America 1982-Chapter 493 - 93: Every One Is Absolutely Plump
Late at night, Jeff sprawled on the bedroom bed, flipping through the materials Martin had given him. After Jessica had put all the kids to bed and tenderly delivered her goodnight kisses, she returned to the bedroom to see the exaggerated tattoo on her man’s back. She pressed her hand to her forehead in pain, stood by the bed looking at Jeff for a long while, then hesitated before speaking:
"Jeff, we need to talk."
Jeff put down the materials, "Yes, we need to talk. Martin told me that my best result is fourth place within the party, and I still need more support from within. Zack, before he left, came up with an idea. He said we could organize a contest and set the prize money high enough to attract everyone to participate, but the only requirement for registration is that the contestants must be Democrats and must pledge to vote for me in the primaries. He’s staying with Allen tonight, ready to choose one out of several alternative contest options. You should give us some advice. Which do you think is more attractive: the Ugliest Chest Hair Contest, the Chickpea Can Eating Contest, the Wrist Wrestling Contest, or the Beach High Heel Sprint?"
"It’s not about your election that I want to talk about..." Jessica sighed.
"Ring, ring, ring~~" Before Jessica could finish, the bedside extension phone rang, and Jeff pressed the speakerphone button. Without waiting for a greeting, the excited voices of his two smart pals came through:
"Jeff, we’ve got it! Combine the Chickpea Can Eating and Wrist Wrestling contests into one. Allen and I just thought of it while lying down in his living room and stretching out our legs for wrist wrestling. Allen’s mom, Melissa, acted as the referee, but as soon as we started, Allen was taken out with my one-hit kill. Guess why he lost his best event? He’s the best at wrist wrestling among the three of us!"
"Let me tell him! Because Zack let out the stinkiest, loudest fart ever born in the state of Florida! Just as I was bracing to exert strength, I felt a wave of gas hit my face and then I passed out!" Allen then rushed to say on the phone, "Only later did I figure out why he could release such an exaggerated fart - because he’d eaten my mother’s fried chickpeas and drank two cans of chilled cola from the fridge!"
"Think about it, if we hold a Chickpea Wrist Wrestling Contest, it’s bound to be..." Jessica stepped forward and directly hung up the phone, then looked toward Jeff who was full of excitement and eager to try, "I said we need to talk, Jeff!"
Jeff looked at his wife, bewildered, "But... Zack and the others hadn’t finished, don’t you think this contest sounds really interesting? Do we still have cans of chickpeas in the fridge?"
As he spoke, he prepared to pick up the phone to call back, but Jessica yanked the phone cord out, "The contest sounds really interesting. I think you three would definitely take the top three places. Jeff, I support you in hosting this contest, but on one condition, you have to drop out of the race."
Jeff froze for a moment, asking incredulously, "What did you say?"
"I said I want you to drop out of the election. I don’t want to live this life anymore. I want to go back to how it used to be, with our four kids and you, two dogs, you fixing pipes during the day, doing volunteer work at school after being busy, and the family sitting in the living room watching popular shows in the evening." Jessica pursed her lips, staring seriously at Jeff.
Jeff, seeing the serious expression on his wife’s face, sat up in bed, "Our life now is no different from before, just a few more people. I get it, tomorrow I’ll go to the furniture store and order two larger sofas to ensure that everyone can sit comfortably on the couch, I..."
"It has nothing to do with the couch! Look at you, look at these tattoos all over your body, and this house that looks like a military base, and that bad dog that’s been wearing an American flag bandana, wreaking havoc on the female dogs in the neighborhood!" Exasperated, Jessica sat down next to Jeff, looked up at the photo in front of them in the bedroom of herself in camo gear practicing shooting in high school:
"And this ugly photo, this isn’t my life, this isn’t our life, Jeff!"
Jeff rubbed his face and sighed, "Jessica, I too feel that this recent lifestyle has been a bit... uncomfortable for me..."
Jessica’s eyes suddenly lit up, hopeful as she stared at her husband, but the next second, Jeff dropped his hands and said seriously to his wife, "But Tommy, Martin, Marcus and everyone on the campaign team, they’re all working hard to help me get elected. They’re all busy for me, and I can’t just hide and be lazy."
"And those old soldiers like my father - remember, I promised them I would go to Washington and fight for their rights. That’s my responsibility for running."
Jessica roared in anger, "No! That’s not your responsibility at all! That’s what Tommy and Martin made you think it was, not your original dream. Do you remember why you wanted to run in the first place? You, Zack, and Allen, wanted to convince everyone that the Earth is flat, remember? Your brain has been replaced by Tommy and Martin! Those old soldiers are not your father! You are you, Jeff Raven, just a logistics soldier in the National Guard band responsible for loading and unloading instruments! You’re just a plumber who’s good at fixing all kinds of pipes! You’re just a good neighbor in the eyes of those around you! What Tommy and Martin have brought us is not the life we wanted!"
