America 1982-Chapter 455 - 77: Preparing the Meeting Gift

Tommy ignored Martin’s murmur beside him and flipped through the newspaper, saying, "The Republicans have registered five people, and the Democrats, ten. The Republican with the best chance is the Florida senator, Eliana Leti, a Cuban-American, who changed her personal registration address to the eighteenth district a year ago. She clearly came prepared, as the Republican organization in Florida had learned of Claude Pepper’s worsening health a year ago and selected this Cuban woman to compete for the Cuban vote, which makes up 45% of the district’s demographic."

Jeff, holding the steering wheel, glanced at Tommy through the rearview mirror and said, "But when I went to register, I heard that there were thirteen Republican candidates and, including me, fifteen Democrats."

Without lifting his head, Tommy said, "Those labeled as other candidates don’t need to be taken into account because, in everyone’s eyes, the sum of the votes for all candidates labeled as others probably won’t compare to the amount of votes for the Democrat listed alone in the tenth place."

Scratching the stubble on his face, Jeff peeked at Tommy: "Why do you know who has more chance?"

"It’s simple, Mr. Jeff Raven," Tommy replied, flipping a page of the newspaper. "Just buy a copy of all the local newspapers since Claude Pepper fell into a coma half a month ago, and you’ll get the general picture."

Jeff paused for a moment, "But registration for candidacy wasn’t open at that time."

Perusing a photo in the newspaper, Tommy said nonchalantly, "Politics is not a running race; no one says politicians can’t jump the gun and take the early lead in occupying media like newspapers and TV, quickly becoming a familiar face to the public. You don’t necessarily have to wait for candidacy registration to open to do that."

"Looking at the Democrats now, two women will probably get into a fight. One is Rosario Kennedy, the wife of the former Miami Mayor David Kennedy and the current Miami Deputy Mayor, who is also Cuban-American. Likely having received advance notice, she changed her personal registration address to the eighteenth district, like the Republican’s Eliana Leti, using her Cuban identity to vie for the Cuban immigrant vote in the eighteenth district."

"The other is the dying Claude Pepper’s niece, Joan Pepper, the political heir cultivated by the Pepper family, currently the Chief Probation Officer of the Florida Parole Commission. She has been prominent in every election campaign for the past ten years as Claude Pepper’s campaign assistant and has considerable recognition in the district."

"I’ve met Joanna Pepper, a very kind old lady, somewhat like my mother. She even brought small gifts to our community during the holiday season," Tommy said. While he spoke of the first two names, Jeff looked puzzled, but at the mention of Joanna Pepper, he interjected, "But I don’t know the two women you mentioned before. I’ve never heard of them."

"Those two are the real political elites who parachuted into the eighteenth district," Tommy put down the newspaper and said to Jeff. Taking out a cigarette, Martin by his side quickly lit it for him, proving much sharper than Jeff. Martin tentatively asked, "Boss, you mean these people aren’t really locals, they’re here just for the vacant House of Representatives seat?"

"What else? Do you think two women who don’t even live here would genuinely struggle for Miami for life, only to change their addresses to this district? Believing they love Miami is even less credible than believing our boss, Mr. Jeff Raven’s ’flat Earth’ theory," Tommy said, taking a drag of his cigarette.

Disgusted, Martin muttered, "Damn these politicians. Yesterday they were Washingtonians, today they can nobly face the camera and declare their love for Miami, promising to give Florida a voice. If we ever go to war with Cuba to defend our home, I bet these foreign congress people would fight beside us to defend Miami... I’d rather believe in Jeff’s chance of winning the election, as dumb as he looks, because at least he genuinely loves this city."

"Whoa, there’s a Costco ahead. I need to buy some candy for the kids; they always need rewards to behave," Jeff said, spotting the Costco sign up ahead and smoothly pulling into the parking lot. Then he turned back to Tommy, "Can you give me back twenty bucks from the one hundred and seventy you took earlier, Tommy? When I get back home, I’ll have my wife pay you back, but right now, I need to prepare today’s little gifts for the kids."

Tommy nodded, took out his wallet, handed the money to Jeff, and flashed a friendly smile, "Of course, Mr. Raven."

Watching Jeff enter the supermarket with a joyous spring in his step, Tommy’s lips curled into a smirk, "Such a kind-hearted Floridian, we have to help him. He truly loves this district, spending his own money every day to give candy to kids to spread what he believes to be the truth. Is he foolish? Of course, but I just like him that way. I’m going to send such a naive fool to Washington, to stand in the Capitol, bring out solid spheres and wooden planks, and publicly prove that the Earth is fucking flat. If I pull this off, Jason and Susy won’t stand a chance at winning unless they find someone even stupider than Jeff to help him become President."

"Mr. Tommy Hawk, I remind you that if you use your own bank account money, that’s considered cheating," the cameraman turned in the passenger seat to look at Tommy, "I too am eager to see this guy in Washington. When reality unfolds, our show will document his journey of misadventures from Miami to Washington, and I think it will be the most extraordinary biography I’ve ever filmed."

"I won’t spend my own money to support his campaign. I’ll just make money off him. To help him, or rather us, raise campaign funds, now Martin, go buy a hundred Trojans, to be handed out as a first-time greeting gift to those lovely Florida kids," Tommy said to Martin, noticing the cameraman’s excited imagination of Jeff in Washington.

With a single sentence, the breathing in the car seemed to vanish, except for his own.

"What The Fuck!" Martin’s eyes widened as he looked at Tommy.

The cameraman was stunned on the spot, his face a picture of disbelief.

Giving Trojans to children as a welcome gift? Was this to make sure Jeff Raven wouldn’t get a single vote in the election and risk being sent away on various child-related charges if anything went slightly wrong?

Seeing the expressions on their faces, Tommy spread his hands, "Politics is dirty, and I must make sure that tomorrow, all the kids’ parents show up in front of Jeff, fuming."

"So they will ask Jeff why he is giving that stuff to their kids?" asked Martin, puzzled.

"Will they believe that an idiot like Jeff would harm kids? If Jeff wanted to hurt them, he would have done so long ago. He must appear to be a good man, but we must not be good men. Understand?" Tommy calmly looked back at Martin.

"Politics is about putting a clean puppet in front of the public. In reality, countless dirty hands are manipulating him from behind. You are Jeff’s campaign manager and also the dirtiest hand behind him. Trust me, Martin, just as Paisley trusts Odelia, I guarantee those kids’ parents will believe that Jeff, the poor and gullible honest man, was deliberately framed by potential rivals. This is another political lesson for you. To be a politician in America, you don’t need to rush to do substantive work, but you must know how to smear your competitors," Tommy explained.

Martin clasped his hands, his face indescribable, eventually he could only muster a single word: "Fuck!"

Then he opened the car door and headed toward the supermarket, muttering to himself, "In the world of business competition, I learned the technique of forcing pigeons to take laxatives, and now as a campaign manager, my first lesson in political warfare is to fucking hand out Trojans to the children in the district and frame the opposition?"

"Fuck You, America! You are beyond saving. Just go to hell!"