newlangren | 1 points | Oct 07 2021 09:52:37

The year is 2040. As a result of the one-child policy, China's elderly population massively eclipses the young. The country's youth are forced out of school to take jobs and care for the senior citizens. The economy has basically collapsed, and society is turning in a dark direction. President Xi has called it a nationwide emergency. Other countries point and laugh at the once-proud Zhongguo. There is only one solution to this catastrophic problem: Foreigners. I step off the jumbo jet into the light of Beijing. I breeze through immigration with a VIP visa, and a private chauffeur waves me into his limousine to take me into the city. China has spared no expense in bringing foreigners from abroad to fill the gaps in the workforce. Laowais from the best (whitest) countries begin to flood into China. I view the transformations through the limo window. Street markets are being torn down and replaced with Mcdonalds and Burger King - food fit for the new demographic. The homeless are being hosed down and rolled up into bags, to be relocated away from the lofty foreign eyes. Police stand at every street corner, watching the traffic to ensure drivers follow western sensibilities. China is being remodeled - some may even call it a cultural revolution. Everything is still under fucking construction, though, and the sound of drills permeates every inch of the city. Some things never change. I arrive at the five-star hotel that China has paid for while I wait to be placed into a work program. My room is sparkling, clean, and I have access to a swimming pool and fitness center. This is what China is all about. THIS is what China was supposed to be... Twenty years earlier, I had come to Beijing for the first time, a bright-eyed lad fresh out of University. I had been recruited as a "Foreign Language Instructor", ready to influence the minds of China's best and brightest. I was ready to change the world. I think you all know how that turned out. I danced and sang ridiculous songs for lazy, greedy children. “ABC, 123, come learn English with me!” I hung out at the filthiest expat bars, drinking all night and ladoozing all day. I developed lung issues from the pollution, and mental issues from dealing with the barbaric, stinking masses. I barely survived the year, and ran home with my tail between my legs as soon as my contract ended. I was scarred for decades. “ABC, 123, come learn English with me!” The song remained in my head all this time... But things would be different now. I would finally be a valued contributor. No longer would I be sneered and leered at by the locals. I would not settle for shit food, shit water or shit sex with rainies. I was going to be a king. I dine at the gourmet buffet in the hotel dining room, paid for by Xi, of course. I go for a massage at the fitness center - no happy ending, thank you, I’m a discerning man - and then retire to my room. As I begin to doze off, there is a knock on my door. I open it to reveal a 9/10 Chinese woman, scantily-clad and posing seductively for me. She pushes me into my room and onto the bed. “China now understands the need for children to keep the population stable,” the woman explains as she undresses. “As part of your work program, you will be expected to impregnate five Chinese women per week. I hope it’s harmonious for you.” “F-fine by me,” I say as she climbs on top of me. Five minutes later (thought it feels likes hours), I blow my load and the woman climbs off me, smiling like it’s the happiest day of her life. She bows deeply and thanks me for my generous contribution. This is the new China. This is life. The next day, the limo takes me to a government center where my job will be assigned to me. In this new China, I’ve heard that most Laowai get ridiculous expat jobs and packages - working for a few hours a day as leaders of investment firms and engineering plants, then returning home to their luxury apartments, paid for by the government. I ponder what kind of job I will be assigned. True, my university degree was a double major of women’s studies and art history, but it shouldn’t be a problem. At the government center, I enter a conference room full of expats. We all ignore each other and mess around on our phones while we wait. Some things never change. Finally, Xi Jinping himself walks into the room. He bows deeply, chin touching his toes, and thanks every foreigner for graciously coming to China. Xi then begins to read off a list of foreigners and their job assignments: “Patty Femme, from Mayguo: You will be a lead manager at the head office of Mcdonalds China. Thank you.” An obese woman stands and nods her head in acceptance. Xi’s male assistants all start sweating profusely, their boners rising quickly at the sight of Patty’s ample flesh. It seems white women are still in vogue. “Kim Chee, from Hangoog: You will be my personal translator whenever I must contact your wonderful country,” Xi continues. A Korean woman stands and walks over to his side. It seems that China must even suck up to Korea, now. Pathetic. Xi continues to read off a list of jobs for the expats in the room. Doctor. Dentist. Wechat CEO. I tremble in anticipation of my job. Finally, I’m the last one sitting in the room. Xi smiles slightly as he reads from his list. “Ah, Tim Budong...you have been given a job that suits your skills and education level. Congratulations...You are going to be a Foreign Language Developer at Smiling Turtle English Academy!” I sit, stunned, contemplating what I just heard...and then I leap from my chair, pouncing on Xi and wrapping my hands around his fat neck. His assistants try to pry me off, but I’m a thick-built western man, and they are malnourished Chinese. Even as my body becomes laced with bullets, my hold on Xi does not falter. The pleasure I feel from watching his eyes roll back into his head is greater than sex with a thousand rainies. Finally, Xi drops dead to the floor, and I let go. The carpet is covered with my blood, pouring from a dozen bullet holes. My vision begins to blur, and the sounds around me are distorted...but, clear as day, I can still hear “ABC, 123, come learn English with me!” The song is a dirge of anguish, coaxing me into death. Some things never change.