America 2009: Survival of the Underclass

The two men, carrying trash bags, exchanged a knowing smile as they heard another burst of gunfire-like sounds erupt from Macy's behind them.

Who would have thought that this farce, comparable to the War on Terror, was caused by nothing more than a few toiletries?

The Holy Lance Ranger, who is still in the process of handing over power, hasn't even started to lay out the multicultural movement yet, and he probably hasn't even thought of the crazy idea of ​​social atomization.

In this era where you can't just pick up your phone and take pictures, American police officers weren't the kind of gentle, smiling officers of later generations who talked about freedom, democracy, and equality for all.

Red-haired white people face discrimination! Mixed-race white people get batons! Other ethnicities get plenty of bullets!

But what does this have to do with those two amateur racers who are still benefiting from the times? Haha.

[Los Angeles Breaking News Live Broadcast]

"Two terrorists broke into Macy's downtown today and have been successfully killed with the cooperation of police and civilians. America remains great."

"Officer! What exactly happened?!"

"That's right—his hand was only 0.0001 millimeters from the trigger, and the muzzle was pointed directly at a pregnant Black woman."

"My hands reacted faster than my brain, and I opened fire on the spot."

"He fell, but the bullet still flew out—though it eventually hit the ceiling."

"His accomplice flew into a rage and immediately targeted a little girl. I was a fraction of a second too slow, but my partner was!"

"Faster than him!"

"God bless the great America, the bullet ended up hitting the refrigerator."

"The children of America are safe and sound once again."

"Clap clap clap!"

"That's amazing! Officer! You're a true hero!"

"That's amazing! That's amazing!"

"Serve the people! Protect the people!"

"LAPD! It's our duty!"

"Clap clap clap!"

"Boss, what was that commotion on the west side just now?" John, leaning against the warehouse door, asked curiously as the two men walked in carrying garbage bags.

"Lazybones, don't you know to catch your things first?" Li Ang tossed the trash bag he was clutching at him and scolded with a laugh.

"Fu...uh...OK! Now you can tell me, right?" He took it, his expression changed, and asked.

"The Middle Easterners planted a Tsar Bomba stolen from Russia at Macy's. The National Guard even brought an aircraft carrier to the mall entrance to suppress them. They're defusing the bomb now, just like Spider-Man," Karen said seriously, handing the plastic bag to Li Ang.

"Oh my god! These Middle Easterners are like demons sent by Satan! God bless America! Thank goodness for the National Guard! Thank goodness for the aircraft carrier! Thank goodness for Spider-Man! Otherwise, the entire greater Los Angeles area would have been razed to the ground!"

John looked terrified, patted his chest, and spoke urgently.

"Yes, God bless America!" He patted John on the shoulder and led Karen toward the cubicle.

"Oh, can you see it? Through the first rays of dawn, we cheer for something!" John quickly followed behind the two, singing the American national anthem with a devout expression.

"The formidable enemy is asleep—all around—"

"Shut the hell up, Patriot!" Karen turned to John at the cubicle door and cursed with a laugh.

John abruptly stopped singing, staring at her incredulously, his voice rising in urgency: "Why? Don't you love the greatest America? Are you...?"

"She's just reminding you that Spider-Man hasn't left yet. Don't you want to take a picture with him?" Li Ang immediately interrupted him, his expression serious.

"Yes, when we came back, the aircraft carrier had already headed towards the sea," Karen said hurriedly, her eyes darting around.

"Oh my god! Yeah! How could I forget to take a picture with Spider-Man! And I've never seen an aircraft carrier before! I hope I can make it!" He quickly put the trash bag on his desk and turned to leave.

"You're still at work! Lazybones!" Li Ang immediately rebuked him sternly, but couldn't suppress a smile at the corner of his mouth.

John abruptly turned his head and said nonchalantly, "I don't care about tomorrow's salary. If I can take a picture with Spider-Man, that's worth a fortune! At least a million dollars!"

"We're waiting for you to come back, millionaire!" Karen shouted with a smile as she watched him run away.

"Thanks for the news! I'll buy you Chevrolets when the time comes!" he shouted without turning his head.

"Shouldn't it be a Ferrari?! Bro!" he shouted at John, who had already run to the warehouse door.

"You're so stingy before you've even earned a million, hahaha." Karen turned her head, gently patted his chest a few times, and laughed until tears streamed down her face.

"Sir! Has Spider-Man left? Has the nuclear bomb been defused? What about the aircraft carrier?" John, panting, called out to a white man carrying shopping bags at the mall entrance, asking hopefully.

A knowing glint flashed in his eyes, but he immediately softened his expression with tenderness and pity, speaking softly and slowly, "Child, what a pity. Spider-Man was gone less than two minutes ago, and he took the nuclear bomb home with him, and the aircraft carrier sailed away too."

"Fuck!" John slapped his thigh angrily, cursing his leg viciously, "It's all your fault! My million dollars! Fuck! Mother fucker! Fu..."

He was terrified by John's furious expression and dared not continue to care for the intellectually disabled children. He picked up his shopping bags and hurried away, looking back every few steps.

"This pizza costs at least seventy dollars, with Arctic shrimp! What's wrong! Millionaire!" Karen changed the subject, holding a slice of pizza, and asked with a smile as she looked at John, who had walked in looking dejected.

"Is there any hope left for our Chevrolet?" Li Ang asked jokingly, swallowing the pizza in his mouth.

"They're gone...they're all gone..." John said weakly, forcing himself to stay awake.

"That's life, bro. You lost a million, but it wasn't all for nothing."

He smiled, paused, and looked at John, who was staring intently at him, before continuing,

"For example, I'll still pay you $20 tomorrow. And right now, you can enjoy this deluxe pizza piled high with ribeye steak chunks, Arctic shrimp, mozzarella cheese, and all sorts of fancy ingredients."

As soon as he finished speaking, John rushed to the desk, grabbed a slice of pizza from the box, and popped it into his mouth, a wide smile instantly spreading across his face: "Oh my god! It's delicious! No wonder it's high-end!"

This lightning-fast change of expression left the two people next to him completely stunned.

"Ahem, then you haven't tried Chicago's deep-dish pizza, the best pizza in the world!" Karen said earnestly, suppressing a laugh as she leaned back in her chair.

"Thin crust is the best!" John retorted immediately after swallowing the pizza.

"Someone's going to lose his paycheck tomorrow, guess who? Mr. John Smith." He stood up from his chair, speaking in a strange, affected tone.

"Just kidding, boss. Who would say Chicago Deep Pizza isn't the world's number one pizza?" John immediately admitted defeat, saying helplessly.

Two people sat upright in chairs by the desk, while another stood beside them, teasing John back and forth.

After showing off their pizza, the three of them also devoured the cereal bars, chocolates, and nuts in the plastic bag.

"Lazybones, assemble the clothes rack after you've finished eating, and hurry up and hang the blankets in the bucket to dry." He leaned against the door frame, pointed at the plastic bucket in the toilet, and scolded.

"Okay, boss!" John, rubbing his stomach, gave a crooked military salute and lazily walked towards the toilet.

Karen sat on the bed that John had already laid out with blankets, pointed to the underwear the two of them had changed out of the night before, and said seriously, "We need to figure out how to get a washing machine tomorrow. I don't want to end up like a medieval old witch, squatting by a stinky ditch and fighting with this pile of rags."

Just as Li Ang was about to pass the job to John, a bunch of absurd images flashed through his mind—could this thing really be handed over to this guy?

Who knows what he might do with the underwear? So he nodded emphatically.

"Excuse me, boss!" John said helplessly, clutching his blanket.

"Lazybones, did you even assemble the clothes rack? What are you doing holding a blanket like that!" Li Ang was so angry he laughed, and raised his hand as if to slap him.

"Idiot." Karen rolled her eyes.

"Uh... I'll go right now, boss!" John gave an awkward smile and quickly turned to put away the wet blanket.

"You coward, forget about your million dollars! Otherwise you won't even earn this 20 dollars!" He laughed and cursed as he watched John's back as he bent over the plastic bucket.

"Yes, boss!" John straightened up and called out helplessly.

"We also need to get a water heater; I can't take a cold shower in this weather." Karen twirled her blond hair with her fingers as she looked at him.

"Let's stay at the shelter for a few days first, we're on a tight budget right now." He walked over and sat on the bed, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Following you, this piece of trash, I can't even take a hot shower, and I have to sleep on this tattered blanket I dug out of the garbage dump." She patted the blanket next to her buttocks, shrugged, and mocked.

"These are clean goods that other vendors worked hard to steal from the donation box, and you think you can get away with it!"

He hooked his arm around her shoulder and pulled her down onto the bed, grabbing a corner of the blanket and holding it to her nose. "Don't believe me? Smell it for yourself! And look at the quality!"

"No matter how new it looks, it's still secondhand goods that someone else has slept with!" She pouted, rolled her eyes, and said sarcastically.

He slapped his forehead, exclaiming helplessly, "You didn't say anything when I sent that lazybones to shop, you didn't say anything at the mall, and now that we're back in bed, you're complaining! What the hell are you trying to do?!"

"I don't want to do anything, I just—" she paused, a triumphant smile playing on her lips, "I just want to disgust you!"

"Jesus!" He released his grip on her shoulders, raising both middle fingers sharply. "You win!"

"Click—"

John laid out the wet blanket, glanced at the two capitalists chatting on their side on the bed, and closed the door with a helpless expression.