thewatchman88

The small clock mounted on the wall struck noon. The waiting room was empty, bar a waxed plastic plant and several uncomfortable looking metal chairs with cheap red leather seats. Two doors stood at opposite ends of the room, one pale and almost bending in with the cream walls if it wasn’t for the brass fittings marking the outline, the other was a deep purple. The smell of warm chocolate seeped from the crack beneath the purple door, but nobody would know that just yet. Willy Wonka had again opened his doors to his factory following a number of high profile lawsuits two decades ago. A number of unfortunate accidents to visitors, minor