Disclaimer: I do NOT own Chowder. Chowder belongs to Cartoon Network and all that rut.
Please enjoy the story.
It was midnight in Marzipan city. The sky was clear, showing off it's thousands upon thousands of stars, to which Chowder could stare at until morning. The night air was cool, almost chilling. As he layed atop the roof of a nearby apartment, it seemed like the only time Chowder's head would allow itself to get even a single thought through to it's brain without becoming suddenly distracted by something completely random. He breathed in the fresh air of the outdoors, only to feel the stinging sadness clog his throat. Eyes full of tears, Chowder began to backtrack the awful and confusing memory that he had witnessed.
"Mung, what are you doing?" Chowder had walked into his Master's bedroom, confused at what the old man was doing. Without saying a word, Mung Daal had popped a pill in his mouth, then taking a gulp of water by his bed.
"What is that?" Chowder asked. Again, Mung popped in another pill, then swallowed the water. The process took place over and over again, as if Chowder wasn't even in the room. Still confused, Chowder took a step closer. Suddenly, Mung daal turned around, glaring at the small, overweight purple child.
"Chowder," Mung said wearily, "get out! You can't be in here right now."
A worried expression came across Chowder's face. "There's an order waiting for you down in the kitchen... shouldn't we be working on it?"
Mung Daal turned around, holding his forehead as if he had come across a headache. He sat down on his bed, facing the wall. "No, no," he said. "not today. We'll get it tomorrow. The customer can wait a day..."
Chowder sighed. "O-ok." He reluctantly agreed, leaving the room. Although disappointed, he knew the answer already anyway. Mung had said the same thing yesterday, and the day before that. In fact, he's been skipping out on a lot of orders lately. He couldn't understand why. Then, out of curiosity, Chowder turned back to the door. As quietly as he could, he cracked it open slightly, enough for him to see Mung again.
He was no longer swallowing strange pills. In fact, he was doing something even more confusing. He had taken a small handful of what looked like tiny white rocks, wrapped them in a peice of paper, the lit the paper with a lighter, like a cigarette. Then, he put it in his mouth, enjoying the numbing feeling of his braincells slowly dying.
Chowder couldn't grasp what his master was doing. So, wanting information, he raced downstairs into the kitchen, finding Shnitzel miserably sweeping the crumb-sprinkled floor. Chowder approached him. "Shnitzel, Mung is doing something weird in his room." He said. Shnitzel stopped sweeping.
"Radda radda radda radda?"
"He was putting a bunch of pill thingies in his mouth, and then I think he lit some rocks on fire in his mouth."
"Radda?!" Shnitzel dropped his broom. In shock, he quickly sprinted from the kitchen, Chowder following after him. When they made it to Mung's room, he was passed out on the floor. Chowder stared, completely confused, at his teacher's unconcious body. Shnitzel bent over on his knees, pressing two fingers below Mung's jaw. He turned to Chowder.
"Radda! Radda radda radda!" He said in a very serious tone. Chowder ran back downstairs to Truffle's desk, grabbing her phone and dialling 911. Truffles, lazily balancing her head on her hand, instantly woke up from her nap of boredom.
"Hey, what are you doing?!" She asked, agitated from being woken up.
Chowder, ignoring Truffle's question, held the phone to his ear. A woman answered the phone. "Hello, what is your emergency?"
"M-my master, Mung, is sick! I think..." Chowder stuttered. "He's sleeping on his bedroom floor... I think it's because he took a lot of medicine."
"We will send an ambulance to your location as soon as possible. Just please, don't hang-"
Chowder slammed the phone back on the receiver, running back upstairs. Truffles followed him. She screamed at the sight of her husband, nearly dead on the floor. Shintzel tried waking him up, but it was no use. He was completely out of it. Truffles bent over her husband, tears streaming down her face, scared for Mung's life. Chowder simply watched, terrified and confused. What was wrong with Mung?
Finally, the paramedics came. Chowder, Truffles and Shnitzel were asked to wait outside, watching as two dog-like people raced inside the restaurant while carrying a long, blue stretcher. After another few suspense-filled moments, the same two men came back out, carrying Mung on the stretcher. Tubes were placed in his nose, while another tube connected from a bag of water into his left arm. It was a moment Chowder would never forget. Then, the two men and Mung disappeared into the ambulance.
The next morning, Truffles recieved a call from the hospital. Mung Daal had died.
The news had crushed everyone. When the funeral was held, even Shnitzel could not hold back every tear. Truffles was with her family, bawling her eyes out. Chowder stood by Shnitzel, tears rolling down his face as well. He remembered that one moment when the two doctors came out of the building with Mung on that stretcher - he knew it had happened at that very moment. He could feel it. Mung may have been his master and teacher, but he was also more than that to Chowder. Chowder had no mother or father, and Mung was the closest thing to a parent he had. And now he was gone.
When they returned the the restaurant, Shnitzel had tried to explain to Chowder what had happened. He tried to tell him it was because Mung had an overdose on crack cocain, but young Chowder couldn't understand why he had done it. He couldn't grasp what an addiction meant, though he was basically addicted to food himself.
He couldn't understand it.
And it tore him up inside.
A single tear pushed its way through Chowder, sliding down his cheek. It was one ago today when it happened, and life itself had seemed like it ended a long time ago. Shnitzel had quite his job, seeing how the entire business couldn't go on without the chef. He moved out of Marzipan city a month or two after Mung had died. No one has heard from him since.
As for Truffles, she closed down the business herself. But, considering she had nowhere to go, she decided to stay and live in the old restaurant. But she couldn't bear to sleep her and Mung's old room, so she moved into an old guestroom. The door to Mung's old room hadn't been opened since. Though she was mourning, Chowder could still see her going around town, getting groceries of just taking a walk. It made Chowder happy whenever she smiled, although she did less often.
Finally, after Mung Daal's Catering Service closed down, Chowder had to move out because Truffles couldn't afford to raise him herself. So he moved in with Gazpacho and his mother, despite her constant yelling and nagging at her son. He soon learned to block it out, although he secretly feels miserable about losing his home.
Chowder stared sadly at the numerous stars, wishing his master would come home. He couldn't help but remember life before that tragic day, how everyday was a delight. How Mung was happy and healthy, and always teaching Chowder something new. He closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep, dreaming of those times.
Life was nothing without Mung.
But it went on, and soon, the people went on with it.
Chowder would learn to become a master chef.
And alive or not, Mung would be there to guide him.