could see right in between Mr Wonka’s cheeks.
He saw the tiny flecks of brown still clinging to the sparse butt hairs, the result of using only toilet paper instead of wet wipes.
And yet, when he inhaled, he smelt the most lovely, delectable, scrumdiddlyumptious aroma of all…
Willy Wonka’s Milk Chocolate.
Grandpa Joe couldn’t resist.
The only thing he had eaten for the last few months has been cabbage soup, after all.
He dove right in, spreading Mr Wonka’s cheeks with his knobbly fingers as he gave the most enthusiastic analingus of his (very long lived) life.
“This is fantastic!” cried Grandpa Joe between slurps.
“Thank you,”
“Sensational!”
“I’d hoped so,”
“Your greatest creation yet!”
“God do I agree!” Mr Wonka uttered shakily, feeling the ecstasy of Grandpa Joe’s tongue around his arsehole coarse through his body, shivering up his digestive system all the way to the top and causing his teeth to chatter.
The wet muscle slid in and out of his sphincter in scooping motions, almost prodding at the nub of his prostate.
He bit back a groan, and opened an eye to lookout for any observers.
Both parents and children were not paying them any mind.
Every last one was stuffing their face.
Even the little fat boy, Augustus Gloop, was kneeling on all fours and lapping at the chocolate river.
Mr Wonka couldn’t care less right now.
After all, Grandpa Joe was enjoying his very own chocolate river right now.