America: A Prodigy of Stereotypes

“Maybe.” Harry smiled.

They had promised each other not to tell the adults about Peter's participation in the fighting tournament. If the adults found out, not only would Peter be in trouble, but they would all be in trouble too.

Peter will turn 18 next summer, and it’s not uncommon for minors to get into trouble in the year before they turn 18.

Peter was surrounded by the audience, who asked him for autographs and photos. After finishing his hot dog, Walter White also approached Peter, who was surrounded by the audience, wanting Peter to sign an autograph for him as well.

The event organizers maintained order at the scene and took the opportunity to sell autographed pens and autograph books, and help take photos with the participants. The organizers successfully made five dollars out of Walter White's wallet.

"Hi, this is my first time watching your match. Good luck in the championship final on Sunday!" Walter White squeezed in front of "Red Spider" and greeted him with a smile.

"Oh, thank you."

Although Stephanie had told Peter that Walter White would be watching his match, Peter still got nervous when Walter White appeared in front of him, afraid that Mr. Walter would see through his mask.

"A photo and autograph? Where should I sign?" Peter asked in a low voice.

"Is that your voice? Could you sign this on my shirt for me?"

Walter White pointed to his back, then turned around and asked Peter to sign his name. Peter took the pen from Mr. White and signed "Red Spider" on his shirt.

Peter had secretly practiced signing "Red Spider" in his room, and he did a pretty good job.

“Say cheese!!” the photographer shouted at “Red Spider” and Walter White, holding up his Polaroid camera.

"Cheese!!"

"All right!"

The instant camera popped up a photo, and the photographer handed the group photo to Walter White.

Walter White then had Peter sign the group photo and squeezed out of the crowd, satisfied.

"Have you all taken a group photo?" Walter White asked Li Qun and the others.

“Dad, didn’t you check our food truck when you got home? There was a picture of Red Spider on it; he’s our spokesperson,” Stephanie said.

"I need to take a good look at that photo when I get home."

“No wonder you guys keep coming to watch his games,” Walter White said.

“Now you should go home, right? I’ll drive you home.” Mr. White glanced at his watch; it was getting late.

"It's time to go home. Thank you for your help, Mr. Walter."

“My family is waiting for me here, so I won’t bother you,” Harry said to Walter White with a smile.

"it is good."

Harry went up and gave Walter White a hug, waved goodbye to Stephanie and the others, and then turned and walked toward the street corner.

Every time they met, Harry would hug him. Walter White then turned to look at Stephanie and the others.

"Will Harry say goodbye to you like that?" Walter White asked.

“That’s how Harry treats his respected elders,” Li Qun said, stepping forward to give Walter White a hug. After Li Qun hugged him, Stephanie also stepped forward to give Walter White a hug, Gwen also hugged him, and Rhett came too. The other members of the club followed suit and gave Walter White a warm hug.

After being hugged by ten people, Walter White felt his cheeks getting warm, and Stephanie was surprised to find that her father was blushing.

"Please don't mind, the students of our Central City High School are the most respectful to their teachers." Li Qun tried to make amends for their hug.

“You are all good children…” Walter White suddenly felt a lump in his throat.

In Albuquerque, Walter White was only revered as "Heisenberg," and the only person respected as a chemistry teacher was his former student, Jesse Pinkman.

I suddenly thought of Pinkman. I wonder where he is now?

When he decided to quit, he also advised Jesse Pinkman to quit, and Pinkman seemed to listen to him, leaving Albuquerque and starting a new life elsewhere.

……

……

The doorbell rang in front of John Wick's house. John Wick opened the door, and standing outside was a boiled egg—his direct superior, Director Black.

"I'm here to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving in advance," said Director Blake, carrying a gift and wearing a genuine smile.

"Do you have some work-related questions to ask again?" John Wick welcomed Director Blake into his home, where a Labrador puppy curiously observed the unfamiliar Director Blake from a corner of the living room.

"Hi, hello, Helen."

"Hello, Blake."

Helen sat on the sofa, pulling the little Labrador into her arms. She looked much better.

When Helen and John first went to a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital for examination and to develop a treatment plan, Director Black accompanied them throughout the process.

"I have to leave after a short while; I need to visit an elderly employee who is resting at home," Director Black said.

“Blake, you’re really busy,” John Wick chuckled.

“John, would you like to come with me to meet this old man? He’s a legendary figure too,” Director Blake asked.

"Never mind."

John Wick glanced at Helen, letting her know that his current job as a "special issues consultant hired by the federal government" was the limit of his abilities.

“You will meet,” Chief Black said.

Chapter 195 Nervous Subtle Movements

Peter has always been an honest boy.

Li Qun came up with a new way for him to deal with Uncle Ben and Aunt May asking him questions when he came home late, but Peter refused to use it.

Li Qun's new method was to have Peter, who came home late, climb out the window and go back to his bedroom, creating the illusion for Uncle Ben and Aunt May that he had already come home and was just quietly staying in his room. Then, when he came downstairs, he would exclaim that no one had called him for dinner and that he had fallen asleep in his room, thus creating a problem and shifting the blame to Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

When Peter returned home, the sun had already set, and the sky gradually darkened in color from the distant horizon, with no stars visible when he looked up.

"Peter, have you been coming home very late lately?"

Peter was standing in front of the door, about to take out his keys, when Philip Watson from next door stood on the porch with a can of beer in his hand, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Uncle Philip, did your submission get accepted?" Peter had learned to ask other people questions.

"To be precise, someone took a liking to me."

Do you know what I wrote?

Peter shook his head at Philip Watson.

"It's a movie script."

"That's great, congratulations!"

Peter Parker decided to share this good news with Mary Jane Watson as well.

"Do you know what story I wrote?" Philip Watson leaned against a porch pillar, looking a little drunk.

"Uncle Philip, you don't need to tell me."

"I wrote a story about going back to being seventeen."

“Oh.” Peter nodded blankly at Philip Watson.

Peter found the house key on the keychain, opened the door, and intended to stop and chat with the drunk Philip, but then he suddenly remembered something.

Thanksgiving is approaching. Will Mary Jane's father spend Thanksgiving alone?

Thanksgiving is the second most important holiday after Christmas. Mary Jane has already sent Thanksgiving postcards and gifts, so it's clear she won't be coming back to celebrate with her father.

"What's wrong? Is there something on my face?" Philip asked Peter.

"No."

"Uncle Philip, how are you planning to spend Thanksgiving?"

Peter regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth; he felt he shouldn't have asked it.

"Do you want to spend Thanksgiving with me? I have no idea what 17-year-old high school students are like these days. Are they the same as when I was in high school?" Philip Watson smiled at Peter.

"What's wrong, Peter?" Uncle Ben asked Peter as he came to the door.

“I was talking to Uncle Philip about Thanksgiving,” Peter replied, turning around.

"Hi, Philip." Uncle Ben greeted Philip Watson briefly. He hadn't seen his neighbor for a while and hadn't run into him once since returning home.

“Hey Ben! Have you heard? That urban legend has resurfaced! This time it’s about someone being pushed into the subway tracks and executed.” Philip Watson shouted to Ben Parker.

"Don't talk about this in front of Peter." Ben looked at Philip with a serious expression. Philip felt as if a cool breeze had blown through him, and his drunken mind cleared up a bit.

"Oh, right, I shouldn't have brought this up."

"What execution?" Peter kept this question in mind.

“Philip, come spend Thanksgiving with us!” Uncle Ben called out to Philip.

"it is good."

“I know you were all worried about me, but I’ve pulled through now,” Philip told Ben.

"Are you still submitting articles to publishers? Perhaps you could work for the Daily Bugle; a job at a newspaper is much more stable than submitting articles like messages in a bottle after a shipwreck," Ben said.

Should I become an editor?

“Philip, you can be an editor. I believe in your abilities,” Ben said.

Peter looked at Uncle Ben and thought that the current editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle was Mr. James, a good friend of Uncle Ben, so it wouldn't be difficult for Uncle Ben to introduce someone to work at the Daily Bugle.

“I’ll think about it,” Philip said.

“A producer has taken a liking to my script, and the movie is in the works. Maybe next Christmas, Peter, you’ll be able to see this story I wrote in the theater,” Philip said to Peter.

Philip turned and went back into the house. As the door closed, Peter and Uncle Ben also went back inside.

"Thank goodness, he's just drinking now," Uncle Ben muttered to himself.

“What’s worse?” Peter asked.

“That’s not your question,” Uncle Ben said.

"I'm not a child anymore."

“It’s in the newspaper,” Uncle Ben said to Peter.

Peter went upstairs to put down his backpack. When he came down, Aunt May was sitting at the dining table as usual, looking at something. She glanced up at Peter and asked, "Have you eaten anything?"