Volume 4: White Devil Chapter 245 Jeff's Speech
Diamond Veterans Home, in the corridor outside the activity hall.
Martin helped Jeff put on the baseball cap, then brushed Jeff's cheeks with a soft brush. After making sure that the face looked fierce and hard, he looked at his work with satisfaction:
"It looks like the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs should ask you to be the official spokesperson for American veterans. That's tough."
Jeff in front of him had a sturdy body that almost tore the smaller camouflage T-shirt that Tommy had deliberately bought. He was full of aggression and a fierce aura that kept strangers away.
"Martin, are you sure...is this manuscript suitable for speaking to the elderly? There are more swear words in it than I have said in more than 30 years." Jeff moved his arms, which were tightly bound by his sleeves, and whispered to Martin.
Martin growled, "Shut up! Jeff, don't question me! What you have to do next is to read this speech with more swear words than any other in the black neighborhood to those dozens of World War II veterans. Don't let it down, because that was... that was written by me last night."
Boss Tommy worked so hard to write the speech, and finally he was willing to give the title of author to him. Martin didn't expect why Tommy made this decision, but he felt it was not a bad thing. After all, he was the campaign manager, and he always needed to come up with some impressive things to prove that he was not just stealing Trojan from Costco.
"I've read it many times, but I'm still moved every time. The emotions in the manuscript almost overflow, it's so touching. So, Martin, your father actually died on the battlefield, right? If you haven't experienced it yourself, you would never..." Jeff's face was full of admiration when he talked about the speech Martin prepared for him.
"I've explained it many times. My father didn't join the army and die on the battlefield. He died while driving..." Martin stared at Jeff unhappily and interrupted his flattery.
Jeff has been praising him since the first time he watched it, so Martin can no longer get pleasure. He now needs the shock of other listeners after listening to it to satisfy his vanity.
Jeff looked at Martin sincerely: "What happened when he was driving?"
"Do you have to be so curious?" Martin glared at Jeff with disdain: "Can't you give me some privacy?"
"We are friends. Zack, Alan and I can talk about anything. Alan even told Zack and I his most important secret. He once wanted to find out what oral sex felt like and which one felt better, so he went to the Florida Zoo and secretly put something on his golf club and let goats, giraffes, zebras, etc. lick it..."
"Stop! Stop!" Martin glared. "Brother, living with you three for three days is more eye-opening than my thirty years living in the nigger community! Shit... Going to the zoo to enjoy a free blowjob? How on earth did Florida train you three to be so smart!"
"If this secret is not enough to exchange for your father's experience, I can also tell you my most important secret. I..."
"I can't listen anymore. I don't want to listen. I'm a nigger who knows shame!" Martin stopped Jeff from continuing. He lowered his voice helplessly and said, "OK, I'll tell you, you have to keep it a secret."
"Of course." Jeff assured seriously.
Martin hesitated and lowered his voice. "One time, he was high while driving and masturbating. He was stopped by the police. The police officer on the other side was a female mounted police officer. My father was busy with one hand and lowered the window with the other hand. At the critical moment of the golf club, I saw the face of the female police officer looking over... So my father gave the other party something else in addition to his driver's license. Then he was suspected of molesting police officers in public, humiliating police officers, assaulting police officers, sexually harassing police officers, and a bunch of other crimes and went to prison for vacation."
"I...wow, I...I want to say, sometimes when I'm under a lot of pressure, I will deliberately stay in the car until late at night, and occasionally do that kind of thing, but it seems...it seems impossible to spray that far." Jeff stared and asked suspiciously.
"That's a racial talent. Otherwise, how do you think that bastard gave me a dozen half-siblings?" Martin said, "Keep reading the speech and stop talking to me about my father, okay?"
After a while, Tommy and the director of Diamond Veterans Home opened the door of the activity hall and walked out. The director was a middle-aged man in his forties. After Tommy introduced him, he shook hands with Jeff and smiled perfunctorily: "Since you donated some food to our home, you have about thirty minutes, Mr. Lavin."
Jeff looked at Tommy, and Tommy nodded at him: "Go ahead, just read the script to those veterans generously, no need to speak without a script."
"I will." Jeff nodded seriously, took a few deep breaths, and waited for Martin to check his makeup before he took the speech, turned around, pushed open the door of the event hall, and strode towards the podium.
"Before, there were politicians who came to places like this to seek support, but almost every one of them could give a speech without a script. Unfortunately, even if they were fluent and could speak without a script, they could hardly raise any money because the veterans here don't understand politics and don't care about politics. It's a useless effort." The person in charge said to Tommy with a smile.
He was not optimistic about politicians coming here to raise funds. It was not that no one had come here before, but the results were very poor. In his opinion, Jeff Lavin who came this time was even worse than those politicians. He even needed to read a script for his speech. He was simply waiting to stand on the stage and be ridiculed and humiliated by those veterans who had no idea what manners were.
Tommy leaned against the door frame, looking at Jeff who walked up to the podium and stood firmly, and said with a smile: "Of course the veterans don't understand politics, otherwise they would have rebelled and occupied the White House long ago, instead of waiting until Jeff showed up today."
The activity hall of the nursing home is usually a free activity place for veterans to chat, do some simple exercises, watch TV, listen to the radio and so on. But now, the seats under the rostrum are full. There are about forty or fifty veterans who have experienced World War II sitting in the audience. Most of them are gray-haired and old, and nearly half of them are disabled and need wheelchairs or other tools to assist. Several caregivers are standing against the wall at this time, observing the physical condition of the elderly and signaling the veterans to keep quiet.
But the veterans obviously didn't give the nurse face, nor were they prepared to respect Jeff who was standing on the stage at this time. They shouted and cursed loudly from the audience:
"Hey! He takes our money again and then wastes us an hour or two sitting here listening to some politician's bullshit? Hoping we'll vote for him or give him money to fuck some hooker?"
"Ah~ Go to hell! I would rather donate my money to Germany to support them in reviving Hitler than to these damn politicians!"
"If Hitler were still alive, he could at least let the Americans know what we have done for the world! Now everyone treats us like trash!"
"Go home, kid! Don't expect us to listen to your bullshit!"
Jeff stood on the stage, observing these angry veterans who were forced to sacrifice their usual free time to listen to his fundraising speech because of his presence.
Frankly speaking, he was a little nervous. Although Martin had rehearsed with him several times, when the time really came, looking at the audience with distrust, ridicule, and disdain, Jeff still felt a little uncomfortable. Fortunately, Martin said that if you feel nervous, take a deep breath. Jeff tried to recall Stallone's fearless performance in the movie, and kept taking deep breaths to let his nervousness fade away. Finally, amid the laughter, scolding and ridicule of the crowd, he spread out the speech that he had read many times and read the first sentence of it into the microphone:
"Private First Class Jeff Lavine, United States Army, Florida National Guard, greeting you all."
As these words were spoken, the veterans below actually slowly stopped humiliating. Although their expressions were still unfriendly, the hall at least became quiet.
In every previous election, many politicians would come to seek support from these veteran groups. Those politicians who came to canvass for votes often had military service experience, but every time those bastards introduced themselves, they mentioned various military officer positions. They thought that mentioning their positions in the army would make these old guys feel close to them. In fact, as long as the other party revealed the unit number and position, everyone would know that they had never been on the battlefield and were just gilding their military ranks in the rear.
Have you ever seen an officer who, after retiring, had to live in such a terrible nursing home and wait to die? These are all ordinary old soldiers.
He comes here to show off his military rank and official position, thinking that these old soldiers who have broken their legs for the country will stand up, salute him, and say "Hello, sir"?
So those people often get the opposite result.
But the young, big white man in front of him introduced himself as a private in the U.S. Army, which was exactly the same identity as most of the old men here had when they served. This sentence showed that this guy named Jeff Lavin was not the son of a high-ranking official who graduated from a military academy, but just an ordinary person.
This also made the veterans want to hear what this private had to say. They had ridiculed politicians with military ranks such as captain and colonel, but they had never encountered a guy who retired with the rank of private first class coming here to give a speech and raise funds.
"The army didn't teach me how to give a speech, so my campaign manager found me a lot of speeches that politicians used in fundraising for me to copy. Seeing that thick stack of speeches opened my eyes. Those women who had never fought in a war were really good at giving blowjobs. Now I understand why my father was so obsessed with the battlefield in Vietnam and participated in Operation Bushmaster. It must have been because he was given a blowjob by those politicians. Fuck you, politicians, you are just cowards who only know how to hide in the back."
These rude words made many veterans laugh out loud. It is normal for soldiers to scold politicians. Which soldier has not scolded those politicians who are afraid of death, chatter in the rear and dare not take a single step forward on the battlefield while serving?
Jeff stared at the speech and continued, "After reading those speeches, I didn't plagiarize. It's not because I think I'm more talented, but because I'm a private who graduated from high school. I don't understand that bullshit. What is social group differentiation? What is open diplomacy? My understanding of open diplomacy is that my three dogs at home had sex on the street in full view of everyone, and finally ejaculated outside! Calling open-air sex a philosophy, screw you politicians."
The veterans once again burst into vulgar laughter. With just a few words, the veterans present believed that the corporal was not in disguise. Since leaving the army, apart from veterans of the same status, few people would tell them such vulgar and pure jokes.
"I decided to write my own speech, so don't worry if it's too long. I'm definitely not going to say 'I'm going to keep this short so you can write your checks to support me' or some other bullshit that countless politicians use to open their speeches, but I don't know what's so fucking funny about it."
"And those guys don't talk much either. They talk nonstop for an hour or two every time. Fuck you, for an hour or two, why doesn't he go home and lick his wife? If he can lick his wife for two hours, I guarantee his wife will love him more. But if he talks bullshit for an hour or two, no one here will fall in love with him."
"To sum up a one or two-hour speech, it's nothing more than a long and short introduction, then talk about my dreams and great ambitions, and finally say God bless America."
"In fact, it can be summed up in one sentence. Give me your money and votes . I'm going to Washington! A politician wearing a high-end suit worth thousands of dollars and a diamond watch worth tens of thousands of dollars, tricking a bunch of poor people who can't even afford a bottle of whiskey to pay for his tickets to Washington. Fuck you, I would rather buy a ticket myself to your house and fuck your wife who is left alone because of your trip to Washington."
"Actually, this is a bit biased. I've received news that it's unlikely that you'll get what you want just by paying for the ticket, but if you're willing to donate $500,000 to those politicians, you can definitely fuck their wives. If you add $200,000, you can also fuck their wives' sisters at the same time. I saw some people getting excited. Calm down, sirs. If you really donate $500,000 to that politician for them, I guarantee that it will be the most terrifying experience of your life."
The whole audience laughed again, and there were even whistles and applause.
However, the head of the nursing home who was listening to Jeff's speech at the entrance of the corridor frowned at this moment. He looked at Tommy, who was negotiating with him to donate some food in exchange for Jeff's half-hour speech:
"Are you sure he's here to give a fund-raising speech? And not to hold a sleazy talk show tour? Those words are really nasty."
"A good speech is humorous and can make everyone laugh." Tommy said seriously, "Do you want these veterans to sit in the audience and listen to Jeff's two-hour speech on Meditations? Believe me, after ten minutes of that thing, at least half of the veterans will want to find a gun to blow Jeff's head off."
"So, you think a good speech is to tell vulgar jokes to the audience, and you can fuck the politicians' wives if you donate half a million dollars?" The person in charge said to Tommy unhappily, "I should have read the manuscript you prepared before agreeing to it."
Tommy took out a cigarette and lit it, then said, "This is not a joke. I have a friend named Stephen, who told me personally that he and his family's foundation donate about five million to the Democratic Party every year to support various Democratic congressmen. He calls this money "whoring money." He is not even thirty years old this year, and he has slept with the beautiful young wives or girlfriends of seventeen congressmen who wanted him to make additional donations. He once made an additional donation of two hundred thousand to a state congressman in California, and the congressman's wife and sister specially chatted with him all night about democracy and freedom to express their gratitude."
"You're kidding! This is impossible!" the person in charge said with certainty, but his face showed an eagerness to try.
While Tommy and the person in charge were discussing in depth the topic of whether donations could earn him the right to sleep with the wife of a congressional candidate, Jeff was raising his voice on the podium:
"I want to say, screw your long speeches, screw your great ambitions, screw your God bless America! This is all bullshit! I don't understand these self-righteous politicians, are they too high? What kind of people do they think they are talking to?"
"No one knows how to keep things short better than these people in front of me! Because their careers are always marked by one sentence: 'Yes Sir!'"
“No one understands great ambitions better than these people! Because their careers are the best interpretation of great ambitions!”
"Fuck you, do we need those politicians to tell us this? I would rather shoot myself in the head than listen to those ducks quacking in my ears!"
"When the country needed us soldiers, the newspapers called us the country's strongest cornerstone. After we brought peace, the newspapers called us the scrapped tools of the country, numb and indifferent, with only death and drunkards and drug addicts waiting to die... Fuck you!"
"It is these veterans who are called drunkards, drug addicts, and waiting to die. Decades ago, they prevented those who can humiliate them at will from being stuffed into the incinerator by Hitler. The veterans used their blood and lives to protect the peace of the world! It allows those displaced refugees from various countries to take shelter here. Because of the veterans, they were not fucking killed by Hitler, Stalin, or even Churchill. And then, the descendants of those survivors are now beginning to humiliate this country's great guardians as fucking drunkards, drug addicts, executioners, murderers, fucking social security risks, and fucking stumbling blocks on the road to peace!"
"Fuck you! Without these veterans, their bodies would have long since rotted into ashes, and they wouldn't even be qualified to be stumbling blocks for the homeless!"
All the veterans in the audience shouted out as they heard these words. In the hearts of these veterans covered in scars, they were the ones who changed the world and brought peace. However, the reality is that they are now humiliated, ridiculed, and even questioned by the police when they go out to buy a bottle of wine. It is as if they are not wounded soldiers fighting for the United States, but Soviet soldiers trapped in the United States, with no respect, no status, and nothing but scars all over their bodies.
"The cowards who survived the peace talked freely in front of you, boasting that they had seen the world and understood the international situation. Each of them seemed to know everything and change the world to make this country a better place. But in their mouths, we are idiots who know nothing except the cheapest beer brand and the cheapest drugs."
"Fuck you! Cowards! We have seen the world. We have traveled to Italy, withstood artillery fire and super storms, and forcibly landed in Sicily! We have traveled to France, to cover the Allied forces, and drove destroyers to Omaha Beach despite the risk of sinking! We have traveled to Asia, to defeat Japan, and flew planes to turn Tokyo into a sea of fire!"
"We have seen a lot more of the world than those idiots who are talking so much right now! We brought peace! And then what? What did we gain?"
"A tattered body full of scars! A pension that is shockingly low! A group of tools abandoned by society and the times!"
Jeff's eyes were red, he choked and continued, "I... tell you what I gained. I also gained the medical benefit with the highest surgical mortality rate! If you don't understand, I can explain it more clearly, that is... fuck you! I can't go on!"
"Even if you do surgery in a regular hospital, only one out of a hundred people might die unexpectedly on the operating table. But if you do surgery in a hospital affiliated with the Department of Veterans Affairs, four and a half out of a hundred veterans won't be able to walk off the operating table alive! Fuck!"
"Why is this happening? Because doctors with higher surgical skills and more advanced medical tools require more money, and those politicians in Washington are unwilling to allocate funds for our obsolete tools. They think that the fact that you old guys who can scare children to tears when walking on the street are still alive is a gift from them!"
"Fuck you!"
"We are indeed ugly, with our hands blown off, our legs amputated, and scars on our faces scarier than fucking Freddy's! Are we ugly? Of course! But our fucking souls are so pure!"
"And those politicians, each of them looks elegant, but in fact, the feces discharged by the dirtiest sewer rats in Miami are not as dirty as their souls!"
"Ugly-looking veterans, should they die? Fuck you! I want you to live!"
As Jeff finished speaking, everyone who was not paralyzed in a wheelchair stood up and shouted excitedly in response to Jeff's words!
It turns out that only the real grassroots soldiers understand the plight of these veterans! This guy named Jeff Lavin is one of them! That's it! He has served his country loyally, but now the US Congress refuses to allocate funds to improve their medical environment!
"I'm a fool. If I wasn't a fool, who the hell would be willing to join the army to defend this country? Of course I'm a fool, and so are you." Jeff slowly exhaled, looking at the excited veterans in the audience with a serious expression. After the veterans cheered, roared, and vented their emotions, he continued:
"Jeff, you are a fool. You can't run for election. The neighbors will say so, the newspapers will say so, my competitors will say so, they will laugh at me. Jeff, this fool knows nothing. His participation in the election is a joke. Go home. America doesn't need you to stand up now. You'd better go home and continue to fix those damn dirty pipes! You are a fool. Fools don't understand politics, the situation, the economy, change, or elections..."
"Fuck you! Fools really don't understand anything, but they know how to love this country!" Jeff suddenly yelled loudly until his voice broke!
The person in charge saw that the forty or fifty old men in the audience seemed to be in some kind of frenzy. He didn't bother to chat with Tommy, and quickly walked in to ask his caregivers to comfort some of the old guys who seemed too excited, to prevent them from dying on the spot due to excessive emotional fluctuations and their hearts being unable to bear the heavy burden.
This was a scene that had never happened in this nursing home before. How could a retired corporal have such a strong appeal? Making these veterans look like they could get up and return to the battlefield at any time?
When the person in charge didn't understand why the veterans were so excited, Jeff looked at Martin behind them. Martin kept making relaxing gestures to him, signaling him to slow down his tone. Jeff obediently lowered his voice and spoke calmly in the same way as in the previous drill: "This is what my father said. He is also a fool, a fool named Harley Laven, serving in the 2nd Battalion, 3rd Infantry Brigade, 1st Infantry Division of the United States Army. His nickname was Can Opener, because whenever he was there, his comrades would grin and laugh happily, like cans being opened one by one."
"He was one of the first soldiers in the Vietnam War. That was actually his second time to join the army. When he first joined the army at the age of 18, he was rejected in the test because his IQ was not high enough. The army said we don't need fools, so go home. Then he went home obediently to get married and have children. Until the Vietnam War broke out, the conscript came to his door again. He said to him, who had become an excellent carpenter, that the country needed a fool like you to join the army."
"My father didn't refuse. I was still a child at that time, but I will always remember my mother crying and asking him why he wanted to serve now when those bastards had humiliated him so viciously when he first joined the army, saying he was a fool and didn't deserve to join the army! Why?"
"My dad told her that maybe he really was a fool, and that he wasn't serving for those bastards who drafted him, he was serving for the country, and that the country needed fools to step up."
"Unfortunately, he didn't survive until the end of the war and died in Vietnam... I..." Jeff paused as he choked up again.
Among the veterans in the audience, a black veteran who was sitting in a wheelchair with a urine bag hanging next to him shouted, "Son, those who died in battle are heroes! Look at us, the living are just garbage! You should be happy! You should be happy! Your father is a hero, he doesn't have to see this damn situation now!"
"Thank you, thank you, let me... let me finish this speech... My father... missed many important moments in my life, the first time I read an adult magazine, the first time I masturbated, the first time I wrote a letter to a beloved girl, the first hair on my bird, the first time I fell in love, I got married, the birth of my first son, the birth of my first daughter..." Jeff paused for a while before continuing:
"He was also absent from the first important decision in my life. That year, I became an adult, and for the first time in my life, there was a fork in the road. There were two roads. One was to join the army and serve, and the other was to continue studying. I didn't know which road was the right one in life because I was a fool."
"In the end, I made the same choice as my father. I know he chose to join the army and died in battle, but I don't regret continuing along the path he chose, because like him, I deeply love this beautiful country."
"Now, he will continue to be absent from the second important decision in my life. My life path has once again forked. There are two paths. One is to participate in the election, go to Washington to get rid of those politicians, and fight for the rights that veterans deserve, such as better medical care, higher welfare benefits, and more positive attention."
"The other way is to withdraw from the election and go home, continue to be a silent fool, crawl into various dirty pipes and keep company with rats every day, turn a blind eye to the injustices suffered by those veterans, remain silent, and spend the rest of my life like a mute."
Jeff didn't need to say anything else. The veterans at the scene, led by several veterans, were already shouting in unison: "Run for election! Jeff! Let us live! Run for election! Jeff! Let us live! Run for election! Jeff! Let us live!"
Martin turned his head to look at Tommy, who was dozing off against the door frame with a cigarette in his mouth, and then looked at the photographer, who was so shocked that his jaw seemed to be dislocated. He asked the photographer in disbelief, "A collection of swear words can win the support of voters? If that's true, why didn't the candidates hire us niggers to write their speeches during the presidential election?"
"Language is really contagious. If I didn't know that Jeff is a fool who knows nothing, I would have paid money to support him." The photographer came to his senses and said to Martin.
After all the veterans were finally calmed down, Jeff looked at everyone and said:
"When I made the first choice, I imagined how great it would be if my father was still around. That way, he could give his son the right advice on the path of life. Unfortunately, he is not here, so I can only make the decision myself."
"But, this time, I don't want to make the decision myself."
"I would like to ask those of you who have fought for the country like my father did, to give me some advice on behalf of my father who died on the battlefield, so that I can feel what it feels like to have the love and care of a father who is absent in my life."
"I hope you can tell me which way I should go. I will gladly accept whatever answer you give me, because..."
“You are my fathers, you are patriots who love this country more than I do.”
"Finally, according to the speech management, I want to say one sentence at the end, God bless America...Fuck you! I don't want to say this, because I believe that if America is really always blessed, it must have nothing to do with God, but you! You true patriots are guarding this great country!"
After he finished speaking, Jeff threw away the stack of speech manuscripts, which scattered in the air. Jeff walked down the podium with red eyes and hugged the veterans.
The scene was really touching. Jeff's emotions were revealed several times during the speech. It was impossible for him to be faking it. Martin thought to himself, "Boss, I..."
"Go ahead and collect the manuscript. Hurry up. We have to give this speech five more times in five nursing homes today." Tommy opened his eyes lazily and said to Martin, "Jeff can get lost and think he really treats those old guys as his fathers, but as a campaign manager, you have to know what we are here for, to make money."
