The Missing Golden Ticket and Other Splendiferous Secrets by Roald Dahl

Author:Roald Dahl
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781101636268
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Mr. Piker, Miranda’s father, stepped forward and faced Mr. Wonka. He had a smooth white face like a boiled onion.

“Now see here, Wonka,” he said. “I happen to be the headmaster of a large school, and I won’t allow you to sell this rubbish to the children! It’s. . . criminal! Why, you’ll ruin the school system of the entire country!”

“I hope so,” said Mr. Wonka.

“It’s got to be stopped!” shouted Mr. Piker, waving his cane.

“Who’s going to stop it?” asked Mr. Wonka. “In my factory, I make things to please children. I don’t care about grown-ups.”

“I am top of my form,” Miranda Piker said, smirking at Mr. Wonka. “And I’ve never missed a day’s school in my life.”

“Then it’s time you did,” Mr. Wonka said.

“How dare you!” said Mr. Piker.

“All holidays and vacations should be stopped!” cried Miranda. “Children are meant to work, not play.”

“Quite right, my girl,” cried Mr. Piker, patting Miranda on the top of the head. “All work and no play has made you what you are today.”

“Isn’t she wonderful?” said Mrs. Piker, beaming at her daughter.

“Come on then, Father!” cried Miranda. “Let’s go down into the cellar and smash the machine that makes this dreadful stuff!”

“Forward!” shouted Mr. Piker, brandishing his cane and making a dash for the little red door on which it said MOST SECRET—KEEP OUT.

“Stop!” said Mr. Wonka. “Don’t go in there! It’s terribly secret!”

“Let’s see you stop us, you old goat!” shouted Miranda.

“We’ll smash it to smithereens!” yelled Mr. Piker. And a few seconds later the two of them had disappeared through the door.

There was a moment’s silence.

Then, far off in the distance, from somewhere deep underground, there came a fearful scream.

“That’s my husband!” cried Mrs. Piker, going blue in the face.

There was another scream.

“And that’s Miranda!” yelled Mrs. Piker, beginning to hop around in circles. “What’s happening to them? What have you got down there, you dreadful beast?”

“Oh nothing much,” Mr. Wonka answered. “Just a lot of cogs and wheels and chains and things like that, all going round and round and round.”

“You villain!” she screamed. “I know your tricks! You’re grinding them into powder! In two minutes my darling Miranda will come pouring out of one of those dreadful pipes, and so will my husband!”

“Of course,” said Mr. Wonka. “That’s part of the recipe.”

“It’s what!”

“We’ve got to use one or two schoolmasters occasionally or it wouldn’t work.”

“Did you hear him?” shrieked Mrs. Piker, turning to the others. “He admits it! He’s nothing but a cold-blooded murderer!”

Mr. Wonka smiled and patted Mrs. Piker gently on the arm.

“Dear lady,” he said, “I was only joking.”

“Then why did they scream?” snapped Mrs. Piker. “I distinctly heard them scream!”

“Those weren’t screams,” Mr. Wonka said. “They were laughs.”

“My husband never laughs,” said Mrs. Piker.

Mr. Wonka flicked his fingers, and up came an Oompa-Loompa.

“Kindly escort Mrs. Piker to the boiler room,” Mr. Wonka said. “Don’t fret, dear lady,” he went on, shaking Mrs. Piker warmly by the hand. “They’ll all come out in the wash. There’s nothing to worry about.

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