Showing posts with label chocolate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chocolate. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

April 14, 2009: Factory Visit

LOLSCHACH's Journal: April 14, 2009:

Woke up early to the sound of Dreiberg's ship's engines and the insistent honking of his horn. Put on aftershave, then face. Ready to greet the day and the fat pilot who will take me to this chocolate factory. Bad feeling in stomach, possible hunger due to lack of consumption of nutrients last night. Possible warning of the day to come.

Dreiberg compliments the aftershave. Creates awkward silence for flight. Notice Dreiberg already salivating at thought of candies awaiting at the factory. Disgusting. Again reminds me of Veidt at Village People concert.



Arrive at factory, belching smoke into the air like a drunk trying to belch the alphabet. Dreiberg practically giggling in anticipation. I roll my eyes under my face. Sad how a man who once brought terror into criminals nightly now resembles a girl laughing seductively in a Japanese sex cartoon. So few of us left that are not mockeries of former selves.Await at gate for arrival of our host. Factory does not look inviting. No clue why Dreiberg acting like a teenaged boy on prom night. More than he usually does.

Shocked to find a man stumbling out, pale, shuffling towards us. Wearing a top hat and long purple coat. Must share the same tailor as Veidt. Greets Dreiberg and myself with a hoarse voice. "Welcome oh blessed holders of the golden ticket. Welcome to the magic that is the, uh, chocolate factory." Dreiberg too excited to even speak. I respond with a "Hurm."



We enter through the heavy iron gates. Factory seems more like a prison. Starting a tour, old man singing to us in torturing tones. Sounding more like dying breaths of NANASHACH than a boisterous chocolate maker. Walking done hallway splattered with dried chocolate in random meaningless patterns. Surprised Dreiberg is able to restrain himself from licking the walls.

Walk past another set of iron gates into the fountain room. Man says this is where his chocolate is churned. Evaluate the surroundings and find self extremely unimpressed. This chocolate factory resembles mother's bedroom, with men fighting to be next to sample treats. Dreiberg joins in brawl.



Sinister smirk appears on the face of our host. Dreiberg and other men being forced down the river by chocolaty rapids. Dumbfounded. Then something bizarre, yes even more bizarre than nearly nude men fighting for a drink from a chocolate river, happens. A door opens and orange midgets walk out.



Can hear song over the laughs of cackling madman who claims to be a chocolatier.

"Oompa Loompa oompity dee daddle
They're up chocolate creek without a paddle
Oompa Loompa oompity dee do
But what fate lies ahead for you

What do you get when your face is a blot
Lots of chocolate, actually not
Instead you'll be captured too
Just like the Oompa Loompa oompity dee do"


Feel pity for the midgets, but admire their singing voice. Then realize situation. Old man inprisons midgets. Turn them orange, probably forcefeeds them carrot juice. Good for eyesight, not good for complexion.

Old man seeks to torture us. Turn LOLSCHACH into candy to be consumed by children and fat impotent retired mask adventurers. No, not now. Not ever.

Lunge at old man, attempts to fight back by caning me. LOLSCHACH feeling sugar rush, heh. Impervious to pain. Punch man in face, breaking teeth. Old man gasping for breath as he chokes on sweet tooth. New idea. Pull out a chain, always carry it. Only thing MILFSCHACH left me. Called it Babysitter. Fine memories of nights with chain. TV. Popcorn.

Wrap it around man. Punch him one more time. Give him to midgets to enforce their own punishment.


See midgets pull out a chainsaw, cutting man at knees while chanting, "One of us. One of us." Can't help but smile. Jump in river to save Dreiberg. Will bitch him out later for moronic idea of tour. Veidt's club would have been better.

Monday, April 13, 2009

April 13, 2009: Dreiberg's Kitchen

LOLSCHACH's Journal: April 13, 2009:

Hungry since Pac-Land excursion. Break into Dreiberg's for beans. Open cabinet. No beans. Remembering phrase Dreiberg repeats, look inside refrigerator. No cool beans. Huge disappointment. Nothing to eat but candy bars. Try one called Mr. Goodbar. Spit it out after two chomps. False advertising. Mixture of peanut butter and chocolate, cannot tell which comes first. No seperation, but intermingling of flavors.



Pick up another candy bar, and unwrap it. Something gold catches my eye. Toss it aside. Hear Dreiberg walk in, complaining about broken lock. Sees me. "Fuuuuuuuck. Really, LOLSCHACH, Really? I thought you would get the hint since I haven't bought beans in months." Look at Dreiberg, has pants unzipped. Point that out. He turns bright shade of red. Reminds me of rouge seen on cheeks of whore walking 76th street.

Dreiberg awkwardly turns around, corrects situation then notices piece of golden paper on floor. Starts jumping up and down, nearly bringing the apartment down on both of our heads. Breaks into song. Disturbed and disgusted as overweight man dances around, "I've got a golden ticket." Alarmed and starting to make my exit only to be stopped.

"LOLSCHACH, you know what this means? We've got the golden ticket. We're going to the factory!" Explain to Dreiberg that I've already been to the retarded children jerky factory. He stares at me dumbfounded.

"Ummmmm, no. Not that factory. THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY!!!!" Dreiberg smiling and dancing, looking like Veidt at a Village People concert.



Suddenly understand why. He's planning another trip. This time to Veidt's nightclub. "No, no, no. It's an actual chocolate factory. The greatest chocolate factory in the world."

Dreiberg spends hours reassuring me this is not Veidt's famous den of sin. Finally convinced. Agree to go along, nothing better to do. Factory visit set for tomorrow morning. 8AM sharp. Must go home. Sleep. Criminals will not feel the wrath of LOLSCHACH tonight.

TO BE CONTINUED....