Volume 4: White Devil Chapter 243 Lesson 2
After dinner, Tommy, Martin and Paige took Jeff to Zack's house to teach him some simple precautions so as not to disturb Jeff's family's normal rest.
Jeff sat on the sofa in the living room, enjoying the old movie that Tommy had found especially for him. Martin stood behind the sofa, helping Jeff shave off his messy brown hair and replacing it with a buzz cut that was most familiar to American soldiers.
After finishing his hair, Martin sat next to Jeff again and watched Stallone with him. From time to time, he reminded Jeff to imitate Stallone's movements and speaking tone in the movie, because that would increase his masculinity.
After an unknown amount of time, Martin was awakened by the snoring sound coming from beside him. He wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth and yawned, then he saw Jeff, who was supposed to continue observing and learning, sleeping soundly in the seat next to him, and he didn't know when that strong arm had hugged him!
"Holy shit! The reason this bastard isn't manly is probably because he's a gay!" Martin pushed the other's arm away, stood up quickly, and then cursed in dissatisfaction.
Seeing that Jeff showed no signs of waking up and instead continued to adjust his posture and fell into a deep sleep, Martin stood up and walked to the refrigerator, took out a can of cold beer, walked back to the sofa, shook the can vigorously a few times, then pulled the ring and sprayed the cold beer on Jeff's face:
"Cool! It turns out that the white people felt so good when they tortured us black people! Get up and keep staring at Stallone on TV with all your eyes! Imitate his tone! His movements! Look at your virtue, Jeff, the hair on Stallone's dick looks harder than yours! My old... Tommy has ordered that before dawn, if I can't make you look like a tough guy carved out of a piece of American granite, I will be taught a lesson by a fucking electric shock device harder than granite! I promise, I will kill you before I teach you a lesson!"
Jeff was sobered up by the cold beer. He waved his hands frantically and jumped up from the sofa to wipe the beer off his face. Seeing Martin staring at him fiercely, Jeff showed an aggrieved expression: "Martin... I can't learn from that guy in the movie. I'm just an ordinary..."
"Shhhhhhhhh!" Martin shook the beer and continued to spray it on Jeff's face. His whole face was full of ferocity and despair: "Show me a ferocious expression! Now, or I'll show you what terror is."
Jeff wiped off the beer, still with that innocent expression: "I..."
"Mr. Page! Fuck! Show him the consequences of disobeying!" Martin roared angrily in the living room.
Paige slowly emerged from the restaurant with a beer in his hand. With his other hand, he took out the largest electric shock device from his waist, turned on the switch, and the arc crackled. He walked towards the two and said indifferently: "As you wish, Martin."
Jeff looked at the crackling electric shock device and swallowed in fear. Martin showed a cruel grin: "You're dead, Jeff, in...Ahhhhhh~"
Martin fell to the ground convulsing, his limbs still shaking as he lay on the ground. The beer in his hand fell and scattered all over the floor. It looked like Martin had been electrocuted to the point of urinary incontinence, with white foam coming out of the corners of his mouth.
Paige held up the electric shock device and passed the end with flashing blue and white arcs to Jeff's pale face: "This is the result of disobedience. Either you go and continue to learn how to become Stallone, or I will send you to see God so that you can discuss the shape of the earth with him face to face."
Jeff quickly sat back on the sofa, like a good primary school student, with his hands on his knees, staring at the picture on TV with shining eyes, repeating Stallone's lines in the movie over and over again, and trying hard to imitate the other's tough guy face.
The homeowner Zack, who was just woken up and wearing kangaroo-shaped pajamas, walked down from the second-floor bedroom sleepily, trying to figure out why the living room was so noisy. Then he stood at the stairs and witnessed the brutal scene.
He stood on the stairs in amazement for two full minutes before quickly climbing back upstairs using his hands and feet.
"Thank God, I didn't meet Martin and his friends when I registered to run for election last year. It's better to leave this great work of promoting the flat earth theory to Jeff!"
Martin lay on the ground for a long time before he got up with a loud groan. He looked at Paige who seemed to be indifferent and roared madly, "Shit! Can't you give him a hand?"
"White people don't fight white people, just like what they say on TV: Girl Helps Girl." Paige put away the stun gun and said to Martin, "Besides, he's going to run for Congress. I'm afraid he'll cause trouble for me after he's elected."
"So, you're not afraid that I'll cause trouble for you?" Martin asked angrily.
Paige took a sip of beer, ignored Martin's anger, sat next to Jeff and showed the electric shock device: "So, should I be afraid that you will cause trouble for me?"
"If it weren't for your unique vision in discovering me and making me the president of BT, I would have let Martin's gang of thugs send you to see God, Paige." Martin cursed in a low voice with resentment, trying to find a reason to convince himself. It was not because he couldn't beat the old policeman, but because he still had some gratitude towards him.
After Paige took over, Martin went to the restaurant to find some cold pizza to fill his stomach, and then he was surprised to find that his boss Tommy was still awake. Instead, there was a pile of newspapers half a person's height on the table beside him. He was leaning over the pile of newspapers and writing something. The quarrel between them in the living room just now did not even disturb him.
"Boss, let's continue to feed the pigeons. I promise that I will be responsible for everything from drugging to collecting the dirty clothes stained with bird droppings. You just need to continue sitting in the square and chatting up beautiful Cuban girls! I'm tired of politics. At least I don't need that old bastard Page to shock my waist with the largest electric shock device when I feed the pigeons ! I'm not married yet, and I don't want my wife to question my ability in bed when we go to bed after marriage, and ask me in confusion why I always smell like grilled beef tenderloin." Martin pulled away another dining chair not far from Tommy, biting a pizza and said dissatisfiedly:
"This is not as much as what we earn from feeding pigeons and taking laxatives. Jeff doesn't have the fundraising ability of those politicians. The newspaper said that the Republican woman named Letty received 200,000 donations to her political action committee on the first day of registering to run for election. We only received more than 400 yuan, which is not even enough to make up the minimum 1,000 yuan required by the political action committee. Those veterans are poor people abandoned by the United States. How could they donate to a fool like Jeff? You even planned to let me accompany him to Little Haiti and Liberty City to fool the black people who are even poorer than the veterans. It doesn't sound like there is any chance of winning."
Tommy finished writing the last sentence, then threw away the pen, stretched his wrist and looked up at Martin: "This is why there are countless billionaires in the United States but only one American president. The road to politics has always been more difficult than the road to business, but the advantage is that once you gain power, wealth will follow closely behind."
"Did Stanford University teach you how a fool like Jeff can acquire wealth before gaining power and compete with politicians who are already rich and have a political base?" Martin asked Tommy.
Tommy nodded and looked at Martin with a smile: "Of course, deception, lies and behind-the-scenes deals, I can teach you a second lesson."
"I still like feeding pigeons." Martin said weakly, lying on the dining table.
He now really felt that it would be more profitable to feed pigeons in Little Havana in South Miami than to help Jeff with his campaign, and it wouldn't be so tiring.
"Do you really think I'm helping Jeff just for the money?" Tommy sighed and looked at Martin and asked.
