Bucket- Suicide Greeting

Mr. Charles Bucket looked no different from many old men. He had long gray blonde hair and a thick mustache and beard. He was skinny and he wore a tall top hat. He was wearing glasses or a monocle, and his breath smelled like hamburgers or fish and chips.

He had a cane in his right hand. He slowly walked down the stairs and to the gate door where all the winners and their guardians were waiting for him. He was frowning. Every time he took a step it seemed as if it was painful for him.

When he made it close enough to the gate, he pulled a small gun out of his pocket, put the barrel of it into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. His body collapsed to the floor and blood spilled out on the carpet, which thankfully for the cleaners was already red.
...

Five seconds later Mr. Bucket did an octuple backflip out of the door he had come out before, launching himself forty feet into the air before landing on his body and excitedly throwing his arms in the air. He waited for everyone to stop crying and screaming before he spoke.

"Everyone," announced Mr. Bucket. "I was merely rusing you. It was only a robot. I am the real Charles Bucket! If I really wanted to bite the bullet, I would have chosen a much tastier one, I assure you."
...

Chili said nothing, but took a quick glance at the corpse as he made his way to the door. It did not look like a robot.

- Chapter 8: The Chocolate Factory