Charlie And The Meat Factory

All right and credits of the original storyline go to Roald Dahl with his original story "Charlie And The Chocolate Factory". All rights and credits of the 2005 film version goes to Warner Bros. Entertainment and the director, Tim Burton and screenwriter John August.

This is a horror, off-version of "Charlie and The Chocolate Factory" the 2005 film version directed by Tim Burton and with Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka. I do not intend to take credit from the original storyline, so I address the credit where it is needed, as I only am writing a "Fan-Fiction", horror version based off the storyline of the 2005 film.

Warnings would include the such: Gore, explicit blood scenes, implied psychotic thoughts, ideas of murder, rude behavior, etc.

(Yes, I added in a new character. I did this to add my own flare on this story. I also added a new character because I figured Grandpa Joe wouldn't want to go to the meat factory, considering he worked at a candy factory. Also considering what happens later on, I don't think Grandpa Joe would've been able to get through it in one piece. And considering how old and frail he is, I would've had to kill him off. I didn't want to kill Grandpa Joe, so please accept my weird, new, "extraordinary" character.)

Chapter 1

This is a story of an ordinary young boy, Charlie Bucket. He was smart, but not smarter. Fast, but not faster. Not very well built, but not out of shape. He was kind, considerate, sympathetic and caring. All of that changed after he became the unluckiest boy in the whole world.

Charlie lived in a small worn out house with his family, away from the community. Hardly having enough to eat, cabbage was always their meal. Although, occasionally, they had something special for dinner, a product of Wonka's Meats. They, along with the rest of the world, loved Wonka's Meats. They were delectable, savory, well-marinated, and unlike any other meat in the world. Others around town have been pondering, saying that the meats might be a hybrid of some sort, like chicken and beef. Nobody ever saw Mr. Wonka himself, or have even been inside the factory itself. Smoke is always coming from the pipes, and the meats are always sent out pre-packaged, both cooked and uncooked, to all over the world. The factory itself was not far from Charlie's home, in fact, he passed it everyday on his way home from school.

What lays inside the factory is a story beyond compare, and everyone had their theories and doubts. Some say the meats are from specially raised live-stock, fed with the finest of products. They could even be a hybrid animal of a new breed. Others would argue, saying that the meats were something of a far more diabolical scheme. Afterall, nobody is seen ever coming out of that factory. No matter the deep theories made of the townsfolk, everyone still loved the meats.

Charlie was on his way home from school, which is nearly ten blocks away from the comfort of his home. It was quite a cold day out, with the snow covering every inch of the town, such as a gently laid blanket over a lumpy bed. Being it the month of January, the snow wasn't expected to take it's leave soon. Charlie entered and greeted his family, inside of the grey, sloped house.

"Good evening, Mom, Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine, Grandpa George, and Grandma Georgina!" Charlie announced, closing the door behind him.

"Evening Charlie" Grandpa Joe was the first to answer back. He was a man in his early 90's, frail, with a pair of round glasses setting upon his face to aid his aging eyes. White cotton hair, which was hardly even present, with a wool cap on and thick robes.

"Welcome back Charlie" Grandma Josephine answered back at the same time as the other grandparents. Grandma Josephine was too around her 90's at the time but hadn't quite reached it yet. She too was as frail as her husband, but her hair wasn't as thinned as his, and she need not any glasses for her eyes haven't given up yet on their sight. She was dressed practically the same as the other grandparents, thick robes which were tattered and torn by time.