Second Class; outside the theater
Well this was just unexpected. Sarcasm not included. To Willy Wonka, this was the most fantabulous fantastical fanterrific thing that could ever happen, and his enthusiasm was easy to catch. Never mind that this wasn't the right body or the right gender or anything right at all. He had a sense of foreboding within, but with most unhappy senses, he ignored it altogether. This was curious and brilliant and bizarre and like nothing he could imagine, and that was saying a great deal, when stuck within the body of the most inventive man in fiction. Or one of them. The grandiose feelings were part of the dramatic flair.
Instead of concern he smiled broadly and strode around with confidence, amazed and fascinated. If he was placed in this situation, at least he should find out the secrets and see what was in store. With his bright purple coat and beige bow over a colorful pink shirt, he stood out. The orange top hat added to it on top of wispy golden hair. Why there could be excellent music to go with this, could there not? He would ordinarily never sing in public, but this was not there, that was far far away, perhaps a dream there or a dream here or a dream everywhere.
He was drawn, naturally, to the theater first, but it was dark and quiet, and that didn't suit his needs in the least. With an annoyed sound he huffed out, only glancing briefly at the screen ... and then again he did peek back in again. With the door firmly shut Willy twirled his cane and thought of where to go next. Front row seats meant nothing when there wasn't much to see. If only there was a program on this strange journey of theirs. At this point nothing would surprise him anymore. He straightened out his hat and looked around for something to amuse him.