‘Mike!’ screamed Mrs Teavee, clasping her head in her hands.

‘Where are you?’

‘I’ll tell you where he is,’ said Mr Teavee, ‘he’s whizzing around
above our heads in a million tiny pieces!’
‘Don’t talk about it!’ wailed Mrs Teavee.
‘We must watch the television set,’ said Mr Wonka. ‘He may come
through any moment.’
Mr and Mrs Teavee and Grandpa Joe and little Charlie and Mr
Wonka all gathered round the television and stared tensely at the
screen. The screen was quite blank.
‘He’s taking a heck of a long time to come across,’ said Mr
Teavee, wiping his brow.
‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ said Mr Wonka, ‘I do hope that no part of him
gets left behind.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ asked Mr Teavee sharply.
‘I don’t wish to alarm you,’ said Mr Wonka, ‘but it does
sometimes happen that only about half the little pieces find their
way into the television set. It happened last week. I don’t know