parrot.
‘Good gracious me!’ said Mr Salt, as he watched his fat wife go
tumbling down the hole, ‘what a lot of rubbish there’s going to be
today!’ He saw her disappearing into the darkness. ‘What’s it like down
there, Angina?’ he called out. He leaned further forward.
The squirrels rushed up behind him...
‘Help!’ he shouted.
But he was already toppling forward, and down the chute he went,
just as his wife had done before him – and his daughter.
‘Oh dear!’ cried Charlie, who was watching with the others through
the door, ‘what on earth’s going to happen to them now?’
‘I expect someone will catch them at the bottom of the chute,’ said Mr
Wonka.
‘But what about the great fiery incinerator?’ asked Charlie.
‘They only light it every other day,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘Perhaps this is
one of the days when they let it go out. You never know... they might be
lucky...’
‘Ssshh!’ said Grandpa Joe. ‘Listen! Here comes another song!’
From far away down the corridor came the beating of drums. Then
the singing began.
‘Veruca Salt!’ sang the Oompa-Loompas.