Jon Ozaninski was the best at what he enjoyed. Being self employeed and working different hours whenever he felt like it made his job easy. Jon was nineteen years old almost to the day when he wandered down an alley in Chinatown for a drag on some grass.
Being the big man among all him slippery friends, he needed daily to prove his ability at robbing the weak and stealing from the complacent. Today was no different except he thought Chinatown would be easy, "Ahh those Chinks are dumb about our ways of doin' things in this country!" he had bragged to his buddies.
Little did he realize that the Chinese have delt with thieves a long time as a nation. The wayful ways of youths are a poor match to the grown and experianced shop owners in this part of town. It was a fool day when Jon wandered near his mark for that day's work. Had he the ability to look back on that day he might have put in an application at McDonalds.
Mr. Oingyl Wong was sweeping the light layer of dust from the shop floor that morning as a leather jacketed teenager stepped into the shop. Mr. Wong was in his past a manager at the Chinatrust Commercial Bank in NanKan, Taiwan. His association with them came to a quick end when he tried to market falsed papers to get his hands on $30,000,000. Now with the government on his trail and the F.B.I. he had to sweep floors for the owner of the shop.
As Jon walked in the old thief could see a young one and expected Jon's qute plays.
Jon walked about the shop looking at hundreds of green glass jars filled to their brims with liquids or salves. He gazed upward to view clear glass jars with plants, creatures, or body parts floating in a yellow colored liquid. Other than all the jars he saw nothing to steal worth stealing.
"Can this one help the young man find something he wishes for most, strength, health, a fantasy, or even more wealth than he could ever use in his lifetime?" asked Mr. Wong.
Jon had not finished even the six grade when his mother shoved him to school. Just able to read and not good at totals in money or anything needing a totaling he had only one goal since he was ignorant, money.
"I'm strong already and in good health but I could use a way to get all the money I'd ever need, old man! What in this mason jar convention would give me all that much money?" Jon asked as he grabbed the man by his shirt collar.
Struggling in the grasp of Jon's fat fingers the man shaking pointed to the far corner of the shop. Jon gave an evil grin as he looked toward what would bring him millions of dollars.