American fame and fortune

After removing his make-up and changing back into his clothes, Martin came out of the temporary dressing room and went to a place that would not interfere with other people's work. After observing for a while, he found the fat Andrew.

When the other party was free, he walked over: "Mr. Andrew."

Andrew still remembered Martin: "Didn't go to collect the money? Can't find the accounting room?"

Martin smiled and said, "I just saw you when I came out, so come and say thank you."

Andrew had a good impression of him: "You are doing well."

Fatty is an employee who closely follows the boss's footsteps. Martin changed the subject: "I will see my friend later and ask her to contact friends with the same aspirations. Then I will ask Mr. Andrew for help."

"No problem." Andrew thought for a while, and said, "Since you support freedom and progress and are willing to contribute, you should also pay more attention to social current affairs. If you encounter something that is not conducive to the Freedom Association, please notify me in time."

He said similar things to many people he knew, in order to please the boss.

In order to get promoted, he kept up with his boss.

Martin naturally agreed.

A brand new BMW 7 Series drove up on the farmer's road, which attracted the attention of many people, and Andrew's eyes also turned there.

When the car came to a stop, the young female assistant who got in and out of the co-pilot opened the rear door, and the short-haired woman in business attire got out of the car with her head bowed.

Andrew waved at Martin and strode over there.

Martin asked a passing extra: "Who's that? That's great."

He kept walking before the performance, and said casually: "The boss of the company."

Martin understood that this was Kelly Gray, a stalwart of the ATL Freedom Association.

He soon discovered that Andrew couldn't talk to Kelly Gray, but was very familiar with the female assistant.

Robert suddenly flashed from behind: "Let's go get the money together, I want to eat a damn big meal tonight!"

"Dude, why don't you keep me waiting for dinner?" Martin asked.

Robert followed him to the financial room: "Another day, another day."

Before four o'clock, the filming of the scene belonging to the two of them had ended. They each signed a $100 check and came to the place where the extras gathered.

When Martin saw Jerome, he went straight over: "Head, this is today's salary. I will pay the dues."

Now he can be sure that Jerome has certain abilities and connections in the low-level actor market in Atlanta.

It's much better than him bumping into headless flies alone.

Of course, the money cannot be given at one time. There are more than 20 people in the troupe, old and new, and Jerome must always remember him.

Jerome put away the check and was extremely satisfied with Martin's attitude. He thought about repaying the money as soon as he earned the money, but he didn't miss it.

It's still $200 short, don't worry, he will pay it back soon.

People's hearts are sometimes complicated. Jerome was in a good mood and asked one more question: "Is there living expenses? You can keep some."

Martin said: "I work in nightclubs at night, and my income can maintain my basic life."

Jerome collected the money, and Martin took the opportunity to ask about the situation of Gray Film and Television Production Company.

This is a local company in Atlanta. Its scale is not large. It has never produced a theatrical movie. It often cooperates with cable channels to shoot late-night programs. It also invests some funds every year to make videotape movies and directly promote them to the DVD market.

The owner, Kelly Gray, once studied in Southern California, mixed in Hollywood, and is greatly influenced by Californians. She is currently a relatively active liberal in Atlanta.

A little after four o'clock, a large number of extras came back, and Martin and Robert followed the large team onto the bus and returned to downtown Atlanta.

Martin picked up the car, settled for dinner casually, and rushed to Saijo Avenue. Before he parked the car, the door of a Wrangler two parking spaces away opened, and there was a burst of high-fidelity screaming F.

Martin got out of the car and locked the door.

The co-pilot of the Wrangler got on, and got off a thick-waisted, braided black woman with a big fart. She pointed into the car and scolded: "You trash, how dare you pick up girls in front of my mother! Didn't my mother pay you, what are you doing today? Now that you are developed, you dare to give my old lady a bad face!"

A bald black man came down from the other side: "Who are you calling trash? Believe it or not, I kicked you for divorce."

The hot-tempered black woman was in a hurry, and pulled out a small bright silver pistol from her basketball-like chest: "Poyet, I'm going to blow up your piece of shit."

Not to be outdone, the bald Poyet took out his M1911: "Come on, let's see who will die first."

The elderly black couple pointed guns at each other and looked like they might shoot at any time.

Martin hurried away and came to the door of the club, and found that Brainless Ivan was watching with great interest, and asked, "Do you know these two psychopaths?"

Ivan pointed to his head: "Aren't all of them sick here?"

Bruce came out of the porch and slapped Ivan on the head: "Don't say such troublesome words at the door! We are civilized people!"

Ivan was very aggrieved: "What I said is a generally accepted fact. They are usually just like normal people. With a little emotion, they become brainless beasts."

At the door of the black bar opposite, someone ran out at this time to persuade the black couple.

Martin asked, "The person on the other side?"

Bruce said: "The man's name is Poyet, the owner of a black bar, and the woman's name is his wife, Betty. Both of them have black gang backgrounds in South City."

Martin scratched his head: "Husband and wife quarrel with guns."

Bruce lowered his voice: "Black gangs are extremely violent."

Martin remembered that when he ran into those two old blacks in the future, he should stay away.

The two entered the club, changed their clothes and went to work. There were very few customers tonight, and there were no more than 30 people at the most.

Martin took a $1 tip and pocketed it.

Bruce envied: "I heard that every bartender has a unique skill, do you have one?"

Martin said, "Of course." He held out his hand to Bruce a little: "But not for civilized people, because civilized people like posters."

It's not a unique skill, but a few cocktails that have not yet appeared or are generally popular in this era, such as paper airplanes.

The tall, thin, blond man with ponytail came in from the outside at this time, and when he saw Bruce, he complained, "Who is that bastard at the door? He even asked me to buy a ticket to enter."

Martin didn't need to ask, it must be Ivan.

Bruce just smirked.

The man with the ponytail turned his gaze to Martin: "Handsome guy, selling alcohol is a waste of resources! Vincent did something wrong, he put you in the wrong place!"

While talking, he went up to the second floor.

Martin asked with his eyes.

Bruce replied: "The boss invited Michael, the publicist of the night show. The customer flow should not improve. The boss called him over. This guy is out of luck."

He teased Martin: "The bartender has to work part-time as a scavenger. It's our job to dispose of Michael's body. Do you make acid? Eviscerate?"

Martin said solemnly: "I'll let civilized people lick him up!"

Bruce looked serious: "You still owe me a month of posters, and a big-ass actress."

The former is easy to solve, but the latter is too troublesome. Martin forcibly changed the subject: "The club will close down, and you will lose your job."

Bruce said, "No, the boss still has cards to play."

Martin was curious: "What hole card?"

"Solicit opinions from your subordinates." Bruce was obviously not joking: "Choose the best plan from among them."

He looked around the club: "When we changed careers, someone suggested to open a gigolo club. The boss made a choice and went to Las Vegas to investigate, and then opened the House of the Beast."

Martin said in his heart, no wonder the business is not good, the club originated from this unreliable way.

He looked at the empty field and pondered carefully.

When he was free again, Martin asked: "The club's business situation is not good. Where is the person who made the suggestion?"

Bruce pointed to the ring stage: "The boss made Hart dance on it until he got better."