Wonka/Transcript

Willy: (sings) After seven years of life upon the ocean, it is time to bid the seven seas farewell. And the city I’ve pinned seven years of hopes on lies just over the horizon. I can hear the harbor bell.
Land ahoy!
Got a tattered overcoat and battered suitcase. 
Au revoir, Chef. 
Got a pair of leaky boots upon my feet
Sorry, Cook!
Gotta drag myself up by my one good bootlace. Gotta work my rotten socks off if I want to make ends meet.
I’ve poured everything I’ve got into my chocolate.
Now it’s time To show the world my recipes.
Good luck, Willy!
I’ve got 12 silver sovereigns in my pocket.
Goodbye, Cook!
And a hatful of dreams
There’s a famous restaurant on every street here.
There’s Brandino’s and the bar Parisienne.
Restaurant map, sir?
Thank you.
Got a little map to tell me where to eat here.
Had a dozen Silver sovereigns.
Now I’m somehow down to ten.
Want the finest produce?
This is where they stock it 
That’s three sovereigns, mate.
Though the prices are suspiciously extreme
Break my pumpkin, you pay for it.
I’ve got… 
Five, six, seven…
Six silver sovereigns in my pocket
and a hatful of dreams.
Boy: Brush your coat, sir?
Willy: No, thank you.
Boy: Cologne?
Willy: No. Leave me alone.
At last.
The Galeries Gourmet.
I knew that We’d see it one day.
It’s everything you said, Mamma.
And oh, so much more.
Each way that you turn, Another famous Chocolate store.
Here’s my destiny.
I just need to unlock it.
Will I crash and burn or go up like a rocket?
I got nothing to offer but my chocolate and a hatful of dreams.
Yeah!
Affable: No daydreaming.
In this city, anyone can be successful.
If they’ve talent And work hard, or so they say.
But they didn’t mention It would be so stressful.
Just to make a dozen silver sovereigns last more than a day.
Could you spare a sovereign for a place to sleep, love?
Of course.
Here. Take all you need.
Thank you.
I’ve got one silver sovereign in my pocket. (sighs) And a hatful of dreams
Hmm.
There we go.
Time for a little nightcap.
Mm.
Okay.
Hello there. No, stop. Hey, shoo.
Go away, stop!
Go away, shoo! Shoo!
Bleacher: Stop! Sit. Sorry about Tiddles. Seems to have an unusual interest in your legs. (chuckles)
Must be these pants.
I got them from a mailman in Minsk.
(chuckles) That would be it.
Tiddles would spend all day pursuing postal workers if he could.
Wouldn’t you, boy?
You’re not planning on sleeping there, are you, son?
Oh, it’s just for a night.
By this time tomorrow, I plan to have made my fortune.
By this time tomorrow, you’ll be frozen solid.
Oh, don’t be ridiculous.
Ooh.
Perhaps it is a little cold for camping.
But unfortunately, I’m not in a position to pay for a room, sir.
Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.
Mmm.
But as luck would have it, I know someone who might be able to help you out.
Really?
Here we are, Mr. Wonka.
Home sweet home.
Mrs. Scrubitt: Get your filthy paws off my front door, you mangy mutt. If that’s you, Bleacher, you’d better have my gin.
Bleacher: Oh, I have something better than gin, Mrs. Scrubitt. A guest.
Mrs. Scrubitt: Hmm. Oh! Well, why didn’t you say? (snorts) Come on in, sir. Welcome to Scrubitt and Bleacher’s Guest House and Laundry. Make yourself at home, warm your cockles by the fire. Gin?
Bleacher: Oh.
Mrs. Scrubitt: Noodle!
Noodle: Yes, Mrs. Scrubitt?
Put that book down and get our guest a glass o' gin.
Poor man's frozen half to death.
Willy: Thank you, Mrs. Scrubitt. You and your husband have been so kind to me.
Husband?
Him? (laughs)
(chuckles) Husband.
Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't ya?
No.
Oh, I'm holding out for someone far superior to that idle peasant. (Bleacher groans softly)
Chinchin.
(coughs) That is extremely strong stuff.
Yeah, you can run cars on that.
So, what is it I can do for you? Room, is it?
Well, yes, but, uh…
Mr. Wonka is temporarily embarrassed.
(gasps) Oh, no. You don’t say.
Willy: I’m afraid that’s true, Mrs. Scrubitt. But… all that’s about to change.
Oh, yeah?
Willy: You see, I’m something of a magician, inventor and chocolate maker. And first thing tomorrow at the Galeries Gourmet, I plan to unveil my most astonishing creation yet.
Oh?
Prepare to be amazed as I present to you…
A teapot?
No, that’s just for making tea.
(sighs)
One second.
That’s for my stew.
(laughs)
It’s in here somewhere. (chuckles)
Don’t you worry, Mr. Wonka. I can see you’re a man of great ingenuity.
And we’ve got just the thing for ya.
The entrepreneurial package.
Now, the room is one sovereign a night, but you don’t have to pay till 6:00 tomorrow.
Does that give you enough time to earn a few pennies?
More than enough, Mrs. Scrubitt.
Thank you.
Oh, it’s the least I can do for a stranger in need.
Now, sign here and we’re all done.
(chuckles politely)
All righty.
Noodle: (whispers) Read the small print.
Willy: What?
Thank you, Noodle. That’ll do.
Ooh. What’d she say?
Who’s that, then?
The girl.
What girl?
That girl. It sounded like, “Read the small print.” And there does seem to be a lot of…
Oh. Oh. Oh.
Oh. Oh.
Oh. Just keeps on coming.
Yeah, you don’t wanna listen to Noodle, Mr. Wonka.
She’s damaged.
Damaged?
Orphan Syndrome.
Orphan Syndrome?
Orphan Syndrome.
Orphan Syndrome.
She was dropped down the laundry chute as a bab, and I took her in out the goodness of my heart, and I’ve done my best, Mr. Wonka, honest, I have, but she’s been left with a suspicious nature.
She sees conspiracy everywhere.
Poor girl.
I know.
These are just your standard Ts and Cs, but you’re welcome to take a look if you want.
(chuckles)
I’ll just give it a once-over.
(chuckles dryly)
Well, that all seems to be in order.
Really?
Uhhuh.
Hello. (chuckles)
Ah! (chuckles)
Then welcome to Scrubitt’s.
There you are, Mr. Wonka. The entrepreneurial suite.
There’s your four-poster, and your sink plus soap, and there’s a little mint on your pillow.
Willy: Fantastic. What kind people.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: (singsonging) Noodle! Oh, Noodle!
Noodle: Yes, Mrs. Scrubitt?
Mrs. Scrubbitt: I’ve been lookin’ for you.
Noodle: What do you want?
Mrs. Scrubbitt: I wanna teach you a lesson, you miserable little bookworm.
Noodle: What did I do wrong?
Mrs. Scrubbitt: You know what you did, you brat. Stop squirming!
Noodle: What? No, please. (shrieks)
Mrs. Scrubbitt: You ever interfere in my business again, and you’ll be in this coop all week. Do you understand?
Noodle: Yes, Mrs. Scrubitt. Sorry, Mrs. Scrubitt.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: I should think so, too.
Willy: (quietly) Here we go, Mamma. (to the crowd) Ladies and gentlemen of the Galeries Gourmet, my name is Willy Wonka, and I have come to show you a marvelous morsel, an incredible edible, (dramatically) an unbeatable eatable, the likes of which this world has never seen. So quiet up and listen down. No, scratch that, reverse it. I give to you the Hoverchoc.
In a jungle near Mumbai there's a little hoverfly whose wings go at a thousand flaps a sec, and that's no lie. These microscopic fleas like chocolate more than leaves. And when asked nicely, lay precisely one little egg In each of these. When it hatches from its shell, it gives a happy yell. Whoo-hoo! How thrilling to be living in a chocolate hotel. It beats its wings with glee. And then, as you will see, the chocolate will levitate and float most gracefully. Well, there's chocolate and there's chocolate. But only Wonka's makes your eyes pop out their socke-lets. Put your hand Into your pocke-let. Get yourself some Wonka chocolate. Come now, I insist. You've never had chocolate like this. No, you've never had chocolate like this.
Man: Bravo!
Man 2: Bravo!
Willy: Thank you.
Mr. Slugworth: Miss BonBon?
Miss BonBon: Yes, Mr. Slugworth.
Mr. Slugworth: Call the police.
Miss BonBon: Very good, sir.
Willy: (chuckles) Well, who wants to try one?
Man: Me, please!
Mr. Slugworth: (offscreen) I will.
[Willy sees Slugworth approaching him.]
Willy: Mr. Slugworth, sir.
[Fickelgruber is trying to move through the crowd.]
Mr. Fickelgruber: ‘Scuse me.
Willy: Mr. Fickelgruber.
[Mr. Prodnose arrives, pushing through the crowd.]
Willy: And Mr. Prodnose. What an honor. Ever since I was a little boy…
[As he shakes Slugworth’s hand, he can feel his bones breaking.]
Willy: That is quite a handshake.
Mr. Slugworth: It’s a business handshake, Mr. Wonka. Lets people know I mean business. (lets go of Willy's hand)
Willy: Huh…
Mr. Slugworth: Now, come along. Let’s try one of these so-called Hoverchocs.
[The three men try Willy's Hoverchocs.]
Mr. Slugworth: Ooh. It’s not just chocolate, is it? There’s… marshmallow.
Willy: That’s right. Harvested from the mallow marshes of Peru.
Mr. Fickelgruber: And caramel. But… but it’s…
Willy: Salted. With the bittersweet tears of a Russian clown.
Mr. Prodnose: And is that… Surely not? Cherry?
Willy: Cherry-picked by the pick of the cherry pickers from the Imperial Gardens in Japan.
Mr. Slugworth: Well, Mr. Wonka. I’ve been in this business a very long time, and I can safely say that of all the chocolate I have ever tasted, this is without doubt the absolute 100% worst.
Willy: Whoo! There we have it, ladies and gentlemen. An endorsement from Mr… (then) Wait. The worst?
Mr. Slugworth: We three are the fiercest of rivals, and yet we agree on one thing. A good chocolate should be simple. Plain. Uncomplicated.
Mr. Fickelgruber: Whereas this, with all its bells and whistles… (chuckles) Well, it’s just…
Mr. Prodnose: Weird.
Willy: (tuts) That’s a shame. If you thought the chocolate was weird, you’re gonna hate what happens next.
[Then, the three men start to fly up.]
Mr. Slugworth: Hmm? What’s happening? Whoa, what’s going on?
Willy: That’s the hoverfly.  It’s broken out of its cocoon. It’s flapping its wings like billyoh.
Mr. Prodnose: My hair! You mean a fly is doing this?
Willy: Yes. But don’t worry. It’ll be completely unharmed.
Mr. Prodnose: Oh, thank you.
Willy: In about 20 minutes, it’ll get tired and exit through your rear.
Mr. Fickelgruber: You what?
Mr. Prodnose: He means we’re going to fart them out of our botties!
Mr. Fickelgruber: Yes, I know what he meant.
Mr. Slugworth: You’re off your rocker, Wonka! Who in their right mind wants a chocolate that makes you fly?
Willy: Well, let’s find out, shall we? (to the crowd) Who’s for a Hoverchoc?
Man: I want one!
Willy: One sovereign, please. Thank you. Thank you very much. One sovereign. Thank you, madam. Enjoy your flight.
Woman: Look, I’m flying! I’m flying!
Man 1: How’s the view up there?
Man 2: Not too high, darling!
Chief of Police: (passes by Noodle) Beat it, kid. (to the crowd) All right, folks. Nothin’ to see here. Just a small group of people defyin’ the laws of gravity. Yeah. Hook ’em, boys.
Willy: That’s the Hoverchoc, sir. That’s the point.
Affable: I’m afraid we’ve had some complaints about you, sir.
Willy: Complaints?
Affable: That you’re disrupting the trade of other businesses. I’m regrettably obliged to move you on and to confiscate your earnings.
Willy: Hey! What are you doing?
Nun: No!
Chief of Police: Don’t worry, it’s going to a good cause.
Nun: Get off.
Chief of Police: Sick kids, or something.
Affable: Sorry, sir. Rules is rules.
Officer 3: Cheeky devil, you! Come here!
Willy: Could you at least leave me a sovereign? I need to pay for my room.
Affable: (hands Willy a sovereign) Here.
Willy: Thank you.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: Evening, Mr. Wonka. How’d it go?
Willy: Not quite as well as I’d hoped.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: Oh, shame. Well, I’m afraid we do have to settle up now.
Willy: Well, thankfully, the room’s taken care of. Believe we said a sovereign.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: For the room, yes. But you have incurred a few extras during the course of your residency with ourselves.
Willy: Have I?
Mrs. Scrubbitt: Yes, you have. There was that glass of gin you had on arrival, and if I remember rightly, you warmed your cockles by the fire.
Bleacher: He did indeed, Mrs. Scrubitt.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: Cocklewarming is extra, see?
Bleacher: Used the stairs to get to his room, and all.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: Oh, then you’ve got your stair charge, and that is per step, I’m afraid. Up and down. Now, tell me, Mr. Wonka, did you happen to use the mini bar?
Willy: There’s a minibar?
Bleacher: Mini bar of soap.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: By the sink.
Willy: Uh… I might have, briefly.
Bleacher: Ohho!
Mrs. Scrubbitt: See? Even Bleacher knows you never touch the mini bar, and he was raised in a ditch. (snorts) Add in your mattress hire, your linen lease, and your pillow penalty, and you are looking at… Ten thousand sovereigns.
Willy: You gotta be kidding me? (scoffs)
Mrs. Scrubbitt: It’s all in the small print, dearie.
Willy: I don’t have 10,000 sovereigns.
Bleacher: Then we have a problem, Mr. Wonka. 
Mrs. Scrubbitt: You’re gonna have to work it off in the Wash House, ain’t ya? At a sovereign a day.
Willy: Ten thousand days is…
Mrs. Scrubbitt: Twenty-seven years.
Willy: Hey!
Bleacher: Four months.
Mrs. Scrubbitt: And 16 days. (chuckles)
Lofty: So goes a good deed in a weary world.
Willy: I was wondering if I'd see you again.
Lofty: I'm not going anywhere, Willy Wonka. Not until you've paid your debt. Now, I know you tried. Loompa law is very clear on this subject. Until such time as the chocolate is physically in my hand… Oh. Thank you.
Willy: Thank you. For saving my life.
Lofty: Well, I suppose that concludes our business. I will now return to my beloved Loompaland. Where the cocoa beans grow in disappointingly small numbers, and my friends look down on me.
Willy: What? I thought they called you Lofty.
Lofty: The truth is that I am a quarter-inch below average. They call me Shorty-pants.
Willy: (chuckles) But there it is.
Lofty: Good day to you, sir.
Willy: Uh, it's a shame you have to go.
Lofty: I said good day.
Willy: If I'm gonna share my chocolate with the world, I'm gonna need more than a shop.
Lofty: I'm sure you will. 
Willy: I'm gonna need a factory.
Lofty: (chuckles) Yeah, well, good luck with that.
Willy: And someone to head up the tasting department.
Lofty: The tasting department?
Willy: (sings) Come with me
Lofty: All right.
Willy: (sings) And you'll be
Lofty: Where?
Willy: (sings) In a world of pure imagination
Lofty: It's a ruined castle.
Willy: (sings) Take a look and you'll see into your imagination.
Lofty: Frankly, I rather doubt it.
Willy: (sings) We'll begin with a spin traveling in the world of my creation. What we'll see will defy explanation.
Lofty: Well, that does defy explanation.
Willy: (sings) If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it. Anything you want, you do it. Wanna change the world? There's nothing to it.
Lofty: Not bad.
Willy: (sings) There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination Living there, you'll be free if you truly wish to be.
[Fade to black. As the credits roll, Lofty comes in with a big projector.]
Lofty: (sings) Oompa Loompa doompety-do. I've got a little bonus for you. Sit back down and stay in your seat for a last Oompa Loompa-ish treat.
[The projector starts rolling and shows what happened to Wonka’s friends.]
Lofty: (sings) Abacus Crunch returned to his home. Benz to her friends. Lottie Bell to her phones. Brave Larry made a triumphant comeback. One day his ex-wife saw the act. Laughed a lot and took him back. Oompa Loompa doompety-day. But what of Mrs. Scrubitt and Bleacher, you say? Give me just a moment or two, and I'll Oompa Loompa show it to you.
[The projector stops working.]
Lofty: Oh. What is wrong with this thing? Infernal machine. (fixes it and sings) I'll show it to you. (speaks) There. Much better.
[The projection transitions to Scrubbitt counting the money.]
Mrs. Scrubitt: Shoes, facelift, nose job, Ibiza, big old house in the country, lingerie.
[Bleacher enters the workplace to give Scrubbitt the news.]
Bleacher: It's the Cartel. They've gone down.
Mrs. Scrubitt: We ain't done nothin'. Oh, except poison all them chocolates.
[Just then, there was a knock on the door.]
Affable: (offscreen) Police. Open up.
Mrs. Scrubitt: Quick! Drink the evidence.
[She gets out the bottles of elixirs that were used to ruin Wonka’s chocolate shop. Knocking is heard once again.
Mrs. Scrubitt: Oh, just a second, Officer.
[She and Bleacher drink the potions. Cut outside to show Affable, now chief of police, and his men.]
Affable: (knocks on the door) Police.
Mrs. Scrubitt: (offscreen) I'm on the toilet, Officer.
Affable: (knocks on the door) Open up.
[Back inside…]
Mrs. Scrubitt: One wipe, and I'm done. (as she and Bleacher drink) Oh, there's more coming, hang on a minute.
[Outside…]
Affable: Right.
[He and the police burst into the place to see a surprising sight.]
Affable: Wow.
[We see Scrubbitt and Bleacher, now hairy and in multiple colors.]
Mrs. Scrubitt: (pants) How can we help you, Officer? (snorts)
Affable: You two are coming with me.
Bleacher: But we ain't done nothin'.
Affable: You're going away for a very long time.
Mrs. Scrubitt: (sobs) One last kiss, my Lord?
Bleacher: (sobs) Oh, puffy-wuffy.
[They both kiss as they are arrested. Projection ends, resume credits. After the credits, the movie ends.]
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