Author: Isaac
Company: X

The Music Shop
The music shop wasn’t a very busy place, but it had a decent amount of customers. It was at least enough to keep the store in business and have something to eat at every meal. Trumpets and guitars hung around on the back shelf, and smaller purchases, like valve oil and sheet music, stayed to the side.
	It hadn’t always been a shop, but more of a walk-in where you could take what you pleased. The entire village had changed over the past three years. Way back, everyone supported each other. If you needed food, you simply walked to the bakery and got some food. Needed an antidote from a nasty snake bite? Simply go to the bazaar in the village and grab one. 
	Then the revolution occurred. The village, Tazmily, was under new management. We were introduced to the concept of “money”. There was no more sharing or giving; it was all about DP.
	I sighed as I slumped unto the counter. The flickers from the pink box across the room forced me to shut my eyes. Those flickers weren’t natural. They irritated me day and night, but everyone who hadn’t taken one had their home destroyed by lightning. 
	Sometimes I felt the “Happy Box” was communicating to me. I couldn’t here anything, but the lights seemed to beam it to my mind. Forget neighbors. Money is all you need. Family can wait. Porky is the master. Porky? Who on earth is that? I took a square of wood and taped it over the screen. Porky, whoever he may be, can be praised by everyone at the village. I’ll pass.
	WHHHHiiirrrrr. A humming sound gradually grew into hearing range. With the whir, a blowing, like a fan, blew around the sheet music in my store. Suddenly, a metal object landed in front of the store, and the whirring ceased. The metal objects was like a bowl, but upside-down. A large nose resembling a pig snout was mounted on the front. The object opened, and several people in pig outfits swarmed out. One in particular had a very-mangled man in a wheelchair. He had a bushy mustache, white long hair, and a brown outfit, complete with a cap. The man caught my eye as mysterious and horrifying, but I felt sorry for him. His left eye had been blown out; his legs were no longer attached to his body. He tried to speak, but he could only make wind.
	“The idiots,” the pig-costumed men mumbled among each other. “Waste money on robot interpretation research when you could just get him new vocal cords.” They stormed my shop. My pride, my life’s work was dumped upon the floor. Sheet music was trampled and ripped, then drenched in the spilled valve oil. My shelves were busted, and my instruments were mangled. When the dust cleared, most of the men were back outside. A white, caped pig-man held in his hand my personal instruments: my two, curved horns. A glance to the left showed me a furious youth. He wore a metal mask and a leather coat. He had some sort of cannon on his arm, and had a golden sword at his side. He glared in anger at my Happy Box, with the wood nailed onto it.
	The youth turned towards the door. He was as a gentle wind: silent but with a strong presence.
	He threw a spherical object into my store. He calmly marched into the metal object. WWWWHHHiiirrr, the object winced, and they were gone.
	As I ran outside to watch the departure, the spherical object started to beep. Then, an explosion occurred. It was too much to bear, watching the building that I had put my life’s work into disintegrated.