"No wonder this is a big city!"
The smooth and clean asphalt roads, the beautiful cars driving by in groups, the row upon row of gorgeous houses, and most importantly, the well-dressed wives and young ladies were all eye-opening for Roger, who had only been to the city a few times.
He was wearing a dirty suit, which was his late father's clothes that he had found in a suitcase. It was a little tight on him. The suit jacket could effectively cover the revolver under his armpit, so that he wouldn't scare the distinguished ladies and gentlemen in the city. But then again, the girls in the city were so beautiful that Roger couldn't see enough of them.
"I'm warning you, don't even think about running away. You're my money tree. Whether you can ride on a pretty girl or not depends on your performance," Roger warned while holding Famous's hand.
He stood at the door of the film company, adjusted his wrinkled bow tie, and said to the concierge in the most polite tone he could muster, "Hi, hello! I'm Roger Leslie, from Leslie's Farm. I have an appointment with Mr. Charles. "
The concierge looked at him coldly. Although Roger thought he was being polite, he couldn't hide his country bumpkin's vulgar tone.
"Go up, Mr. Charles is in room 301. Also, don't let your dog poop in the corridor, or I'll make you eat the poop and leave nothing behind! In this building, dogs are much more valuable than you! "the concierge warned expressionlessly.
Roger coughed and led Famous upstairs. On the way, his eyes kept glancing at the female stenographers who passed by him, and he resisted the urge to touch their butts. He didn't understand why society could tolerate these beautiful girls working in the same office as men. Even if society could tolerate it, could those men? Those who could tolerate it were definitely not men.
He stood in front of room 301 and knocked on the door three times.
"Come in," a sweet female voice said.
Roger opened the door as if he had been captivated and saw a beautiful blonde sitting behind a desk. She smiled at him and said, "Are you Mr. Leslie? Mr. Charles is waiting for you inside. "
It turned out that Office 301 was still a suite, and the person working outside was Charles' full-time secretary. She wore a standard suit with a skirt six inches off the floor and stockings rolled up to her calves, revealing smooth, almost criminally tempting knees. She had been reading a New Yorker magazine before Roger came in, and had stopped on a fashion column signed "Lipstick" — How to Live the Wild Night.
Roger took off his hat like a gentleman and tried to strike up a conversation with her. "Beauty, just call me Roger. Hi! I have a suggestion. Are you free tonight? Can I treat you to a meal? "
The secretary maintained a polite but unapproachable smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Leslie. I have an appointment tonight."
What a disappointment!
Roger muttered to himself as he pushed open the door to the inner room.
The decoration of this office was very luxurious. It was as spacious as a palace. The cashmere carpet from Turkey perfectly absorbed the sound of footsteps, the imposing desk was wrapped in brass, and a large oil painting of the company's founder hung on the wall.
Charles was talking to another man in a very polite tone, quite different from the one he had spoken to Roger the day before.
"Good day, Mr. Charles," Roger said respectfully. "I'm here."
Charles looked back at Famous, ignored Roger, and said to the other man, "Mr. Duncan, look at this dog. Doesn't it look like your dog?"
At this time, both Famous and Roger noticed that there was another dog in the office. This dog was squatting on a high-back chair in front of a dining table covered with a white tablecloth. A man dressed like a chef took out a fragrant grilled steak from a dining cart and placed it on the table.
"Please enjoy, sir," the chef said respectfully. He lowered his head and pushed the dining cart out of the room. The person he was talking to was just a dog.
In addition to the steak, there was a glass of mellow amber-colored wine on the table, a fragrant rose in a porcelain vase from China, and silver cutlery from the manufacturer Robbe Berking were neatly placed on both sides of the plate.
The German Shepherd arrogantly glanced at Roger and Famous, then buried its head in the plate, ignoring the silver cutlery, and started to eat the steak.
Famous stared blankly at its kind, which was extremely luxurious, while Roger was drooling over the wine.
Charles gave Roger a warning stare. "Our big star likes to drink a few glasses. You didn't see anything. Do you understand?"
"Yes, yes, I understand. You can rest assured, sir. "Roger swallowed.
He knew that Charles didn't want him to publicize the wine. After all, even a country bumpkin like him knew that the Prohibition Law enacted by Congress had put hundreds of thousands of people in prison. He knew that this dog was very famous, but he didn't expect that a senior director like Charles would be willing to risk breaking the law to satisfy his desire for good food.
The concierge told him that people in this building were not as good as dogs. At first, he thought it was a joke or satire, but he never expected it to be true. In that case, if Famous defecated in the corridor, he might really be forced to swallow dog feces.
The man named Duncan was well-proportioned and handsome. Holding a lit pipe, he leisurely strolled in front of Famous, looked at it with contempt, and said, "Is this the dog named 13? Well, Mr. Charles, you are right. This dog is really f * cking similar! But it's just like it. How can it compare with my dog? "
Charles joked, "I hope so, or Jack's leg will hurt again."
The two looked at each other and smiled tacitly.
Only Roger was confused. He didn't know that they were referring to the incident where the bad-tempered dog on the table bit Jack Warner. Although it was bitten, the boss still treated the dog like an ancestor. After all, it had saved the company from the brink of bankruptcy.
Only then did Duncan look at Roger casually and asked casually, "Are you the owner of 13?"
"Yes, sir. My name is Roger, Roger Leslie. I'm at your service." Roger bowed humbly.
Duncan poked Roger's chest with his finger and said word by word, "I don't f * * king care what your name is. It's all because of this dog that you can stand here. The only thing you and your dog have to do is replace my dog in some dangerous scenes. In addition, you'd better keep your mouth shut. Don't tell anyone about this. If I hear someone spreading rumors behind my back that those famous thrilling scenes weren't performed by my dog, you'll have to wait for a subpoena from the court! "
Roger was poked and stepped back. He was furious. He had run amok in the countryside with a fast gun. He had never been humiliated like this, but for money, he dared not say anything.
Charles handed over a piece of paper, patted him on the shoulder, and said lightly, "Sign this."
"What … what is this?" Roger was basically half illiterate. The paper was densely packed with words, and he didn't know many of the words, so it was very difficult for him to read.
"A confidentiality agreement," Charles said. "As Mr. Duncan said, we are all civilized people. We must use a legal document to ensure that you won't say something that shouldn't be said. If you don't trust me, you can ask a lawyer to help you decide. "
Of course, Roger couldn't afford a lawyer, so he hesitated to sign the document. Obviously, if he didn't sign it, he would be fired. After all, Charles only wanted 13.
Charles smiled and said, "Mr. Leslie, right? 13 is excellent, but a substitute is just a substitute. You'd better not regard it as an indispensable role. You're not one either. You know, I collected several dogs from other places yesterday. Now our big star has 18 substitute dogs. It doesn't matter if there's one more or one less. If you don't want to sign it, return the check and take your dog away! "
Roger's face turned pale. He had paid off the gambling debt with yesterday's check, and the rest of the money was used to have fun with two country girls. Today, he was penniless again. How could he return the check?
"Well, sir, I'll sign it. In my opinion, we don't need to do this. I'm a tight-lipped guy, and I have been since I was a child. Even if you put a gun to my head, I won't say anything, "he muttered and signed his name crookedly on the confidentiality agreement.
During their conversation, Famous had been staring at the German Shepherd enjoying the delicious steak on the table. Its stomach was full, but it was still eating. From time to time, it stuck out its tongue to roll the wine into its mouth.
The German Shepherd was very similar to Famous from its fur color to its body shape. If they stood side by side, it would be almost impossible to tell them apart.
Famous's heart was full of sadness. It had vaguely realized something, but refused to think further.
Everything was a lie, all of it!
It used to think that it was the German Shepherd, but in fact, it was not.
Let me go, let me leave this world. I've had enough!
The world was so lonely. There was no Galaxy, no Old Time Tea, and not even a friend who could listen to it talk about its troubles.
Famous's heart was split into two. It didn't want to know who it was anymore. It just wanted to go back to the VIP room of the Binhai Golden Cinema, watch the second half of the movie with everyone, and then go back to the pet shop to have a good sleep and forget everything. When it woke up, it would quietly lie in the corner, watch Galaxy act cute, watch Fina doze off, watch Snowy Lionet be infatuated with Richard, and watch Old Time Tea taste its tea …
Most importantly, it wanted to hear Zhang Zian say, "Famous, today you're the protagonist."
It wanted to be the protagonist, even if only for one day.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
