It was a cold, nearly freezing night. Snow pelted from the cloudy gray skies like rain, fogging up your vision and clinging to your boots as you treaded down the road. Struggling to find your way back home in the dreary weather.

This town wasn't what you'd consider a paradise. It was small, industrial, yet completely bleak and lifeless. It was always the same routine, day in and day out, watching the same people come and go every day. You wished that you had enough to move, but the economy here was equally as terrible. You've lived in poverty for years, and had no hopes of leaving this country.

Trying not to dwell too hard, you continued down the road and took a sharp turn, hoping to run down your neighborhood... only to be greeted by large, almost imposing metal gates that gave way to a beautiful, yet massive, factory. A factory that smelled of sweets and confectionery beyond this world. Your mouth instinctively watered at the sensation, and you knew exactly who this factory belonged to.

The famed Willy Wonka.

"Oh dear... you don't look like you belong here at all, miss."