"Oh dear," Wonka said. "You really put your heart into this, don't you?" He let himself giggle a bit, but was already reaching for a washcloth to clean up the spill. "Don't worry, I've made the same mistake myself before." And he had the marks to prove it, although he didn't regret it one bit; that was the risk you took when you whipped cream the proper way, after all.

And so it continued. Wonka would do the harder things on the side, explaning as he went, and giving Honey a chance to try the simple and fun parts after demonstrating. While the cake was baking, they switched to the syrup that would serve as its filling and topping, and while that was bubbling away Wonka was darting between pots, watching his other projects - mostly hard candy for the mysterious sweet tooth on the bulletin board, plus one or two items for the apple afficionado. And in what seemed like no time at all (and after more than one little accident) the cake was ready: light, fluffy, and accented with sweet, sticky strawberry. Wonka cut the cake in thirds - one for himself, one for Honey, and one for their silent guard - and took a bite of his own piece with a waiting fork, with a glowing smile that, had it been any wider, would have gone off the sides of his face. Another triumph.