American Entertainment 1982

"The dusk is so beautiful that it is heart-throbbing. This kind of scenery only belongs to the United States and belongs to Florida."

At sunset, under a parasol 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, it is not to be lazy, after all, sitting all day long, wealth will not fall from the sky, you need to act."

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

"Today's income..." Tommy hesitated, and looked at Martin who was about to die of exhaustion outside the camera. Martin walked up to Tommy, opened the waist bag he was hanging on his body, flipped it inside, and said, "Count the tip , and counting the five hundred yuan you blackmailed the owner of the laundry shop..."

Tommy brought the fanny pack over with one hand, and covered the camera with the other hand, and then scolded Martin with wide eyes: "Shut up Martin, I'm choosing a fucking partner, not extortion, whichever laundromat is willing to pay a deposit, we will give it to the laundromat." The laundromat delivers the order."

When Martin rolled out of the camera range, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and smiled solemnly at the camera: "As long as you are hardworking and kind, you will gain something. This is the great America. This is what I gained from the first day of hard work. Uh...by going to the hotel to help tourists pick up clothes and send them to the laundromat, we earn..."

Tommy flipped through the pile of change inside: "It's about 600 yuan, what did I say, this is the United States, as long as you work hard, you will gain, don't complain about hard work, even though you go back and forth between the hotel and the laundry It is indeed physical work, but seeing the income, no matter how much fatigue is gone, there is no shortcut to making money, you must keep your feet on the ground..."

"I'm going to kill these damned pigeons! F*ck! They're ruining my business!" The owner of an open-air cafe in the distance, at this moment, frantically drove the pigeons near his shop with a broom, cursing loudly bad language.

Tommy turned his head and glanced at the other party, and continued to say to the camera: "Be kind, a person like this who is full of foul words and gets angry at every turn will not do very well in business. For example, I will not patronize his coffee shop just because of pigeons. Accidentally pulled in one of his coffee beans and he's going to kill poor pigeon and I'll report him for animal cruelty. Hey! Learn tolerance, man! There's nothing wrong with pigeons!"

The photographer could hardly listen anymore, and moved the camera away, lest he always have the urge to smash this bastard to death with a camera for America.

The consequence of this guy asking the assistant named Martin to feed the pigeons laxatives was that everyone in the entire square saw a scene that they would never forget.

Thousands of pigeons are like a fucking painter, spraying feces on everything in the square non-stop, and their postures are all kinds of strange. Poison type.

The photographer went to a Cuban open-air bar in the square to buy a cocktail called "Holy Mission", and before tasting it, the cocktail turned into "Holy Shit".

And what about Tommy Hawke who planned all this, this guy extorted 500 yuan from the laundry in the name of a deposit, and now he is telling everyone that as long as he works hard, he can make as much money as he does?

Earn six hundred dollars a day running errands? What kind of errands make six hundred dollars a day? Intercontinental Express? And he never ran errands at all, all the work was done by the black man next to him who was almost exhausted.

He pretended to be in front of the camera, exhorting the audience to treat the world kindly, and he didn't even forget to slander the coffee shop owner for cruelty to animals.

It only took ten minutes to turn the square into an empty square, and all the vendors had no harvest. At this time, a large number of pigeons were lying on the ground in the dung, and even their own cup of holy shit... The culprit of everything is The young bastard!

"Thanks to you, boss, I just heard from a peddler that Little Havana Square had such a quiet dusk for the first time since it was built, and it was also the worst day for his income. The peddling business that was born." Martin sat next to Tommy with the virtue of dying on the spot, and said in a weak voice.

Tommy counted the money he earned, and said in his mouth: "I won't define myself as a saboteur so superficially, this is just a business competition, this is a cruel business war."

"The cruel business war is to feed the pigeons with laxatives. The laundry business is booming, but it has caused a devastating blow to the retail business of the square?" Martin asked as he slumped on the seat without even bothering to lift his eyelids.

"That's right, tourists originally wanted to spend money on those small commodities, but now they buy our services, understand? This is the reason I told you before, to move money from other people's pockets to their own pockets." Tommy was talking, and handed Martin a copy of the pile of change notes in his hand:

"This is what you deserve."

When Martin heard that the money was going to be divided, he finally managed to muster up his remaining strength, sat up straight, took the change from Tommy, counted it carefully three times, and then asked Tommy inconceivably, "Twenty dollars? Twenty dollars ? Boss, we made more than 670 yuan, and then I got 20 yuan? Capitalists don’t seem to be very good at math, huh?”

"I understand what you mean to say, I paid you more, but you're welcome, you worked for me for four hours just now, and I paid you well for four hours of work, up to five dollars an hour, and 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 collected the rest of the 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 squeezed twenty yuan, his teeth were about to be gritted: "The white slave manor owners in Florida oppressed my ancestors, they must not be as hard as you, boss, at least they are more honest, they will not squeeze the employees, and at the same time say they love me against their will. , and, who the fuck is Brady?"

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

"In what way?" Hearing that Tommy's expression didn't look like a joke, Martin asked curiously.

The boss sacrificed a more profitable way for Martin? How much does my boss like money, he has seen it just now, for himself?

"When you buy medicine and grind it into powder, as an enthusiastic citizen, report to the police that you are suspected of drug trafficking, and let the police arrest you. If you escape, they will shoot you. As your friend and witness at the scene, when I reconcile with the Miami government, You get more compensation and hush money. If you don’t resist, the claim amount will be less. I asked Mr. Page, and he said that the Florida police killed a black man with a legal American identity, and the government should compensate at least six Ten thousand yuan, if the law enforcement is wrong and you are not killed, we can get thousands of yuan in compensation." Tommy looked away and looked at Martin:

"The only problem, this way of achieving the American Dream is that it's a bit expensive for black people."

Martin looked at Page not far away, and then at Tommy beside him. After several times, he closed his eyes in despair and said, "What should I say, thank you, boss, thank you for helping me work hard. A day later, didn’t the police shoot me again?”

"That's why I didn't choose another way to open the American dream, because of love, Martin." Tommy stood up slowly, stretched his waist 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 then find a woman to massage my sore muscles, see you tomorrow, by the way, remember to wash the laundry before you come to the square to see me tomorrow The clothes are sent to the hotel to the guests, with luck, the generous guests will pay us another tip.”

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

"The job I offered today does not include board and lodging." Tommy looked at Martin: "Normally speaking, the boss generally doesn't care where the employee lives, but only cares about whether he will start work on time tomorrow."

"The problem is, you only give me twenty dollars, and I can't find a hotel for that amount." Martin said to Tommy, shaking the poor change in his hand.

Tommy said confidently: "Didn't you say that in Little Haiti you have friends who are exempt from deposits and taxes, and can provide you with cheap hotel rooms for one night?"

"If I walk to Little Haiti, it will be dawn when I arrive at the hotel, and if I walk back to Little Haiti on foot, I may not survive dawn at all, and maybe I will be killed by a fucking robber on the way." Martin hugged frantically. Shaking his head, he said loudly in pain.

He has regretted countless times in his heart now, why did he ask the boss to accompany him to the recording of this shit show! I originally wanted to learn some business skills. After all, I often boast that I am the president of the BT TV network. I always have to learn some fur to make my bragging sound more real.

But everything he experienced now was more like he had signed up for a black ghost to retrace his ancestors' slave road.

I was almost exhausted by the white boss, and I didn't learn anything, or what I learned couldn't be used as a talking point at all.

Could it be that when he was bragging with the Big Jack brothers and those niggers, he said that he, the big black boss of BT TV network, had the most powerful means of commercial warfare by feeding the pigeons in the square with fucking strong laxatives?

"Well, I'm a soft-hearted boss. I don't want my employees to be in danger. In this way, the cheapest room in the resort hotel I want to live in costs 65 yuan a night, so..." Tommy hesitated , walked in front of Martin, and took back the pitiful twenty yuan in Martin's hand:

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

Martin dragged two suitcases, followed Tommy, and walked away in the sunset: "Will we continue to irrigate? When will we irrigate? Until the chrysanthemums of those poor pigeons can hold human clubs?"

"Until this square becomes a cesspit, and no tourists are willing to patronize it at all, we can consider changing industries." Tommy said lightly.

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

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

first update~