(Willy's POV)
The clock on the mantel strikes six when I enter Mrs. Scrubitt's. Even if I lost all my earnings, at least I got a sovereign to pay for my room. I think back to when I saw that young woman at the Galeries Gourmet. Despite my misfortune, it makes me feel a little proud to know that I was able to impress her.
"Evening, Mr. Wonka," Mrs. Scrubitt greets me from behind the counter. "How'd it go?"
"Not quite as well as I'd hoped," I reply.
"Oh, shame. Well, I'm afraid we do have to settle up now," she says.
"Well, thankfully, the room's taken care of. I believe we said a sovereign?" I recall as I set my sole silver sovereign on the counter.
"For the room, yes. But you have incurred a few extras during the course of your residency with us now," she says.
"Have I?" I ask, confused.
"Yes, you have," she replies, and opens her ledger holding my bill. "There's that glass of gin you had on arrival. And if I remember rightly, you warmed your cockles by the fire."
"He did indeed, Mrs. Scrubitt," Bleacher, who is just coming inside, says and closes the doors, locking them.
"Cockle-warming is extra, see?" Mrs. Scrubitt says.
"Used the stairs to get to his room in the hallway," Bleacher adds.
"Oh, then you've got your stair charge, and that is per stair, I'm afraid, up and down," Mrs. Scrubitt says. "Now tell me, Mr. Wonka, did you happen to use the mini-bar?"
"There's a mini-bar?" I ask.
I don't remember seeing a mini-bar.
"Mini-bar of soap," Bleacher points out.
"By the sink," Mrs. Scrubitt adds.
"I might have, briefly," I reply.
"Ooh-hoo!" Bleacher chortles.
"See, even Bleacher knows you never touch the mini-bar and he was raised in a ditch," Mrs. Scrubitt snorts. "Add in your mattress hire, linen lease, and your pillow penalty and you're looking at. . . ten thousand sovereigns."
"You gotta be kidding me!" I say.
"All in the small print, dearie," Mrs. Scrubitt says with a smirk.
"I don't have ten thousand sovereigns!" I tell her.
The front doors close, and I look to see Bleacher coming toward me, making me back away.
"Then we have a problem, Mr. Wonka," he says.
"You're gonna have to work it off in the Wash House, ain't ya?" Mrs. Scrubitt says.
I jump a bit when Tiddles barks at me.
"At a sovereign a day!" Mrs. Scrubitt adds.
"Ten thousand days?" I question.
"Twenty-seven years. . ." Mrs. Scrubitt starts.
"Four months. . ." Bleacher adds and pushes me back.
"Hey!" I cry out.
"And sixteen days!" Mrs. Scrubitt finishes.
And with that, Bleacher pushes me back again, and I yell as I fall down the laundry chute.
(Third Person POV)
Willy lands in a laundry basket. The Wash House is staffed by four of Mrs. Scrubitt's other guests, all dressed according to their old professions.
"Ah! You must be Mr. Wonka," a man says.
"Who are you?" Willy asks him.
"Abacus Crunch, Chartered Accountant. At least, I was. Now I. . ." he says before a woman comes to help him out of the laundry basket.
"He runs the place. And you'd best do as he says or you'll answer to me. Piper Benz, plumber by trade," she says.
"This is Miss Lottie Bell," Abacus introduces a silent, nervy woman.
"She don't talk much," Piper says.
Another man comes from a different room.
"And I'm Larry Chucklesworth!" he says, and he spins his bow-tie. "Comedian."
"So they got all of you too, did they?" Willy asks.
"I'm afraid so. We each of us found ourselves in need of a cheap place to stay and neglected to read the small print," Abacus explains.
"One moment of stupidity followed by. . . endless regret," Piper says, her voice cracking a bit.
"Sounds like my third marriage!" Larry wheezes before turning sincere when he sees the look on Willy's face. "I'm sorry, I do that a lot."
"He does," Abacus confirms.
"A lot," Piper agrees.
"I've only been married once and it didn't work out," Larry explains sadly.
"There's gotta be some way out of here," Willy says, and he sees some stairs and walks up a couple steps.
"You don't think we've tried? There are bars on the windows, the dog's on the door," Piper points out.
"And even if you could get out, that contract is watertight," Abacus says.
"If you're not here at roll call, Mrs. Scrubitt will call the police, they'll bring you right back and she'll charge you a thousand for the inconvenience," Piper tells Willy.
Almost sounds like they've tried escaping before. Tiddles barks from the top of the stairs, making Willy shout in surprise.
"Alright, everybody, back to work," Abacus instructs the other staff members. "Come along, Mr. Wonka. You come with me."
Abacus grabs the laundry basket and rolls it into another room, with Willy following.
"You'll be in here. On suds," Abacus tells him.
Abacus grabs a bundle of laundry and tosses it into a large barrel full of soapy water.
"First you pick up the apparel
And you stick it in the barrel.
Scrub Scrub!" he sings, and gives Willy a paddle so he can stir the clothes into the water.
Piper, Lottie, and Larry are working the mangles.
"Then you take it to the mangle
And you turn the giant handle.
Scrub Scrub!" they sing.
They hang the wet clothes on wooden racks.
"Then it's hung up really high
Until it's nearly dry.
Scrub Scrub!" they sing.
They pull on some ropes that pull the racks high indeed.
"But when we sing this song
The day don't seem so long.
Scrub Scrub!" they sing as they continue working.
"Still long, though," Larry complains.
After a few hours, the evening turns into night.
"Gotta press out all the creases
From the dresses and chemises.
Rub Rub!
Gotta fold 'em like they told us
Or they'll scold us and withhold our
Grub Grub!" they sing.
Bleacher blows a whistle, signaling that it's time for the workers to go to bed. Willy and the staff members trudge up to the Staff Quarters.
"We all signed the dotted line,
So we've gotta do our time.
Scrub Scrub!" Abacus, Piper, Lottie, and Larry sing.
Mrs. Scrubitt and Bleacher enter the Staff Quarters.
"And if you don't agree. . ." Mrs. Scrubitt says.
"See Clause Five. . ." Bleacher says.
"Section Seven A. . ." Mrs. Scrubitt continues.
"Paragraph twenty-two. . ." Bleacher adds.
"Part D. . ." Mrs. Scrubitt finishes.
"Which says. . ." Bleacher says.
"Scrub Scrub!" Abacus, Piper, Lottie, and Larry sing, and they and Willy walk to their rooms.
"Scrub Scrub!" Mrs. Scrubitt and Bleacher sing.
Willy, Abacus, Piper, Lottie, and Larry stop in front of their rooms.
"Scrub Scrub!" Mrs. Scrubitt and Bleacher sing.
"Scrub Scrub!" Abacus, Piper, Lottie, and Larry sing, and they march into their rooms as Mrs. Scrubitt and Bleacher slam the door and lock them in for the night.