‘Look, Grandpa!’ cried Charlie. ‘There’s a door in the wall!’ It was a green door and it was set into the wall of the tunnel just above the level of the river. As they flashed past it there was just enough time to read the writing on the door: STOREROOM NUMBER 54, it said. ALL THE CREAMS — DAIRY CREAM, WHIPPED CREAM, VIOLET CREAM, COFFEE CREAM, PINEAPPLE CREAM, VANILLA CREAM, AND HAIR CREAM.
‘Hair cream?’ cried Mike Teavee. ‘You don’t use hair cream?’
‘Row on!’ shouted Mr Wonka. ‘There’s no time to answer silly questions!’
They streaked past a black door. STOREROOM NUMBER 71, it said on it. WHIPS — ALL SHAPES AND SIZES.
‘Whips!’ cried Veruca Salt. ‘What on earth do you use whips for?’
‘For whipping cream, of course,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘How can you whip cream without whips? Whipped cream isn’t whipped cream at all unless it’s been whipped with whips. Just as a poached egg isn’t a poached egg unless it’s been stolen from the woods in the dead of night! Row on, please!’
They passed a yellow door on which it said: STOREROOM NUMBER 77 — ALL THE BEANS, CACAO BEANS, COFFEE BEANS, JELLY BEANS, AND HAS BEANS.
‘Has beans?’ cried Violet Beauregarde.
‘You’re one yourself!’ said Mr Wonka. ‘There’s no time for arguing! Press on, press on!’ But five seconds later, when a bright red door came into sight ahead, he suddenly waved his gold-topped cane in the air and shouted, ‘Stop the boat!’
19
The Inventing Room —
Everlasting Gobstoppers and Hair Toffee
When Mr Wonka shouted ‘Stop the boat!’ the Oompa-Loompas jammed their oars into the river and backed water furiously. The boat stopped.
The Oompa-Loompas guided the boat alongside the red door. On the door it said, INVENTING ROOM — PRIVATE — KEEP OUT. Mr Wonka took a key from his pocket, leaned over the side of the boat, and put the key in the keyhole.
‘This is the most important room in the entire factory!’ he said. ‘All my most secret new inventions are cooking and simmering in here! Old Fickelgruber would give his front teeth to be allowed inside just for three minutes! So would Prodnose and Slugworth and all the other rotten chocolate makers! But now, listen to me! I want no messing about when you go in! No touching, no meddling, and no tasting! Is that agreed?’
‘Yes, yes!’ the children cried. ‘We won’t touch a thing!’
‘Up to now,’ Mr Wonka said, ‘nobody else, not even an Oompa-Loompa, has ever been allowed in here!’ He opened the door and stepped out of the boat into the room. The four children and their parents all scrambled after him.
‘Don’t touch!’ shouted Mr Wonka. ‘And don’t knock anything over!’
Charlie Bucket stared around the gigantic room in which he now found himself. The place was like a witch’s kitchen! All about him black metal pots were boiling and bubbling on huge stoves, and kettles were hissing and pans were sizzling, and strange iron machines were clanking and spluttering, and there were pipes running all over the ceiling and walls, and the whole place was filled with smoke and steam and delicious rich smells.
Mr Wonka himself had suddenly become even more excited than usual, and anyone could see that this was the room he loved best of all. He was hopping about among the saucepans and the machines like a child among his Christmas presents, not knowing which thing to look at first. He lifted the lid from a huge pot and took a sniff; then he rushed over and dipped a finger into a barrel of sticky yellow stuff and had a taste; then he skipped across to one of the machines and turned half a dozen knobs this way and that; then he peered anxiously through the glass door of a gigantic oven, rubbing his hands and cackling with delight at what he saw inside. Then he ran over to another machine, a small shiny affair that kept going phut-phut-phut-phut-phut, and every time it went phut, a large green marble dropped out of it into a basket on the floor. At least it looked like a marble.