Willy Wonka: great chocolatier, lousy host.

Sure, his factory is thrilling. But his guests had such a rotten time.

If Violet Beauregarde had checked out Morelli’s Bespoke Ice Cream Service at Harrods (020 7893 8959), she could have averted her blueberry-flavoured fate. Give Morelli’s 24 hours notice, and they’ll create an ice cream flavour of your choice (previous requests include pear and gorgonzola and baked beans on toast).

Mrs. Salt should have shoved a load of Extra Strong Acid Drops from The Sugar Boy into her daughter’s motor mouth. So eye-squintingly sour are these, they’d have silenced the precocious little brat from the start and left the mad hijacking squirrels to go about their business.

If Mike Teevee had joined the Sweetie Monsters Club at Burnt Sugar, he’d have received a box of tuck every three months, without having to budge from the sofa. And had he seen San Francisco Fudge, Augustus Gloop could have binged on chocolate without the fear of drowning.

Even Charlie Bucket didn’t need to risk his life in a glass elevator. At Bag of Sweets he’d have found all the one-penny sweets and chocolate bars he ever wanted, for very little pocket money.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing.

As all oompa loompas will tell you: they wish they’d known there was an alternative to a lifetime of indentured servitude to a vain, publicity-seeking control-freak.