Max Leaftree stumbled down the alleyway that lead to 6th street. Even though the road was black as the night sky, he squinted by the brightness of the dark. The two other men on the street were hagglers, but they didn't even bother with him. Max was too hungover to acknowledge them at all. Max clutched the letter in his so hard that the wax seal crumbled in his hand. The letter wrinkled, but he didn't care.
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The letter had arrived the day prior. The postman had burst open his door, his face red and huffing. He didn't stop running, because moments after the door was blown open and slammed shut, the postman sprinted up the stairs.
"Oof," the postman grunted as he ran into the hulking mass that was Max Leaftree. He looked down on the postman with a smile only a beast could love.
"What do you need," he said gruffly. The postman opened his mouth, but Max stopped him by making a "T" symbol with his enormous hands.
"Make it quick."
"Yes, sir. Lady Leaftree says it's urgent. Good luck, sir."
At this, Max Leaftree shoved the postman out of the way, and stormed down the stairs. His grip on the railing cracked the dark African Mahogany. Splinters flew into his skin, but he ignored them. Max opened the door, and quickly closed and locked it behind him.
After stomping all the way outside, Max was moderately calm now. He strolled down to the bar. When he opened the door, the owner, Tony Mazzerani greeted him with a barrage of compliments.
"Hello, sir. Amazing to see your wonderful face today. How are you today...good of course. Do you have a wrong side of the bed? What would you like today. Everything is free for you — did I mention your face looks great today?"
"I'll have an alcohol." He slunk into a bar stool, and looked around the empty bar.
"So, how has your day been?" Tony asked, pouring him his most alcoholic drink.
"Not good, Tony. I don't know what to do." Just then, a thud sounded outside the bar. Max looked outside to see the postman falling out of his bedroom window. He chuckled.
Max poured the rest of his drink onto the floor, and walked out of the bar, without so much as a goodbye. He walked down Eustace Ave., but realized that he was a tad buzzed. Max leaned against a wall after only a few more steps and came to the conclusion that he was a bit more than buzzed. He passed out on the corner of Eustace and 6th. He fell onto the jagged cobblestone, which, of course, broke under his weight.
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