“Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!
The great big greedy nincompoop!
How long could we allow this beast
To gorge and guzzle, feed and feast
On everything he wanted to?
Great Scott! It simply wouldn’t do!
However long this pig might live
We’re positive he’d never give
Even the smallest bit of fun
Or happiness to anyone
So what we do in cases such
As this, we use the gentle touch
And carefully we take the brat
And turn him into something that
Will give great pleasure to us all–
A doll, for instance, or a ball
Or marbles or a rocking horse
But this revolting boy, of course
Was so unutterably vile
So greedy, foul, and infantile
He left a most disgusting taste
Inside our mouths, and so in haste
We chose a thing that, come what may
Would take the nasty taste away
‘Come on!’ we cried, ‘The time is ripe
To send him shooting up the pipe!
He has to go! It has to be!’
And very soon, he’s going to see
Inside the room to which he’s gone
Some funny things are going on
But don’t, dear children, be alarmed;
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed
Although, of course, we must admit
He will be altered quite a bit
He’ll be quite changed from what he’s been
When he goes through the fudge machine:
Slowly, the wheels go round and round
The cogs begin to grind and pound;
A hundred knives go slice, slice, slice;
We add some sugar, cream, and spice;
We boil him for a minute more
Until we’re absolutely sure
That all the greed and all the gall
Is boiled away for once and all
Then out he comes! And now! By grace!
A miracle has taken place!
This boy, who only just before
Was loathed by men from shore to shore
This greedy brute, this louse’s ear
Is loved by people everywhere!
For who could hate or bear a grudge
Against a luscious bit of fudge?”