America 1982

"The heart-stoppingly beautiful dusk, this kind of scenery belongs only to the United States, to Florida."

At sunset, under an umbrella in the empty and quiet central square of Little Havana, Tommy was speaking to the camera as he finished his first day of work:

"I think to sum up my work today, don't be lazy. After all, wealth will not fall from the sky if you sit around all day. You need to take action."

If the photographer hadn't witnessed Tommy sitting in the square most of the time looking at beautiful women, he might have believed his lies.

"Today's income..." Tommy hesitated and looked at Martin who was almost exhausted outside the camera. Martin walked up to Tommy, opened his pocket bag hanging on his body, rummaged inside, and said: "Including tips. , plus the five hundred yuan you blackmailed the laundry owner..."

Tommy took the pocket bag directly over with one hand and blocked the camera with the other. Then he glared and scolded Martin: "Shut up Martin, I'm choosing a fucking partner, not extortion. We will give it to any laundry that is willing to pay the deposit." Laundromat delivers orders.”

When Martin rolled out of the camera range, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and smiled at the camera seriously: "As long as you are hardworking and kind, you will be rewarded. This is the great America. This is what I gained on the first day of hard work. Uh... we make a lot of money by going to hotels to help tourists pick up clothes and send them to the laundromat..."

Tommy flipped through the pile of change inside: "About six hundred yuan. What did I say? This is America. As long as you work hard, you will gain. Don't complain about hard work. Even though you have to go back and forth between the hotel and the laundry It is indeed physical work, but when you see the income, no matter how tired you are, all your fatigue will disappear. There is no shortcut to making money, you must be down-to-earth..."

"I'm going to kill these damn pigeons! F*ck! They ruined my business!" The owner of an open-air cafe in the distance was holding a broom and frantically driving away the pigeons near his shop, cursing loudly. bad language.

Tommy turned his head and glanced at the other person, and continued to say to the camera: "Be kind. People like this who are full of swear words and get angry easily will not do well in business. For example, I will not patronize his cafe, just because of pigeons." If you accidentally poop in those coffee beans of his, he's going to kill the poor pigeon and I'll file a complaint for animal cruelty against him. Hey! Be tolerant, man! What's wrong with pigeons!"

The photographer could hardly stand listening anymore and moved the camera away to avoid the urge to smash this bastard to death with his camera for America.

The consequence of this guy asking his assistant named Martin to feed the pigeons laxatives was that everyone in the square saw an unforgettable scene.

Thousands of pigeons are like fucking painters, constantly spraying feces at everything in the square, and their postures are all kinds of weird, including bombing style while flying, spraying directly on the face in the assault style, and taking advantage of others' surprise. Poisoning style.

The photographer had gone to a Cuban open-air bar in the square to buy a cocktail called "Holy Mission." Before he could taste it, the cocktail turned into "Holy Shit Mission."

And what about Tommy Hawke, who planned all this? This guy extorted five hundred dollars from the laundry in the name of a deposit, and now he tells everyone seriously that as long as he works hard, he can make the same money as him?

You can earn 600 yuan a day just by running errands? What kind of errand work can earn you $600 a day? Intercontinental express? And he never ran any errands at all. The black man next to him, who was almost exhausted, did all the work.

He pretended to be in front of the camera, urging the audience to be kind to the world, and even did not forget to slander the coffee shop owner for abusing animals.

It only took ten minutes for the square to become empty, and all the vendors had no harvest. At this time, a large number of pigeons were lying exhausted on the ground in the feces, even their own cup of holy shit... The culprit of everything was This young bastard!

"Thanks to you, boss, I just heard a vendor say that it was the first time since Little Havana Plaza was built that it was so quiet at dusk. It was also the day when his income was the worst. We seem to have ruined everything that relies on tourists. It's a good street vendor business." Martin looked like he was about to die on the spot from exhaustion. He sat next to Tommy and said in a weak voice.

Tommy counted the money he earned and said, "I will not define myself as a saboteur so superficially. This is just business competition, this is a cruel business war."

"The cruel business war is like giving laxatives to pigeons. The laundry business is booming, but it has caused a devastating blow to the retail industry in the square?" Martin asked as he slumped in his seat without even bothering to raise his eyelids.

"Yes, tourists originally wanted to spend money on those small commodities, but now they have purchased our services. Do you understand? This is what I told you before, moving money from other people's pockets to your own pocket." As Tommy spoke, he divided a portion of the pile of change in his hand and handed it to Martin:

"This is what you deserve."

When Martin heard that he had to divide the money, he finally summoned up his remaining strength, sat up straight, took the change handed over by Tommy, carefully counted it three times, and then asked Tommy incredulously: "Twenty yuan? Twenty yuan ?Boss, we made more than 670 yuan, and then I got 20 yuan? Capitalists’ math scores don’t seem to be very good, huh?”

"I understand what you want to say, I paid you more, but you're welcome. You just worked for me for four hours. I paid you a high salary for your four hours of work. The hourly wage is as high as five dollars. It's really big now." The employer is only willing to pay three dollars an hour, but I am not the kind of stingy boss, I am more generous than those bastards." Tommy put away the remaining money and patted Martin on the shoulder:

"Don't thank me too much, I want you to understand that I love you, Martin, just like Otilia loves Brady."

Martin held the twenty pieces and his teeth were almost broken: "The white slave plantation owners in Florida must not have exploited my ancestors as hard as you. Boss, at least they are more honest and will not exploit their employees while saying they love me against their will." , and, who the hell is Brady?"

"It doesn't matter who Brady is. I want you to understand that if I didn't love you, the way I made money on the first day would be completely different. I could easily complete the process from a poor man with a net worth of fifty dollars to a rich man. But for you, I gave up." Tommy took out the cigarette and held it in his mouth, looking at the sunset in the distance, and said with some sadness.

"In what way?" Martin asked curiously after hearing that Tommy didn't look like he was joking.

The boss sacrificed a more profitable way for him, Martin? How much does his boss like money? He has just seen it. For himself?

"While you were buying medicine and grinding it into powder, as an enthusiastic citizen, you reported to the police that you were suspected of selling drugs and asked the police to arrest you. If you ran away and they shot you, I, as your friend and witness at the scene, reconciled with the Miami government. The amount of compensation and hush money allocated to you will be larger. If you have not resisted, the compensation amount will be smaller. I asked Mr. Page and he said that if a Florida police officer kills a black man with legal U.S. status, the government must compensate at least six months. Ten thousand yuan, if the law enforcement was wrong and we didn't kill you, we can also get a few thousand yuan in compensation." Tommy withdrew his gaze and looked at Martin:

"The only problem is that this way of achieving the American dream is a bit expensive for black people."

Martin looked at Page, who was not far away, and then at Tommy, who was next to him. After several times, he closed his eyes in despair and said, "What should I say? Thank you, boss. Thank you for your hard work while I help you." One day later, you didn’t let the police kill me again?”

"This is why I didn't choose another way to open the American dream, because of love, Martin." Tommy slowly stood up, stretched and prepared to leave:

"That's it. Today's work is too hard. I need to go to the hotel to take a shower and find a woman to massage my sore muscles. See you tomorrow. By the way, before you come to the square to see me tomorrow, remember to do the laundry first. We send the clothes to the hotel to the guests, and with luck, the generous guests will give us another tip.”

Martin's eyes widened: "Where will I sleep tonight?"

"The job I am offering today does not include food and accommodation." Tommy looked at Martin: "Normally, bosses don't care where their employees live, they only care whether they start work on time tomorrow."

"The problem is, you only gave me twenty yuan, and I can't find a hotel with this money." Martin shook the meager change in his hand and said to Tommy.

Tommy said confidently: "Didn't you say that you have a friend in Little Haiti who waives deposits and taxes and can provide you with a cheap hotel room for one night?"

"If I walked to Little Haiti, it would be already dark by the time I got to the hotel. And if I walked back to Little Haiti, I probably wouldn't survive until dawn. Maybe I would be killed by a fucking robber on the way." Martin hugged him frantically. He shook his head and said loudly in pain.

He has now regretted countless times in his heart why he asked his boss to accompany him to the recording of this bullshit show! I originally wanted to learn some business skills. After all, I often brag to others that I am the president of the BT TV network, so I always want to learn some superficial knowledge to make it sound more real when I brag.

But what he was experiencing now was more like he had signed up for a black man's experience of retracing his ancestor's slave path.

I was almost exhausted by my white boss and learned nothing, or what I learned could not be used as conversation material.

Could it be that when he was bragging with those niggas like the Big Jack brothers, he said that as the black boss of the BT TV network, his most powerful business strategy was to give powerful fucking laxatives to the pigeons in the square?

"Well, I'm a soft-hearted boss. I don't want my employees to be in danger. In this case, the cheapest room in the resort hotel I want to stay in costs sixty-five yuan a night, so..." Tommy hesitated. , walked up to Martin, and took back the pitiful twenty dollars in Martin’s hand:

"I paid for you, and you still owe me forty-five yuan. But I am a kind person and will not force people to pay back the money. But I hope you will be grateful. So, continue to work hard tomorrow and continue to give laxatives to the pigeons until Until the pigeons’ bellies and the street vendors’ wallets are all deflated.”

Martin dragged two suitcases and followed Tommy as they walked away into the sunset: "Do you want to continue filling? How long will it take? Until the anus of those poor pigeons can hold human clubs?"

"Until this square becomes a cesspit and no tourists are willing to visit it, we can consider changing industries." Tommy said calmly.

Looking at Tommy, Martin and the two walked towards the direction of the hotel. The film crew members looked at each other, and one member said to the team leader Nick: "This guy named Tommy is a lunatic."

"The lunatic is not scary. What's even more frightening is that he is still a money-grubbing lunatic." Nick rubbed his forehead and said, "He is going to let the black man inject laxatives into the pigeons tomorrow... We have to save those pigeons."

First update~