Johnny Realizes He's Hungry

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Johnny stood in the sunlight after the grand opening of the New Moon Theater, blinking in the glare. It wasn't a super hot day, but every day's at least warm when you wear long sleeves and a dark leather jacket all the time.
       "You alright, Johnny?" came the voice of a man in his 30s. It was Buster Moon, owner and proprietor of the newly opened theater.
       "Uh- yes, Mr. Moon, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" inquired the gorilla, a full Australian accent threading through his every word. He wasn't quite fine, per se, as he was practically melting in the sun. The koala quickly realized this, as his own body was drenched in sweat from wearing his suit jacket during the entire ceremony, and he ushered Johnny inside, much to the dismay of the ever-polite teenager.
       Even inside the air conditioned building, Johnny didn't look particularly happy. Not because he was still sweaty, but Mr. Moon had no time to ask about the real reason. "I'm sorry, I gotta go. Much work to do, planning our next show. We gotta put on something if we're gonna keep this beauty running!" He had said, skipping off up a staircase.
       Johnny didn't bother stopping him, but instead began exploring the new and improved, or really entirely reincarnated Moon Theater. Even though he had just rehearsed his music for the latest show, a singing competition, for a few weeks, Johnny felt that the new building was a bit of a glorified shadow of the old one. Then again, he thought, I've always preferred older models.
       As he walked into the auditorium, Johnny caught sight of a few familiar faces. Meena the elephant, and Gunter the pig, both former contestants in the competiton.
       "Oh, hey, Johnny," Meena chimed, then suddenly more worried, "Are you okay?" Johnny wondered whether people would stop asking about that.
       "Uh, yeah, but I've been better. The sun really beats down on you when you're in heavy clothes like mine." He held out his arms a little, showing all his clothes more fit for autumn weather.
       "I get the feeling," Meena giggled, tugging at the pocket of her baby blue jacket, if elephant fingers(toes?) can even do that.
       "Me too!" Gunter interjected suddenly in his zany German accent. "Am worn down by my golden tracksuit. I sweat like a pig!" Johnny and Meena both gave disapproving straight faces at Gunter's pig joke, and Johnny ran a hand along the back of his neck.
       "I had better get going," he half-groaned. As he said goodbye to his fellow former contestants, Johnny felt a sticky goop he had gradually started to feel over the three weeks since the singing contest sink down lower into his ribs. Nobody's waiting for me at home... He thought to himself.
       After leaning his trusty skateboard against the wall, Johnny looked around the garage he and his father had lived in. It, of course, was pretty empty of people except for a downtrodden nineteen-year old gorilla. Johnny shook his head, trilling a consonant along his lips, as if shaking the murkiness out with the bumpy note. He then settled down on his dad's recliner with a bowl of Frosted Yellow CornProbablies and a copy of this week's newspaper he had picked up on his way home.
***
       Johnny sucked up the last of the milk in his third bowl of cereal, sank into his dad's chair, and sighed. "The only family I have is in prison and I don't have any idea how to make food." Johnny was a little surprised at the rhetoric. He would soon grow accustomed to talking to himself. In suddenly jumping out of the recliner, Johnny yet again jettisoned worry from his mind. Alright, what to do about actual dinner and not cereal all day..
***
Johnny finally completed some food. I mean it was instant noodles and I don'tthinkthatcountsasafood but *ahem* Johnny ate up, and as you'd expect from instant noodles, it didn't really help. He scratched his head, then remembered he hadn't visited his dad yet today. "Maybe Dad can do something.."

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