Mushnik was dancing down the street. He hummed a tune to himself, occasionally hitting bricks in time with his song. Ba-tum-ba-kisshhh, doo doo doobee waahhh! How liberating! He hadn't had this much fun in years. It's true, yes, that he could've puked at the sight of Seymour simpering over Audrey (Mushnik would never admit to himself more than twice in his life that he liked seeing the boy happy). But he did like the way she looked at his shopkeep. He had always liked her, and she deserved a nice boy. And Seymour was as nice as any other boy he had around… which was only Seymour. Ba-dee-ba-doo…
Suddenly, Mushnik had tripped. Something had been caught under him. He flailed in the air before regaining his balance. After surveying the area (NOT wanting anyone to see, he was a grown man for God's sake) and finding no one around, he looked down at the nuisance. It was a bottle. With a piece of paper inside of it.
Why was he so drawn to it?
Mushnik grunted. He felt the need to remind himself of his status: old, strong, manly, not curious. He was not a schoolgirl picking flowers on her way home. He didn't wear Mary Janes or pleated skirts. He didn't even know what "pleated" meant. Mushnik walked away, vowing never to have urges to read messages in foreign bottles.
And he hurled himself back to the bottle, strangely intrigued. Perhaps it was a death note! Someone could be after his life! He knew he was important. He knew people wished they had his shop; he knew people envied him! This was not a matter of curiosity, he told himself- this was a matter of life and DEATH. He tried to carefully remove the message from its container, but his fingers were too- I mean, the bottle opening was too small for his fingers. He shrugged and smashed the bottle to the ground, which was messy, but freed his target. He unrolled it and read:
Hey u. Stop wit dis. Dont do my jawb. Last warneg. –C
Mushnik was confused. Couldn't people write anymore? Was the illiteracy rate in this country really down the tubes? Wait! A last warning! Who was this "C"? Who was sending him secret messages? Mushnik would never admit this, but he began to shake. A siren rang in the distance and somewhere to his right shouts of a fight could be heard. Mushnik hurried home.
AUGH this Chapter was short! But I found it and I want to continue this story! Just letting you know I'm hoping to continue updating.