Chapter Text
In the middle of a rundown neighborhood at the edge of a bustling city sat a crooked little house, barely holding itself upright. The windows sagged, the porch creaked, and the paint had long since peeled away under the weight of time. Inside, the atmosphere was tight, warm, and often loud, but full of love.
Nani Pelekai, barely twenty-three, stood in the tiny kitchen flipping pancakes for her younger sister Lilo, while their elderly Auntie Ku‘ulei sat bundled in a blanket, sipping weak tea and watching the morning news on a flickering TV. Nani’s apron was stained with flour, her hair pulled into a loose bun, and despite the chaos, she carried herself with quiet strength.
She wasn’t supposed to raise a child at this age. But life hadn’t asked her opinion when it had taken their parents away.
"Can I have three pancakes?" Lilo asked with big eyes, her hair wild with sleep.
"You can have one, with peanut butter," Nani replied without missing a beat. "The rest we save for lunch."
Lilo sighed dramatically, then started buttering a slice of toast instead. Nani flipped another pancake and set it on the plate, wiping her hands on her apron and glancing at the stack of bills on the counter.
Work at the tourist café paid barely enough to keep the lights on. Every month was a struggle. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bought something new for herself. Every spare dime went to food, clothes for Lilo, and keeping Ku‘ulei’s medicine stocked.
But Nani never complained. Not out loud, anyway.
“Hey,” Ku‘ulei rasped from the couch, pointing to the TV. “Turn that up. It’s about the chocolate factory again.”
Nani walked over and nudged the volume dial with her elbow. The screen came into focus just in time to catch the face of a young news anchor grinning far too cheerfully.
“...and after a decade of silence, Wendy Wonka has broken her long absence with a stunning announcement: Five Golden Tickets have been hidden in candy bars across the globe. These tickets grant access to her legendary candy factory—still the largest and most mysterious in the world. A place no outsider has entered for over ten years.”
The screen switched to a brief clip of the factory’s towering gates: curling iron filigree, sealed with a massive golden “W.” Behind it stood an impossible-looking building that seemed to blend Gothic fantasy with pastel dreamscape.
The camera cut to footage of candy shops being stormed by children and parents alike, tearing through shelves in search of the coveted golden slips.
“They’ve been finding them,” Ku‘ulei whispered, sipping her tea with a wistful smile. “One by one. Four tickets already. Just one left.”
“Who’d even want to go to some weird candy factory?” Lilo asked with a frown, chewing on her toast. “It’s probably full of melted licorice and talking marshmallows.”
“Talking marshmallows don’t sound that bad,” Nani replied, smiling softly.
“Oh please,” Ku‘ulei snorted. “You both act like you weren’t raised on Wendy Wonka’s chocolate bars. That woman made candy that could sing, melt your worries away, or sparkle like the ocean.”
“I liked the Aloha Maca-Galactic bar,” Lilo said. “It tasted like coconut and space.”
Nani remembered those bars. She used to buy one after school, back when things were easier—back when she still had time for dreams.
The news anchor continued, now recapping the four winners so far. The screen flashed:
1. Taylor Swift – A pop icon whose appetite for sweets had recently gone viral as she devoured twenty bars on livestream, revealing a bright golden ticket nestled in the last bite. Her now-infamous declaration: “Singing and snacking—who says I can’t be both fabulous and full?”
The camera lingered on her for a second—an undeniably beautiful woman with shimmering blonde curls and a plush, curvy figure draped in a bedazzled tracksuit. She grinned, holding the ticket in one hand and a chocolate éclair in the other.
2. Odalia Blight – Owner of Blight Industries empire and self-declared “Greatest Business Woman,” who had demanded all her workers to buy out entire candy distributors to increase her odds
3. Helen Parr (aka Elastigirl) – A retired superhero and current mother of three, known for her flexibility both physically and emotionally. Her ticket had turned up in her son Dash’s Halloween candy, but she claimed it “was clearly meant for me.”
4. Ming Lee – A Toronto-based consultant and social-media etiquette guru. Her discovery video featured her scolding the shopkeeper for disorganization, then accidentally unwrapping a golden ticket while lecturing on packaging safety.
“That’s a…weird group,” Lilo said with a snort.
“One more ticket,” Ku‘ulei murmured. “It could still be anyone…”
Later that afternoon, after dropping Lilo off at her dance class and finishing a double shift at the café, Nani trudged home with sore feet and a splitting headache. The heat made the air feel thick, but it was payday—so she stopped at a corner store for essentials: rice, milk, and toilet paper.
The clerk, a skinny teen with half-dyed hair, was watching the TV behind the counter as Nani stood in line. Another report on the Golden Tickets.
“Crazy, huh?” he said, scanning her groceries. “Imagine getting to walk into that place. I bet they’ve got fountains of sherbet and flying sugar drones.”
“Sure,” Nani replied, pulling out her battered wallet. “As long as those sugar drones don’t replace minimum wage jobs.”
“Fair point,” he laughed, then tossed a candy bar into her bag without charging. “On the house. They’re running a promo, last batch of Wonka’s stock. Might as well try your luck.”
Nani looked at it—Wendy Wonka’s Ever-Surprising Surprise Bar. Wrapped in foil, sealed with a wax “W.” She hadn’t seen one of those in years. She almost gave it back, but Lilo would probably want it.
She left the store, walked the cracked pavement back home, and collapsed onto the couch just as Lilo arrived, chattering about a girl in her class who could do four cartwheels in a row.
Nani barely listened. She was tired—so tired. She handed Lilo the bar without thinking.
“Here. The cashier said it’s magic.”
“Ooooh, maybe it explodes!” Lilo giggled and tore it open.
For a second, there was nothing. Then something fluttered out of the wrapper and landed on the floor with a whisper.
Nani stared.
Lilo picked it up slowly, eyes wide.
It was gold. Thin as silk, shimmering with letters that seemed to shift and sparkle with light.
CONGRATULATIONS!
You’ve found the Fifth Golden Ticket!
You and one guest are invited to Wendy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.
The tour begins Saturday morning at precisely 10:00 a.m.
Bring this ticket and your wildest imagination.
“Did we just—?” Lilo squeaked.
Nani grabbed the ticket. It didn’t vanish. It didn’t dissolve. It was real.
She looked up at Ku‘ulei, who had nearly dropped her tea. The old woman’s mouth hung open like a fish.
“I—” Nani started. “This has to be a prank, right? Some viral promo or something.”
“It’s real,” Ku‘ulei said in awe. “Girl, you’re going to the factory.”
The next few days were a whirlwind.
News vans surrounded their house. Strangers begged for interviews. Offers for ticket buyouts poured in—some offering tens of thousands. But Nani refused. Not out of pride, but because Lilo looked at her like she was magic now. Like Nani had done something incredible. Something worth dreaming about.
The day before the tour, a courier arrived with two custom-tailored coats: one for Nani and one for Lilo. Soft velvet, deep plum, trimmed with golden thread. There was a card pinned to the lapel of Nani’s coat:
“The gates will open for you. Don’t be late. –W.W.”
Nani ran her fingers over the monogram. Wendy Wonka. The woman was a mystery—part legend, part recluse, part genius. No one knew why she’d vanished, why she’d stopped production, or why she was suddenly opening her doors again.
And now, Nani was going to find out.
The morning of the factory tour arrived like a dream wrapped in cellophane—glimmering, exciting, and just a little too surreal to be real.
Nani stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the velvet folds of her purple coat. Lilo had insisted on braiding her hair with candy-colored ribbons, and now the braid draped over one shoulder, festive but tidy. Lilo herself looked like a tiny adventurer, her matching coat nearly swallowing her whole.
They stood on the street corner where a polished black carriage—yes, an actual carriage—awaited them. The driver wore round spectacles and a silver top hat with a small peppermint stick tucked into the brim.
"Miss Pelekai and guest?" he asked with a crisp British accent.
"Uh... yeah," Nani replied, still not used to the attention.
"Welcome to the sweetest ride of your life."
The carriage doors swung open on their own. Inside, the seats were plush pink marshmallow, and the ceiling shimmered with a mural of chocolate galaxies and spinning licorice moons.
As they pulled away, crowds gathered on the sidewalks to wave at them. Nani ducked a little, unused to being the center of anything.
Lilo, however, waved enthusiastically. “We're gonna meet Wendy Wonka!”
The factory loomed in the distance like a palace from a fever dream.
It stood taller than the skyline, its towers shaped like swirling peppermint spires and caramel-dripped domes. Gears turned in the walls like mechanical flowers blooming in slow motion. Chimneys puffed cotton candy steam, and somewhere in the distance, a musical chime echoed like a giant music box warming up.
In front of the massive golden gates stood a crowd of media, officials, onlookers, and security. But none were allowed past the threshold. That was for five special guests.
Four of them had already arrived.
Taylor Swift, reclining in a candy-pink limousine, was being helped out by a trio of assistants. She looked just as glamorous as the television had shown—but up close, Nani noted how round her cheeks had grown, how snug her sparkling jumpsuit clung to her curvy form. She carried a cupcake in one hand and a mirror in the other.
“Does this outfit say ‘sweet and seductive,’ or just ‘sugar coma’?” Taylor mused aloud to no one in particular.
Nearby, Elastigirl stood with military posture, arms folded, her expression all business. A gold-accented utility belt sat snugly around her waist, and her stretchable limbs were tucked in neatly like ropes coiled and ready for action.
“I’m here to observe and analyze,” she muttered into a recorder clipped to her collar. “Wonka technology may pose a risk or opportunity. Must remain alert.”
Odalia Blight arrived next, in a personal airship marked with the Blight Industries logo. A gold-trimmed parasol shaded her from the sun as she descended the gangplank, a trail of robotic porters following behind her.
“Don’t smudge my shoes!” she snapped at one of them. “These were imported from the Isles of Covalt!”
She turned to the others, smiling with sharp-edged confidence.
“Wendy and I are both businesswomen,” Odalia declared. “I intend to acquire some of her secrets while I’m here. Industrial espionage, darling—it’s just another kind of networking.”
Nani and Lilo stepped out of the carriage quietly, drawing some looks.
"Who's the charity case?" Odalia whispered to her assistant, just loud enough for Nani to hear.
Nani ignored it. Lilo stuck her tongue out.
Before tensions could rise, a chime echoed through the air. The factory gates groaned, then slowly parted.
A pathway of candy tiles unfurled from inside—each step a different flavor, if the color and glimmer were anything to judge by.
And there she stood.
Wendy Wonka.
She was unlike anyone Nani had ever seen. Her coat was a shimmering patchwork of crushed velvet, jellybean studs, and spun sugar embroidery. Her top hat tilted slightly to the side, and her boots looked like polished licorice twists. Her hair, a cascade of pink and caramel curls, flowed down her back like frosting on a cupcake.
But it was her eyes that stood out most—wide, sharp, and bright with a gleam of chaotic brilliance.
“Hello, children—of all ages,” Wendy said, spreading her arms like a magician unveiling her grandest trick. “Welcome to the one, the only, the Wendy Wonka Chocolate Factory!”
Lilo clapped excitedly. Nani blinked.
Wendy strode toward them, her heels making no sound on the candy tiles. She looked over each guest like she was tasting them with her eyes.
“Ah! Miss Taylor Swift. You look… fluffier than your album covers.”
Taylor giggled. “All part of the brand, sweetie.”
“Elastigirl. Flexible in body and mind—I admire that. But do try not to interrogate my gumball machines.”
“Of course,” Elastigirl replied, poker-faced.
“Odalia Blight. Known for her poisons, patents, and pretensions. Let’s see how well that armor holds up against a marshmallow gauntlet.”
Odalia’s smile strained at the edges. “Delighted to meet you, I’m sure.”
Wendy turned last to Nani and Lilo.
“And this… is the Pelekai pair. A surprise, but oh, what a lovely one. Nani—humble, grounded, sweet like honey. Lilo—wild, curious, a bit sticky at times, but who isn’t?”
Nani gave a hesitant nod. Lilo gave a full bow.
“Are you real?” Lilo whispered. “Like, really real?”
Wendy knelt, placing a candy-striped finger on Lilo’s nose. “I’m as real as your dreams and just as strange. Now—shall we begin?”
The gates closed behind them with a hum.
Inside the courtyard, sugar-coated topiaries danced in the breeze. Fountains of soda-pop fizzed, birds made of rock candy chirped overhead, and the path ahead spiraled into a candy-striped tunnel that pulsed with rainbow light.
“This,” Wendy declared, leading the way, “is the beginning of a journey through imagination, innovation, and—if you're not careful—transformation.”
“Wait, what does that mean?” Odalia asked suspiciously.
“It means my factory is… unpredictable. Alive, in a sense. It reflects who you are, what you desire. It rewards the worthy, and... well, let’s just say it has a low tolerance for greed, gluttony, and bad manners.”
Lilo tugged at Nani’s coat. “Are we gonna transform?”
“Only if we misbehave,” Nani whispered, eyes wide.
They walked down the tunnel, which shifted colors as they passed—peach, lemon, raspberry, and mint—until it opened into a vast chamber unlike anything Nani had ever seen.
A river of chocolate the size of a swimming pool flowed lazily through the center of the room. A bridge made of nougat stretched over it. Along the banks were edible flowers, gumdrop boulders, and trees with candy canes growing like fruit.
It was stunning. Overwhelming.
And strangely… inviting.
Wendy twirled on the bridge. “This is the Chocolate River. Pure, unfiltered, endlessly cycling. It powers the factory, quenches the thirst of our marshmallow boilers, and occasionally acts as a hot tub for gummy bears.”
“You let bears swim in that?” Odalia sniffed.
“Just the hygienic ones.”
Taylor was already leaning over the bank, eyes gleaming.
“This smells like cocoa heaven,” she said, her stomach growling audibly. “Is it safe to taste?”
“Of course it’s safe,” Wendy said, grinning. “Just don’t fall in.”
Nani grabbed Lilo’s hand. “Let’s keep back a bit.”
“Oh lighten up,” Taylor giggled, pulling a lollipop from her pocket. “I have to dip this.”
She leaned closer—too close.
And slipped.
Her foot skidded on a gumdrop, and with a surprised squeal, she tumbled head-first into the chocolate river.
“Taylor!” Nani gasped.
But before anyone could react, a series of chimes echoed and a dozen candy-colored inner tubes inflated from the riverbanks, forming a sort of rescue ring. However, instead of pulling Taylor out, the tubes began swirling around her—faster, tighter—until she vanished beneath the surface.
Wendy only sighed.
“Well, that didn’t take long.”
“She’s—what, gone?” Odalia gasped.
“Oh no,” Wendy said, pressing a button on her cane. A peppermint viewing screen popped up from the floor. On it, Taylor floated through a chocolate tunnel, happily sipping from the river with both hands.
“She’ll be fine,” Wendy assured them. “Though she may come out… heavier.”
“Why would she get heavier?” Nani asked.
“Well, she already had a sweet tooth. Now she’s literally sweetened. The chocolate adapts to your appetite. If you can’t stop tasting, it won’t stop offering.”
“She’s in no danger. And besides…” Wendy gestured to the tunnel ahead. “The tour must go on.”
Odalia scowled. Elastigirl folded her arms tighter.
But Nani, gripping Lilo’s hand, walked on, her mind racing.
One guest down. Four remained.
And somehow, she sensed the factory had only just begun.
As the group followed Wendy deeper into the ever-shifting halls of the factory, the strange and marvelous sights around them barely gave them a moment to think. The walls seemed alive—shimmering with caramel-coated piping, rotating panels of candy-themed murals, and chandeliers that dripped droplets of hardened sugar instead of wax.
Despite the wonder, Nani’s thoughts were still stuck on what had just happened.
Taylor Swift—gone. Not dead, apparently, but sucked into a chocolate tunnel like a living bonbon and left to drift off into who-knows-where, growing “sweeter” by the minute.
Nani whispered to Lilo, “We stick together, okay? No wandering.”
“I’m not going in any rivers,” Lilo promised.
Odalia, meanwhile, was storming ahead with a clipboard that had somehow appeared in her hands. She scribbled furiously, muttering notes to herself about intellectual property theft and “latent monetization potential.” Elastigirl trailed behind, suspicious of every pipe, wire, and dancing gumdrop.
Wendy twirled her candy-striped cane as they turned into the next chamber. The doors opened with a hiss of peppermint mist.
The room beyond was wide and domed, with glass walls that looked out over a candy-themed city—gumdrop buildings, lollipop lampposts, and what appeared to be licorice train tracks weaving in and out of the horizon. In the center of the room was a rotating pedestal surrounded by golden pedestals, one for each visitor.
As everyone stepped inside, Wendy raised her cane and tapped it twice on the floor. A honey-smooth musical chime rang out. From a trapdoor behind her, a quartet of tiny beings emerged.
They weren’t children, but they weren’t quite adults either. They were… something else. Their skin shimmered like fondant, their eyes were full of mirth, and their uniforms were perfectly fitted. Nani blinked.
“Oompopas,” Wendy explained cheerfully. “My factory assistants. No tour would be complete without them.”
The Oompopas bowed in unison. One gave Lilo a wink. She giggled.
“Now then,” Wendy said, clapping her hands. “Let’s review how you all found your tickets, shall we? Memory lane is best walked before the next room.”
The rotating pedestal in the center glowed gold. Images shimmered in the air above it.
First: Taylor Swift
A video clip played: Taylor lounging in a studio during a livestream, surrounded by candy wrappers. Her lips sparkled with sugar as she reached into a pile of Wonka Surprise Bars, unwrapping them one by one while chatting with fans.
“I’ll keep eating ‘til I find a golden one,” she laughed. “Calories don’t count when you’re famous!”
Finally, she unwrapped the last bar and gasped dramatically. “Oh. My. Gosh. It’s real!” She screamed, chocolate flinging across the screen.
The image faded, replaced by a lingering sparkle.
“A talented woman,” Wendy mused. “But her appetite will take her further than fame ever could.”
Second: Odalia Blight
The image flickered again. Now it showed a private candy vault—walls lined with jars of rare chocolates, imported sweets, and display cases like a high-end museum of indulgence.
Odalia stood in the center, arms crossed, as a butler cracked open crates of Wonka bars.
“Keep opening them!” she barked. “I’m not losing to some influencer with a double chin!”
After the fiftieth bar, a golden shimmer caught her eye. She snatched it up and held it to the camera.
“Victory,” she sneered. “Now find out what kind of non-disclosure agreement they’ll sign.”
As the projection faded, Odalia smirked.
“A strategic acquisition,” she said proudly.
“Of course,” Wendy said, tilting her head. “You do know that greed is very hard for my factory to digest.”
Odalia waved her off.
Third: Elastigirl
The screen shifted to a suburban kitchen. Elastigirl stood at the counter, surrounded by her kids—Violet, Dash, and Jack-Jack. On the table were trick-or-treat bags, sorted by type.
“Okay, who had this bar?” she asked, holding up a glittering Wonka wrapper.
“I did!” Dash shouted.
“You ate most of it,” Violet groaned.
“I’m just saying we share this win,” Elastigirl said diplomatically. “But if I’m the one who ends up going in, I promise to represent all of us.”
“Yeah, because you’re the one who fits in the camera frame,” Dash muttered.
The image faded with the sound of Elastigirl saying, “I’ll take notes. This could help us design better training simulations.”
“Her heart’s in the right place,” Wendy said with a smile. “Let’s hope the rest of her stays that way, too.”
Fourth: Ming Lee
A new clip appeared: a cell phone video of Ming Lee filming a livestream critique of a local grocery store.
“These shelves are not symmetrical, and the expiration dates are misaligned,” she snapped.
Then she tore open a Wonka bar from the shelf, meant only to demonstrate its sloppy packaging—and revealed the golden ticket.
She paused, dead silent.
Then smiled into the camera.
“Just as I planned.”
The video ended.
Ming—still with perfect posture—cleared her throat. “Efficiency and oversight always lead to results.”
“I can’t wait to see how the factory handles that,” Wendy whispered gleefully.
Fifth: Nani Pelekai
The final image appeared.
It was her.
A tired young woman in an old hoodie, carrying groceries. The candy bar handed to her by the cashier. Lilo unwrapping it, the shimmer of the ticket fluttering to the floor.
Wendy turned to her.
“No viral videos. No wealth. No hustle. Just... life.”
Nani didn’t respond. She could feel everyone staring at her.
“She didn’t even buy it,” Odalia scoffed. “It was a handout.”
“I think,” Wendy said, stepping close to Nani, “that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.”
Nani looked her in the eyes. “I’m not here for magic or fame. I’m here because I promised my sister we’d stick together. That’s all.”
Wendy smiled—genuinely, for the first time.
“Then you might be the only one who sees what this factory really is.”
The viewing room dimmed, the projections fading. The pedestal slowly lowered into the floor, and a new path opened—lined with moving tiles and swirling steam vents that gave off the smell of warm sugar and toasted almonds.
Wendy spun on her heel. “That concludes our little introduction. Now that you’ve been properly flattered, embarrassed, or exposed, let’s continue.”
“Wait,” Elastigirl said, frowning. “Why the videos? What’s the point?”
“Because everything here has a purpose,” Wendy said without looking back. “My factory responds to your choices. To who you are. It watches, listens, and… sometimes corrects.”
That statement made everyone pause.
Lilo held tighter to Nani’s hand. “Is this a test?”
“Of course it is,” Wendy said. “The Golden Tickets weren’t just invitations. They were keys. The doors you’re about to walk through? They’re going to show you things. About candy, yes—but also about yourselves.”
Odalia snorted. “Spare me the fortune cookie philosophy.”
Wendy stopped walking. The cane in her hand tapped once, then again, and the floor rippled like jelly under their feet.
“Fine,” she said coolly. “If you want something more direct, perhaps the next room will appeal to your… palate.”
The group stepped forward.
The hallway ahead grew warm, thick with the scent of molten caramel. A gentle wind carried the smell of jelly, taffy, and something darker—richer. There was humming in the walls, a kind of lullaby.
Lilo looked up at Nani. “Do you think Taylor’s okay?”
“I hope so,” Nani said softly. “But we’re not going to let this place change us. No matter how pretty it looks.”
Wendy, just ahead, smiled but didn’t turn around.
“Oh, Nani. Everything here changes you. Whether you want it to or not.”
As the candy-coated door behind them sealed with a pleasant chime, the factory tour officially began.
The group stepped into a hallway that felt like it belonged inside a dream—or a very expensive hallucination. The walls shimmered with ever-shifting colors, changing from frosting-pink to lime-sherbet green as they walked. Lights shaped like lemon drops floated gently above their heads, casting soft glows like sunlight through gummy glass.
The floor was made of something bouncy but firm, like a fruit chew that didn’t stick. It even squished slightly with each step. Lilo bounced on it experimentally and let out a laugh.
“This is amazing!”
Odalia lifted her shoe, inspecting the sole. “Hmph. Sticky.”
Wendy turned and gestured dramatically. “Welcome to the Digestive Corridor! Not because it aids digestion, no—but because it introduces you to what might digest you.”
“What does that mean?” Elastigirl asked, suspicious.
“Oh, nothing. Just a bit of whimsy.”
They turned a corner—and then the hallway opened into the first true marvel of the day.
It was a massive chamber, wide as a stadium and at least six stories high. Above them spun giant wheels made of candied steel, churning clouds of powdered sugar into swirling fog. Rivers of colored syrup flowed from crystalline spouts and into flavor basins marked with names like “Toffee Typhoon,” “Strawberry Whirlwind,” and “Mallow Melt.”
Bridges crisscrossed over bubbling caramel pits. Conveyor belts carried barrels of ingredients—some familiar, some labeled in languages that definitely weren’t Earth-born.
There were platforms rising and falling like elevators, operated by Oompopas with brilliant-white uniforms and hard hats shaped like gumdrops. The place bustled like a factory, but danced like a musical.
Wendy raised her arms.
“This… is the Flavor Foundry. Where every candy begins its life, where invention meets indulgence, and where curiosity is only slightly more dangerous than hunger.”
“Are those… marshmallow geysers?” Elastigirl asked, pointing toward a series of periodic explosions that sent white puffs flying skyward.
“Indeed. Controlled by temperature and time. Like a soufflé—only volcanic.”
“Controlled explosions in a candy plant?” Odalia muttered. “This entire operation’s a liability nightmare.”
“Only if you lack imagination,” Wendy said sweetly.
While the others wandered toward the edges, taking in the incredible smells and sights, Nani stayed close to Lilo. Her eyes darted constantly. Beautiful as it all was, she didn’t trust any of it.
And she was right to be wary.
Because then Taylor’s name came up.
“Where is the chocolate river from earlier?” Odalia asked. “Shouldn’t it connect here?”
“Oh, it does,” Wendy said. “Taylor is currently being guided through the Cocoa Purification Tubes and the Ganache-Infusion Spa. Very luxurious.”
“She’s… not hurt?”
“Not yet. But she’s definitely growing into the experience.”
That gave Nani chills. Wendy noticed.
“Still concerned?” she asked gently.
“She fell in, and you didn’t try to stop it.”
“I warned everyone: the factory rewards and punishes based on behavior. Taylor’s been… indulging. The Chocolate River adapts to gluttons. And she, well… leaned in.”
Odalia snorted. “So what, this place is a morality maze disguised as a dessert palace?”
“Bravo!” Wendy clapped. “That’s the closest thing to truth you’ve said all day.”
Elastigirl narrowed her eyes. “Then we need to be cautious.”
“Oh, don’t be too cautious,” Wendy said, skipping ahead. “Caution is useful—but without a little risk, you never taste the best parts of life.”
The group crossed into the next area: a narrow walkway suspended over a pit of bubbling violet goo. On either side were mechanical arms dipping oversized candy molds into thick, steaming liquid.
“This is our prototype station,” Wendy explained. “Where wild ideas come to life.”
“What kind of ideas?” Nani asked.
“Well, right now we’re testing the Mood Mallow. One bite adapts to your current mood and amplifies it into flavor. We had one test subject eat it while anxious—it turned into a flavor we had to legally rename from ‘nervous licorice.’”
Lilo tugged her sister’s coat. “Can I try it?”
“Absolutely not,” Nani replied.
Wendy held out a silver tray with a few samples on it. “Just a taste? No danger in moderation.”
Nani shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Odalia, however, snatched one.
It looked like a glowing cube of sugar with flickering lights inside. She popped it in her mouth before Wendy could even finish her sentence.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then her pupils dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her entire posture straightened like she’d been shot with espresso.
“This… tastes like… power,” she said, her voice trembling. “Liquid gold. Control. Legacy.”
“Oh dear,” Wendy said quietly.
The air around Odalia shimmered. Her body began to float—slightly, like she was carried by ambition itself.
“Odalia?” Nani asked.
“Don’t you see?” Odalia cried. “I can taste my empire! This is what I’ve always wanted!”
“Perhaps too much,” Wendy said.
Suddenly, a mechanical arm swooped from the side and sprayed her with a powdery mist. She sneezed, and immediately sank back to the ground with a dull thump.
“Control batch,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “Some people can’t handle a taste of their own essence.”
Odalia glared at her, dazed. “That was… enlightening.”
“And you’ll be seeing even more soon,” Wendy said. “You’re progressing wonderfully.”
They entered the next corridor—a more subdued one, with glowing walls and soft lullaby music. The air smelled of mint and fresh-baked vanilla.
“I think this is the first room that doesn’t look like a trap,” Elastigirl murmured.
“Looks,” Wendy said with a wink, “can be deceiving.”
They passed by a wall that displayed spinning shapes—miniature candy constellations that morphed as they walked past. Each shape briefly resembled one of the guests before reforming into stars.
Lilo stared at her own image, then at Nani’s.
“It knows what we look like,” she whispered.
“It knows more than that,” Wendy whispered back. “It knows what’s inside.”
They reached the next set of double doors. Wendy raised her cane.
“Behind these doors lies the first true temptation. This is where your tour becomes more… personal.”
Everyone hesitated.
“Well, everyone except one of you.”
Wendy tapped her cane, and the doors creaked open with a sound like sugar glass breaking.
Inside was a room so bright and colorful it almost hurt to look at. The air was thick with the smell of every candy imaginable. Jellybean trees, chocolate fountains, caramel trampolines, and glass bowls of neon gumdrops lined every surface.
At the center, standing like a beacon, was a mountain of open candy boxes—Wonka bars in every flavor, all glowing faintly.
And standing in front of it… was Taylor Swift.
Or rather, what Taylor Swift had become.
She was bigger. Significantly bigger. Her glamorous jumpsuit had split at the seams and been replaced by a shimmering dress stitched from licorice lace. Her cheeks were round and flushed. Her hands clutched chocolate truffles like lifelines. She was reclined on a candy couch, surrounded by Oompopas who offered her more.
“Taylor!” Nani gasped.
Taylor looked up with glazed eyes and a content smile.
“Hi guys,” she purred, licking cocoa off her fingers. “I live here now.”
“You what?” Elastigirl barked.
“She passed the threshold of moderation,” Wendy said simply. “She gave in to hunger—not just for sweets, but for attention, pleasure, everything.”
“She seems happy,” Lilo whispered.
“Oh, she is,” Wendy said. “But she’ll never leave. Not until she decides she’s had enough. And people like her? They rarely do.”
“Isn’t that… cruel?” Nani asked.
“I gave her what she wanted,” Wendy said. “What she chose. My factory only gives back what you pour into it.”
Taylor bit into another truffle, sighed deeply, and blew a chocolate-scented kiss.
“Good luck, everyone,” she cooed.
The Oompopas gently pulled a candy curtain across the room. The scene vanished.
Nani looked down at Lilo.
“We’re not ending up like that,” she said.
“Not unless the truffles taste really good,” Lilo joked.
Wendy laughed.
“Spoken like a true visitor.”
She turned back toward the doors.
“Four guests remain. And the next room? Well, it’s nuts.”
The group stepped into the next room—and were immediately hit by a wave of earthy, sweet, roasted air. It smelled like freshly baked pecan pie and caramel-glazed chestnuts. The room itself looked more like a botanical garden than a factory. Lush trees rose overhead, their trunks wrapped in golden ribbon, their branches dripping with almonds, hazelnuts, and acorns the size of cantaloupes.
A sign over the archway read: The Nut Sorting Room.
At the far end of the room was a glass observation platform overlooking a busy system of conveyor belts, chutes, and baskets. Thousands of nuts rolled down into silver trays, where dozens of squirrels in tiny hats quickly sniffed and tapped each one. If a nut passed muster, it was shuttled into a golden chute. If not, it was tossed into a pit labeled “Subpar.”
“Squirrels?” asked Elastigirl, peering through the glass. “Not machines?”
“They’re the best at it,” Wendy replied. “Highly trained. Sharp senses. Absolute judgment. And just the right amount of attitude.”
Lilo was fascinated. “Do they talk?”
“No,” said Wendy, “but they’ll let you know if they like you.”
Suddenly, the largest squirrel—a broad-shouldered brute with a monocle—pointed a tiny paw at Odalia Blight.
“Why is it looking at me?” Odalia asked, frowning.
“Oh, that’s Major Nibbles,” Wendy said with a chuckle. “He thinks you’ve got a nut.”
Odalia stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a joke,” Wendy said. “He suspects you're hiding something crunchy.”
“I don’t do jokes.” Odalia adjusted her blouse and stared down at the squirrel. “And I don’t take orders from rodents.”
The squirrel blinked. Then it pressed a glowing green button beside its platform.
With a sudden thump, a ramp extended downward from the squirrel sorting floor—leading straight to a central throne made entirely of polished walnut wood and caramel arms.
“What’s that?” Nani asked.
“The Nut Evaluation Chair,” Wendy said. “Guests may volunteer to sit and be… judged.”
“Absolutely not,” Nani replied instantly.
Odalia, however, was already moving.
“If they want to evaluate someone,” she said, with her nose in the air, “they should evaluate a superior specimen.”
“Elastigirl,” Nani muttered, “can we stop her?”
“Nope. Let her go. Might learn something.”
Odalia strutted up the ramp as if it were a fashion runway, brushing aside a startled Oompopa. She took her seat on the Nut Evaluation Chair and crossed her arms.
“Alright, squirrels. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Major Nibbles gave a sharp squeak. Immediately, dozens of squirrels scurried into action.
A golden arch descended over Odalia’s head, scanning her from hair to heels. Red lights flashed. Alarms beeped.
“Hey!” she barked. “What are you doing?”
“They’re assessing nut potential,” Wendy said. “You volunteered.”
Squirrels began placing objects on her lap—walnut shells, almond slices, and slivers of hazelnut. Others jumped onto her shoulders, prodding her hair, sniffing her sleeves.
“Shoo! Get off me!” Odalia shrieked.
But the squirrels didn’t back off.
Instead, Major Nibbles squeaked again, and suddenly—
CRACK!
The throne beneath her split in two, transforming into a padded recliner. A curved dome of caramel-colored glass dropped from above and sealed her inside. Tubes descended from the ceiling.
And then… the nuts began to flow.
Caramelized almonds. Roasted cashews. Honey-glazed pecans. All piped into the dome and dumped into her lap. Odalia screamed as the first wave hit her, and then again as more poured in—faster, hotter, heavier.
“Get me out of here!” she shrieked.
“They seem to think you’re part of the collection,” Wendy mused. “A rather large part.”
As the nuts piled up, Odalia flailed—but the recliner tilted backward, positioning her like a baby being fed.
A mechanical arm emerged and, with surgical precision, scooped a clump of crushed nut clusters and shoved it into her mouth.
“Mmmph!!” she sputtered.
But she swallowed.
Another scoop. And another.
With every mouthful, her eyes widened—and then her chewing slowed. The anger in her face began to fade into something else. Confusion. Then… delight.
Her eyelids fluttered.
“I… I can taste the prestige,” she mumbled.
Her body began to swell.
Her arms puffed out first, followed by her face, which rounded like rising dough. Her designer blouse stretched, seams groaning, as her belly pushed outward. Her hips filled the recliner completely.
The squirrels kept feeding her. Every handful added more weight, more roundness, more contentment to her expression.
“Is she… enjoying this?” Nani asked.
“She’s tasting her own greed,” Wendy said. “Nut after nut. Each one flavored with status and success. It's her fantasy. She's just... consuming it.”
“She’s going to explode!” Elastigirl shouted.
“No no,” Wendy corrected, “she’ll just expand.”
Odalia moaned—half in protest, half in pleasure—as her body ballooned larger than the chair. Her cheeks were stuffed like twin apples, her legs too thick to close. Her designer boots had popped off, revealing puffy toes.
The dome finally opened with a hiss, and the feeding stopped.
Odalia lay there, enormous and helpless, coated in a fine dusting of cinnamon and sugar.
Her eyes rolled back.
“That… was exquisite…”
The squirrels gathered around her like worshippers.
“She’s one of them now,” Wendy said softly.
“What do you mean?” Lilo asked.
“She wanted power and adoration—now she has both. They’ll keep her here as their queen.”
Major Nibbles placed a tiny golden acorn crown on her puffy head.
Odalia beamed with pride. “I… I deserve this…”
“Shouldn’t we help her?” Nani asked.
“She’s happy,” Wendy said. “Happier than she’s ever been.”
Elastigirl shook her head. “This factory’s twisted.”
“Only in proportion to the people who walk through it,” Wendy replied.
She turned back to the door.
“Three left. And things are about to get a little… juicier.”
The hallway beyond the Nut Sorting Room was surprisingly quiet. The gleam of copper pipes and crystal bulbs lit their path, but the mood had shifted. Odalia’s transformation had left a strange silence hanging over the group—one filled with unease and unanswered questions.
Only three children remained: Taylor, still sluggish from her candy binge and noticeably heavier; Elastigirl, who had grown increasingly skeptical of Wendy’s intentions; and Nani, wide-eyed and cautious, holding tightly to Lilo’s hand.
They stopped at a pair of grand oak doors carved with vines of ivy and flowers. The handles were shaped like grapes.
Wendy turned to them with a mischievous smirk. “Ladies and Lilo, welcome to the Juice Innovation Chamber.”
The doors creaked open, revealing a high-tech greenhouse laboratory bathed in purple and indigo light. Giant fruit vats churned slowly against the walls, and thick vines snaked along the ceiling. In the center stood a huge circular platform lined with glass nozzles and strange instruments.
Floating above it all was a hovering orb of deep blue light that pulsed rhythmically—almost like a heartbeat.
“Whoa…” Lilo whispered. “This is awesome.”
“Fruits from every corner of the world,” Wendy explained. “Genetically enhanced, flavor-boosted, and mood-responsive. We make juices here that can… shift you.”
“Shift us?” Nani asked.
Elastigirl raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like science fiction.”
“Oh, it’s science fantasy,” Wendy said brightly. “Completely safe. Mostly. But highly interactive.”
Wendy gestured toward a chrome dispenser labeled EXPERIMENTAL FLAVOR SEQUENCE B-27.
“This one’s our latest: Blueberry Boost. Guaranteed to refresh the body and brighten the mind.”
Taylor groaned behind them, her round face resting against a wall. “Can I… can I just sit this one out?”
“You’ve already had your share,” Wendy said gently. “It’s time for someone else.”
Elastigirl glanced around. “Let me guess—you want one of us to drink that?”
Wendy gave her an innocent look. “Volunteers are always welcome. Especially ones with flexibility.”
A long pause.
Then, with a deep breath and an air of protectiveness, Elastigirl stepped forward.
“Fine. I’ll try it. Better me than the kids.”
Nani grabbed her wrist. “You don’t have to—”
“I’ve been through worse,” Elastigirl said, offering a reassuring smile. “Besides, I want to know what we’re really dealing with here.”
Wendy tapped a touchscreen, and the dispenser began to whirr. A sleek glass tumbler filled with a brilliant, glowing purple liquid.
Elastigirl took it.
The scent was irresistible—like fresh blueberries, mountain air, and the sparkle of morning dew. She hesitated only a moment… and then drank it all in one smooth gulp.
The room waited.
Nothing happened.
At first.
Then she blinked. “That’s… actually really good.”
She turned slightly. “It’s cold, but it’s like… alive in my mouth.”
Suddenly, her eyes widened. “Wait—what’s that—?”
A loud gurgle echoed through the room.
Everyone froze.
Elastigirl clutched her stomach. “Something’s… expanding—!”
BLOOP.
Her arms puffed outward, the skin stretching into plump, rounded shapes. Her suit strained to contain the growing mass. Her legs thickened, wobbling slightly.
“Oh no,” Nani gasped.
Her belly surged forward next, rounding out like a massive ball of dough. Her face flushed as her cheeks inflated like little balloons. She stumbled backward.
“I—I can’t control it!” Elastigirl cried, her voice higher-pitched.
Her entire body began to swell with a deep blue hue. Her skin shimmered, becoming smooth and glossy, a darker and darker shade with each second.
Taylor blinked groggily. “She’s turning… into a blueberry…”
Wendy leaned against a counter, watching calmly. “Yes. A perfect specimen of Juicy Bloom Protocol. Rich in antioxidants and sass.”
Elastigirl groaned as her arms sank into her sides, her legs fusing beneath her. She was no longer shaped like a person, but like a massive, living blueberry—over six feet wide and almost perfectly spherical.
Only her face, framed by her reddish-brown hair, remained visible—struggling to speak.
“Wendy!” she cried. “Fix this!”
“I could,” Wendy replied. “But that would mean erasing the effects. You’d lose everything the juice gave you.”
“LIKE WHAT?!”
“Clarity. Purity. Purpose.”
“I’M A FRUIT!”
Wendy tilted her head. “A fruit with wisdom. You can see clearly now, can’t you? You felt it while the transformation happened—what you were, and what you could become.”
“I WANT MY BODY BACK!”
Wendy slowly approached and crouched beside the round, indigo sphere.
“I warned each of you. My factory reflects who you are. Your flaws, your strengths, your truths. You could stretch, Elastigirl, further than any of us—but you never stopped stretching. For your family. For your city. For everything. You were never allowed to just be.”
Elastigirl blinked, her expression softening for just a moment.
“You think this is what I need?” she whispered.
“Still. Full. Safe,” Wendy said gently. “And here, you’ll never be asked to do more.”
“But… my kids…”
“They’re strong. They’ll grow.”
Silence hung in the air.
Then Elastigirl exhaled slowly. “…I don’t feel scared.”
“Then you’re ready to stay.”
With a motion, Wendy summoned a fleet of soft-cushioned hover-pods. Gently, they lifted the blueberry-woman and floated her away through a glowing arch of vines and light.
Nani and Lilo watched, mouths open.
“Will we… see her again?” Lilo asked.
“Of course,” Wendy said with a smile. “Just not in the same shape.”
Only two families remained as the group exited the Juice Innovation Chamber. Nani held Lilo close, still in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. Taylor lumbered slowly beside them, now easily twice her original size, her belly jiggling with each step. Her pop-star glamor had been buried under layers of weight, but she still tried to hum her latest hit as if nothing had changed.
And then there was Ming Lee—calm, stern, and unimpressed.
She had said nothing throughout Elastigirl’s transformation. But her silence hadn’t been resignation—it had been calculation. She watched everything with laser focus, always analyzing.
Wendy strolled ahead, her cane twirling lazily.
“Our next stop,” she said, “isn’t a room at all. It’s a decision.”
The hallway ended at a softly glowing chamber with mirrored walls and a cushioned floor. At its center stood a throne-like chair made of caramelized sugar and humming wires.
“This,” Wendy declared, “is the Reset Chamber. For those who want to return to who they were—or try.”
“Try?” Nani asked carefully.
“Sometimes the factory grants reversal,” Wendy said. “But only when the lesson has been fully learned. You can’t just press ‘undo’ without understanding the reason you changed.”
Taylor raised her chubby arm lazily. “Is it like a... gym chamber or something?”
“No,” Wendy said, chuckling. “This is for the willful. The stubborn. Those who insist they were fine as-is. It's for… people like her.”
She turned toward Ming.
Ming narrowed her eyes. “So you're implying my daughter’s been changed forever by your… fruity nonsense?”
“She was never my target,” Wendy said calmly. “You were.”
Ming crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”
“The control. The rules. The obsession with perfection. All for what? For a daughter you couldn't let grow freely?”
“I’m a mother. I protect her.”
“You smothered her,” Wendy said flatly. “And I don’t mean in hugs.”
Ming's face flushed. “So now I’m being accused of bad parenting by a woman who just turned a superhero into a grape balloon?!”
“Blueberry,” Wendy corrected.
“That does it.” Ming stormed forward. “You’re going to reverse every change. Right now.”
“I warned you,” Wendy said, placing a hand on the Reset Chamber’s console. “Reversal is not always what you think it is.”
“Do it.”
Nani stepped forward. “Maybe you should—”
“Do it!” Ming snapped.
Wendy sighed, then tapped the screen. The throne began to glow, its wires curling like vines.
“Sit down,” she said.
Ming did so, her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. The chamber hummed to life. The walls flickered with projections of Mei—laughing, dancing, transforming into her red panda form. Ming’s eyes stayed locked forward.
Then the wires surged.
Ming gasped.
A rush of light shot through her body—and instantly, she began to swell.
First her stomach, ballooning forward with alarming speed. Then her hips, her thighs, her arms. Her perfectly pressed blouse began to tear at the seams.
“No—wait—what—”
Her cheeks inflated, her chin doubled, then tripled. Her shoes burst off her swelling feet. The throne creaked under the immense weight now pressing down upon it.
Wendy observed calmly.
“This is reversal, Ming,” she said. “Reversing your grip, your control. Your refusal to accept softness, in others or yourself.”
“STOP THIS!” Ming bellowed, now nearly the size of a refrigerator.
“I told you,” Wendy said. “This factory reflects the truth. And the truth is—you’ve always feared becoming less than perfect. Now you’ll learn to live with it.”
Ming's body continued to swell—her arms sinking into her sides, her belly drooping and folding over her knees. She was now so large she filled the entire Reset Chamber.
“Wendy, please—”
Her voice trembled now. Not with rage, but desperation.
“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Ming whispered. “I just… didn’t know how to let go.”
The swelling slowed.
The wires retracted.
Ming sat there, now an enormous woman of immense size, cheeks flushed with emotion and body heaving with breath. She could barely move, but she could feel—more than she had in years.
Wendy stepped forward.
“She doesn’t need a perfect mother. She needs a present one.”
Tears slipped down Ming’s now-round cheeks.
Lilo tugged on Nani’s shirt. “Can… can we help her?”
“We can try,” Nani whispered.
Wendy smiled.
“Empathy. The rarest flavor.”
With a gentle touch, she closed the chamber and guided the rest of the group onward.
Only Nani and Lilo, and the massively bloated Taylor, remained.
“Two left,” Wendy said. “And one very final surprise.”
The last corridor was nothing like the others.
Gone were the spinning walls, gooey candy scents, and bizarre architecture. Instead, Nani and Lilo followed Wendy into a quiet hallway of polished wood, dimly lit by golden lanterns. It felt… real. Grounded. Human.
Taylor Swift waddled behind them, sweat beading on her forehead. Her massive frame strained at her stretched clothing. She huffed with each step but refused to stop singing softly to herself.
Behind them, the now-enormous Ming Lee remained trapped in the Reset Chamber. The Oompa-Loompas had brought her a warm blanket and a large cup of herbal tea.
Wendy stopped in front of a simple wooden door.
“This,” she said, “is the Heart Room.”
Nani tilted her head. “The what?”
“It’s not flashy. Not funny. No bouncing bubble gum or squirrels or shrink rays,” Wendy explained. “Just a key. Yours.”
Wendy opened the door.
Inside was a modest island kitchen. A table. A fridge. Sunlight streaming through a bay window that overlooked what appeared to be… Kaua‘i.
Nani’s breath caught.
Lilo ran inside first. “It’s our home!”
There was their old fridge—with the broken handle. The red kettle. The faded couch with that one cushion Stitch had chewed the corner off.
Nani stepped in slowly. “How…”
Wendy smiled. “The factory gives you what you carry in your heart. And yours? It’s simple: safety, home, love.”
Taylor huffed in from behind and flopped into the chair, the wooden legs groaning.
“Is this the grand prize?” she wheezed. “A kitchen?”
“For some,” Wendy said.
Nani turned toward her. “So… is it just us left?”
“Yes,” Wendy said. “You passed.”
“Passed what?”
“The test,” Wendy said. “This entire tour—each room, each transformation—it wasn’t about sweets. It was about choice. Who you are when no one’s looking. What you’ll give up, and what you’ll stand for.”
She paced slowly around the room, touching a counter here, a toaster there.
“You’ve shown restraint where others lost themselves. You showed compassion, even after seeing what this place can do.”
“Wait,” Taylor cut in. “So I don’t win?”
“You sang through half the factory and ate a literal chocolate bridge,” Wendy said kindly. “I’d say you survived, which is more than most.”
Taylor pouted, her wide cheeks wobbling. “I was kind of hoping for a music deal…”
“Maybe I’ll produce you one day,” Wendy offered with a smirk.
Then she turned to Nani.
“There’s something I haven’t told anyone—not even the press.”
She reached into her coat pocket and removed a small key made entirely of clear candy crystal.
“I’m done,” Wendy said.
Nani blinked. “Done?”
“The factory. The recipes. The work. I’ve created enough marvels to fill lifetimes. But it needs a new heart. A new soul to guide it.”
Wendy pressed the key into Nani’s palm.
“I want you to take over.”
Nani stared down at it. “I’m not… I’m not a candy maker.”
“You’re not,” Wendy agreed. “You’re better. You’re someone who knows the value of family. Of hunger. Of protecting what matters.”
Nani looked up slowly. “What about Lilo?”
“She’ll live here. With you. And with the factory’s magic… she’ll have anything she needs.”
Lilo, who had been snooping through the fridge, gasped. “Can we put peanut butter in everything?”
“If you run the place,” Wendy said, “then yes.”
Taylor moaned dramatically from her chair. “Ugh… can I at least get a care package?”
Wendy laughed. “I’ll have the Oompa-Loompas send you home in a marshmallow limousine.”
As if on cue, a tiny horn honked outside. Through the window, a puffy pink car made entirely of sponge sugar was parked near a peppermint curb.
Taylor squealed in delight. “YESSSSS.”
She tried to stand… and failed.
“Help?” she asked weakly.
Two Oompa-Loompas strolled in and began gently rolling her toward the exit.
Once Taylor was gone, Wendy turned back to Nani.
“You’re the first winner in decades,” she said softly. “And you’ve earned it.”
“But what about you?” Nani asked. “What will you do?”
Wendy looked out the window toward the candy horizon. “I think I’ll travel. See a few real sunsets. Maybe buy a farm. Maybe grow vegetables instead of sugar for once.”
Nani held the crystal key tighter.
“This place… it won’t change me, right?”
“It will,” Wendy said honestly. “But only in the ways that matter.”
She placed a hand over Nani’s.
“It will make you softer in some ways, stronger in others. It will ask questions and give few answers. But it will never stop loving you back.”
Lilo skipped over, holding a lollipop as big as her head.
“Can Stitch come live here too?”
“Of course,” Wendy grinned. “Every good factory needs a mischief-maker.”
As the golden sun poured into the kitchen, Wendy turned toward the door.
“This is where I leave you,” she said.
Nani stood, unsure. “Will we see you again?”
Wendy smiled, sad but satisfied.
“Perhaps in the swirl of a gumdrop, or the fizz of a new soda.”
And with that, she walked out.
The door closed softly behind her.
In the months that followed, the headlines rang around the world:
WENDY WONKA DISAPPEARS. SUCCESSOR FOUND. FACTORY REOPENS UNDER NEW HEART.
But inside the Chocolate Factory, things were different.
The Oompa-Loompas now wore aloha shirts. Coconut candy filled the fountains. And Nani? She never stopped smiling.
And somewhere, far off, on a beach filled with real waves and no sugar… Wendy Wonka dipped her toes into the water, and watched her first sunset in years.