America 1982-Chapter 467 - 83: A Tour de Force Performance

Martin walked out of the police station with a self-deprecating and fearless expression, as instructed by Page in the script he had been given. His steps were easy as he emerged, only to be immediately surrounded by a dozen or so men and women who looked like reporters. He gave them a baffled look, "What’s going on, everyone?"

"Martin, Mr. Martin Hart?" a reporter called out loudly with a microphone, "What do you think about the defamation incident involving Jeff Raven, one of the candidates, on the second day of the special election in our district?"

As Martin continued walking forward surrounded by these people, he indifferently said, "It’s none of my business, folks. If I was guilty of defamation, the police wouldn’t let me go, OK? Does that mean that it wasn’t Jeff who was defamed... I mean, maybe, it could be the truth, right?"

"Then what do you think about him running around for you, making up for the losses at Costco, asking them to write a letter of forgiveness for you and personally delivering it to the police station in exchange for your release?" Martin saw Nick, the production crew leader, disguised as a reporter, squeezing up close to him and speaking loudly.

Was this a precaution because he was worried the other reporters wouldn’t ask this question, so they had to arrange for someone reliable to step in? Martin thought irritably as he nearly got sprayed in the face due to the close proximity.

Though annoyed, Martin’s performance was convincingly real. At the sound of the question, he stopped in his tracks and stared at Nick incredulously, "What did you just say?"

"I said, Jeff... we all saw Jeff going to Costco to compensate for the loss on your behalf, and he requested the manager to issue a letter stating they would no longer pursue this petty theft. Finally, he came here and submitted both his own letter of forgiveness regarding your defamation of him and the supermarket’s letter concerning your theft to the police, that’s why you were released," Nick explained, microphone in hand.

Martin slowly turned around to face the surrounding reporters with a bewildered look, "That’s impossible, he shouldn’t have come... I mean, he shouldn’t have."

This turn captured Martin’s shift from shock to helplessness perfectly for the cameras around him.

"Sir, if it shouldn’t be him, then who should it be? Who were you hoping for..." Another reporter quickly picked up on Martin’s slip and pressed him loudly for an answer.

"I only meant, I never expected he would come," Martin, having recovered from his shock, quickly corrected his lapse in composure and then asked, "If it was Jeff Raven who got me out, where is he now?"

Not far away, Jeff, still in his blue-gray work attire, walked out of a hamburger shop with a large takeout bag, a goofy grin on his face as he raised the bag holding two burgers, "Martin, I got the tastiest local burgers, the Beaver Butt Cotton Candy Sauce Cabbie Burger with extra large puffs! Are you hungry?"

Martin looked down and closed his eyes silently for two seconds in the crowd, then looked up at the approaching Jeff, "They said, it was you...you got me out of the police station, and also provided a letter of forgiveness."

Jeff came up to Martin, took a burger out of the bag, and handed it to him with an expectant look, "Try it, I’ve never gotten tired of it in twenty years." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Martin took the burger box from Jeff, still feeling the warmth of the food through the box, and looked at Jeff, "I... thank you, Jeff Raven."

"Try it before it gets cold; you won’t be able to enjoy the freshly fried beaver butt in your mouth..." Jeff also took out a burger and started to unwrap it, urging Martin on as he was interrupted by Martin’s distracted smile, "Thank you for that description, so now I know that in the Upper East Side of Miami they eat fried beaver butts... WTF... what is this?"

Martin opened the burger packaging and questioned the yellowish-white gooey blob on top.

"That’s the extra-large cotton candy sauce. This shop is known for shaping the cotton candy sauce to look extra-large, which is why this signature burger is called the Beaver Butt Cotton Candy Sauce Cabbie Burger," Jeff said with satisfaction, taking a big bite and speaking with a full mouth, "I could eat this for another twenty years and still not be tired of it. Let’s go, come back with me to my place."

Speaking, Jeff took a bite of his burger and walked on, while Martin stood still, looking at the burger that seemed to have the shape of a piece of crap, then back at Jeff, and called out loudly, "Hey!"

"What?" Jeff turned around with a perplexed face, not understanding why Martin wasn’t moving:

"Aren’t we walking together? Jessica already told me that she’s making Chinese cuisine tonight and has asked me to bring you back to try her cooking. Trust me, it’s going to be the tastiest Chinese food you’ll have in your lifetime, even better than anything you’d get in China. There will be stir-fried offal sandwiches and pickled pork offal baozi, plus a clam and chicken dumpling soup."

Martin looked around in disbelief and finally stretched his arms out towards Jeff, "Do you really know what happened today? I still have things to do, I mean, I’m sorry, I appreciate it, and... thank Jessica for me, but I can’t join you to taste her cooking anymore. I’ve got work to do, Jeff."

"Of course, you have work, you’re my campaign manager, but... I mean, that doesn’t interfere with having dinner, right? Do you need to work overtime?" Jeff looked at Martin with a strange expression: "Let’s grab dinner first. You’ll need the energy to work better afterward."

Martin stood frozen in place, looking at Jeff, "What did you say?"

"Do you need to work overtime?" Jeff scratched his head in confusion, repeating his question to Martin.

Martin pressed, "The sentence before that."

"You’re my campaign manager, right? Didn’t we agree to go to Washington together and show off the wooden balls and wooden boards to reveal the truth?" Jeff gave a hearty and honest smile, speaking seriously.

Martin was momentarily speechless; he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly but made no sound. He just stood there, holding the burger in his hand, caught in deliberation. Finally, under the watchful eyes of the reporters and cameras, he turned his head, gazed deeply to the west, then spun around to show Jeff a radiant smile and a mouthful of white teeth:

"You’re not blaming me for slandering you? And you still want me to stay on as your campaign manager?"

"A little mad, so remember you owe me fourteen bucks," Jeff pondered for a moment and then smiled at Martin: "I not only reimbursed the seven dollars to Costco, but I also bought a hundred large TTs and gave them out to the neighbors."

In the sunlight, Martin caught up with Jeff quickly and walked side by side with him toward their destination.

Tommy sat in the front passenger seat of a car parked at the roadside, watching Jeff and Martin walk away. He asked Page, who was in the driver’s seat, "Jeff’s acting is a bit off, I had to scold him for a long time before he could barely pass muster. Look, Martin’s got natural talent, his portrayal of a black man with a strong sense of loyalty and personal integrity is incredibly seamless, the emotional transition is smooth as flowing water."

"Yeah, before the liberation of the slaves, black people were not just good at acting, they were impeccable. Freedom ruined black people," Page replied while holding the steering wheel, speaking in a nonchalant tone with a smile. However, he quickly subdued his grin:

"Miss Sophia O’Connor called, said that Susan’s talent agency has two actresses who got their hands on some pretty direct evidence, and they can make trouble for Fox anytime. Then Wolfe Tuck called; the investigative reporter he assigned managed to get some information on KeyBank. To use Mr. Manz’s words, it’s as dark as a black woman’s private parts. Lastly, Mr. Binn said that if you don’t call him back soon, he’ll come to Miami personally to deal with you."

"Remember to have Jim give the investigative reporters a hard time; such dark material can’t be so easily obtained. Don’t believe Jim’s nonsense; obviously, he’s mocking Wolfe for getting a rookie journalist." Tommy picked up a newspaper from the car and unfolded it, then signaled to Page to drive, "Besides, we’ve got time. I’ll play some games to change my mood. I didn’t expect that coming to Miami for a vacation would also let me dabble in political games. Take me to the Miami Veterans Affairs Management Center. Let’s see how we can get Jeff in touch with those old guys."