America 1982-Chapter 501 - 95: The Happy Life of the Rich_3

Tommy hadn’t expected Stephen’s show-stopping beauty to be so daring at the last minute, winning by just a bra. Grumpily, he spoke, "Your angel had to act like my trashy girls, flaunting herself, to win this round. So strictly speaking, it wasn’t you who won, but my slutty vixens. If we play it that way..."

He emphasized the words, not even turning his head as he called to the girls behind him, "Ladies! Show everyone what happens if we play it that way, who would truly come out on top!"

As Tommy’s girls confidently unhooked their bras and tossed them into the crowd, the tourists in the audience erupted into deafening cheers. Martin, completely dumbfounded, could only mutter, "Rich people’s lives are just fucking blissful."

Eventually, the Dance Battle of the Poor and Mr. Wealthy concluded as Stephen lifted a makeshift trophy crafted from coconut shells and palm leaves.

The sun was tilting westward, and the girls who had won prizes for their dance moves and charm left a memorable kiss on Tommy and Stephen, the competition’s sponsors. They scattered with laughter, leaving the beach, while the tourists who had watched the entire beach party also reluctantly departed. Only Tommy and Stephen remained, two guys who but moments ago looked ready to lead gangs into battle. Now they sat together, facing the sea, sipping beer under the slanting sun.

Martin approached and told Tommy about how Jessica tried to persuade Jeff to drop out the night before and the emergency measures he had taken in response, which included a group of veterans morally cornering Jeff and Gina questioning Jessica. So far, it seemed to be working, as Jeff had reiterated his promise to the veterans, ensuring he’d do his best to get elected and go to Washington.

"If you were a black guy like Earl Rash, I’d say, ’Martin, you did a hell of a job.’" Tommy sat up from his lounge, grabbing a cigar from the box beside him and tossing it to Martin, speaking indolently, "But you’re not, so you did a pretty shitty job, so bad that I want to humiliate you. But thinking of you as a hardworking black man who follows me around, who by now understands to work and make me happy dancing on the beach with the girls, a black man of the Hawk Family who has left an impression on my father with his sheer audacity, I’ve decided to forgive you." 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Holding the cigar, Martin looked baffled, "But I don’t feel any goodwill from you, Boss. Those words just feel like an insult, especially a racist one against black people. Should I have been scolded? But because I’m a lowly nigger, you decided to forgive me?"

"Don’t sell yourself short. Of course, you’re smart. You and that comedian from that old BT Television show, what’s his name, the one who played the clown... Ah, I remember, you’re as smart as that black star, Gerard Bote. I’m not joking," Tommy remarked, recalling a name, then said to Martin.

Martin’s eyes widened, "Gerard Porter? Doctors checked him and said his intelligence is on par with a two-year-old gorilla. A three-year-old gorilla can tie knots faster than he can! I’m as smart as him? You might as well just say, my father probably fucked a retarded black gorilla, and I, along with that knot-tying gorilla, are three brothers, with the gorilla being the smartest of us all!"

"It doesn’t matter who’s the smartest among you three, Martin. What matters is you’ve aggravated Jeff’s family problems. During an election, the family can’t have issues; they must be united, even if it’s just a facade. That’s why you often see in the news, a politician who has been exposed for cheating, but the next day his wife and children still stand beside him on camera, bragging about his sense of family responsibility," Tommy said to Martin.

"You keep grasping at political snippets you hear from your staff at your company, and tactics learned from other candidate teams. You yearn for that life, like a black slave owner, training a white employer’s slave like Jeff. The thrill of controlling someone’s fate fascinates you, so you work hard, evolve. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, nor was a slave’s fortune made overnight. You should’ve called me first for advice; do you know if you had, what I would’ve taught you how to handle this?"

Martin felt like Tommy nailed his recent efforts; besides making money, a big part of the reason he was so dedicated was how Jeff, as a candidate, was like a puppet, doing whatever Martin wanted. He even thought that if Jeff were elected, he’d pay a visit to his ancestors’ graves back home; black people nowadays could dominate white men, make money from them—and this white man was even a high-ranking one like a congressman, completely obedient.

"I’m not sure, boss," Martin honestly replied.

Tommy took a small sip of beer, remarking lightly, "Find a gigolo for Jessica quietly, someone to comfort her empty soul and body in place of Jeff."

Not just Martin, but even Stephen, who was half-closing his eyes to enjoy the sea breeze, sat up a bit straighter at that. Good grief, Tommy really cared about his endorsed candidate. He even arranged someone to take care of Jeff’s wife so he could focus on the election. By that logic, since Bill supported that Cuban female candidate, to ensure she focused on the election, would Bill replace her by sleeping with her husband?