'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?'