Chapter 4 3

Rich people, all shit! Rat propped his hands on the counter and yelled at me somberly. Maybe the object of the mouse roar is the coffee grinder behind me.I sat at the counter next to the rat, and there was no point in yelling at me specifically.But no matter what, the mouse, as usual, started to drink the beer that seemed to be delicious as soon as it finished roaring. In fact, no one around noticed the loud roar of the mouse.Because the small shop is full of customers, and everyone is yelling at each other equally loudly.It's like the scene of a passenger ship just before it sinks. Full of bedbugs!After speaking, the mouse shook his head impatiently.

Those guys don't know anything, and when I see guys who put on a rich face, it makes me sick. My lips were still on the rim of the thin beer glass, and I nodded silently.After saying this, the mouse closed its mouth, and turned its slender fingers on the counter over and over as if looking at firewood several times.I simply looked up at the ceiling.If the ten fingers are not checked one by one in order, he will not start the next topic, it is like this every time. The mouse and I spent the whole summer, as if bewitched by something, drinking as much beer as the entire twenty-five-meter swimming pool.Peel off the peanut shells that can cover the floor of Jay's bar five centimeters thick.And it was one of those boring summers that you can't live without.

On the counter of Jay's Bar, there is an engraving discolored by cigarette grease. When I am bored, I will not tire of looking at it for hours.Like the kind you could use for the Rorschach Test, it looks like two green monkeys sitting across from me throwing two deflated tennis balls at each other. When I said this to the bartender Jie, he looked at it for a while, and then replied weakly: Well, it seems so. Don't know what it symbolizes?I tried to ask him that. The monkey on the left is you, and the monkey on the right is me. I throw the beer bottle over, and you throw the money over.

I drank the beer in admiration. nausea! After the mouse carefully read the fingers one by one, he cursed again. Rats aren't new to speaking ill of rich people, and actually hate them very much.The mouse is quite rich in his own family, but every time I accuse him of this, the mouse must say: It's not because of me. Sometimes (mostly when I've had too much beer) I'll say: No, it's because of you.And it must be in a bad mood.Because there is some truth in what the mouse said. Why do you think I hate rich people? That night, the mouse went on, it was the first time the subject had gone so far.

I shook my head and said I don't know. To put it plainly, it's because rich people don't want anything.If you don't have a flashlight and a ruler, you can't even grab your own ass. To put it clearly, it is the spoken language of mice. real? Um!Those guys don't think about anything important.Just pretending to be thinking, do you know why? Why? Because there is no need.Of course, it takes a bit of brainpower to become a rich person, but to continue to be a rich person, you don't need anything.Just like artificial satellites don't need to be refueled.Just go round and round in the same place.Not me, though, and neither are you, who have to keep using their brains to survive, from tomorrow's weather to the size of the bathroom plug, right?

oh.I said. That's it. After the mouse had said all it wanted to say, it took out the toilet paper from its pocket and blew its nose loudly in boredom.I really don't know how serious the mouse is. But in the end everyone dies.I try to say that. That's true.Everyone dies sooner or later.But until that day, I have to live for fifty years, thinking about all kinds of things while living for fifty years. To be clear, it is more tiring than living for five thousand years without thinking about anything, right? Indeed.