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“Marvin, I thought you were treating our relationship seriously!” Whizzer burst into their apartment, bags in hand, his face red from a mix of the cold outside and obvious frustration.
“I am treating our relationship seriously,” Marvin replied, raising an eyebrow as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Why would you think otherwise?”
“You’re related to Willy Wonka!” Whizzer exclaimed, waving his arms dramatically.
Marvin blinked, utterly baffled. “Related to who ?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Whizzer groaned, dropping the bags on the counter. “He’s all anyone’s been talking about for the past six weeks!”
“Yeah, well, you know I’m not really into celebrity gossip,” Marvin said with a shrug, trying—and failing—to make sense of Whizzer’s outburst.
“You read the newspaper every single day, Marvin.”
“And I skip the first articles,” Marvin said defensively. “They’re shallow and boring.”
Whizzer let out a frustrated laugh, rubbing his temples. “Oh my…just sit down. Please. ”
Marvin obediently sat down, watching Whizzer with a faint smirk as the latter plopped onto the couch next to him and grabbed his hand firmly. Whizzer's sudden shift to absolute seriousness was almost comical, but Marvin could tell this wasn’t the time to tease.
“Listen to me very carefully now,” Whizzer said, his voice low and deliberate, as if he were about to reveal the secrets of the universe.
Marvin's smirk widened. “Alright, I’m listening.”
“Willy Wonka,” Whizzer began, “is the greatest chocolate man in history. He’s a legend . His candies are world-famous—sold in billions of pieces every month.”
Marvin raised an eyebrow. “Okay…?”
Whizzer leaned in closer, as if this next part were sacred knowledge. “As his factory grew, his workers started stealing his recipes. So, he fired everyone. Cleaned house. And then—get this—the factory reopened, running like clockwork, but no one has ever seen anyone go in or out of it since.”
Marvin crossed his arms, skeptical. “Well, that just sounds like a clever marketing technique. Keep people curious, make them buy more.”
Whizzer groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Marv! You don’t get it! The man makes miracles !”
“Whizzer, baby…” Marvin began, raising his hand in a gesture of surrender.
“I am not done!” Whizzer cut him off, his eyes narrowing in determination.
Marvin sighed, sitting back. “Go on.”
“So, about six weeks ago, Wonka announced that he’d put golden tickets in five of his chocolates and sent them to random places all over the world. Those tickets are invitations to his factory.”
Marvin tilted his head. “Just to warn you, I’m not going to spend a ridiculous amount of money on chocolate.”
“Let me finish!” Whizzer almost shouted, a mix of irritation and excitement bubbling over.
“Okay, okay, sorry.” Marvin held up his hands again, gesturing for Whizzer to continue.
“So, I got hired by a newspaper to take photos of the kids who won tickets. You know, they were invited to the factory today.”
“Oh,” Marvin said, a touch more interested now. “How’d that go?”
“ Shush! ” Whizzer scolded, his excitement clearly mounting. “So, I went there, snapped some photos of the kids, and then… Wonka appeared. No one has seen him in decades! And when I saw him… I thought I was dreaming.”
Marvin raised an eyebrow, confused. “You’re a fan of the chocolate man now?”
“No!” Whizzer exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “It’s not that. He looked almost exactly like you! Like… a bit older, less handsome, and way more particular. But still, you !”
“Nah. You’re kidding,” Marvin said, crossing his arms, clearly skeptical.
“Really!” Whizzer jumped up, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV. “I’m telling you, there’s no way this isn’t connected. There’s gotta be a channel showing his introduction.”
Whizzer was right.
On the screen appeared a man in a purple cape, a ridiculously tall hat perched on his head, and a sly grin spread across his face. But what grabbed their attention most wasn’t the eccentric outfit or the theatrical pose. It was the undeniable resemblance to Marvin.
Marvin squinted at the screen. “…Okay, that’s weird.”
“ See? ” Whizzer pointed at the TV as if it proved everything. “He has to be related to you!”
“I don’t have anyone in my family with the last name Wonka, ” Marvin said, shaking his head.
“Maybe on your mother’s side?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t believe it,” Whizzer insisted. “He must be some long-lost cousin or something. Look at him!”
“Well, some statistics claim there are at least eight people on the planet who look just like you…” Marvin trailed off, clearly not convinced.
“Eight people, sure. But one of them just happens to be a global chocolate icon who lives in a hidden factory and invites kids to magical tours? Come on, Marv.”
Marvin sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly normal explanation for this.”
“Normal?!” Whizzer gestured at the TV. “Look at his face! There’s nothing normal about this!”
“Well, he looks like a hungover version of me,” Marvin said with a smirk. “Thankfully, because if he looked as good as me, I’d be jealous.”
Whizzer laughed, crossing his arms. “He hasn’t got a chance. The guy must be, like, ninety years old by now. I like older men, sure, but not that much older.”
Marvin chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “Glad to hear I’m still in the acceptable age bracket.”
“Barely,” Whizzer teased, nudging him. “Keep this up, and I might start looking for my own chocolate factory owner.”
“Good luck finding one as charming as me,” Marvin quipped, gesturing at himself.
“Or as modest,” Whizzer shot back, grinning.