Xiao China stepped out of the terminal at LAX, his face scrunched in disgust as he took in the chaotic scene before him. The airport was teeming with people, and not just any people—colorful people. Everywhere he looked, there were humans of every imaginable shade and hue, and it was deeply unsettling to him.
"Too many colors," Xiao China muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disapproval. Back in China, everyone had the decency to look the same—uniformly yellow-skinned, with black hair. Here, it was like someone had splashed paint over everything.
He scanned the crowd, frowning as he categorized the "races" in his own misguided way. There were the "Black in Black" people, draped in dark clothes. He decided to call them Black. Then there were others who weren't completely black, so he generously decided to label them Brown. As his eyes moved across the terminal, he saw a group of fair-skinned men with bright yellow hair and matching beards. Their skin even seemed to have a pale, yellowish tint. "Hmph, the Yellow Race," he muttered dismissively. Finally, there were White guys with black hair, but he quickly lost interest. "Too many colors. They can't even get their people to look the same. Truly barbaric."
His belief in Chinabawan's superiority was only growing stronger by the minute. In China, people looked alike, acted alike, and followed the same traditions. This colorful mess of a country was an insult to human civilization. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as he thought, How could my father send me here?
Determined to leave the airport and explore this so-called land of barbarians for himself, Xiao China began striding toward the exit. But just as he neared the door, an American Customs and Border Protection (CBP) officer in a blue uniform stepped in front of him, holding up a baton to stop him.
Xiao China's eyes narrowed as he sized up the officer. Clearly, this man was challenging him to a duel. The officer's baton was unmistakably a weapon, though primitive, and his posture was clearly an invitation to fight.
A slow grin spread across Xiao China's face. This fool dares to challenge me? He, the future emperor of Chinabawan, who had trained in the most ancient and refined martial art ever to exist—Kung Fu, an art that had been passed down for "billions" of years (at least in his deluded imagination). He slipped effortlessly into a Kung Fu stance, confident that he would dispatch this barbarian with ease, even without a weapon.
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The CBP officer, completely unaware of Xiao China's intentions, raised an eyebrow. "What's this guy doing?" he thought, watching as Xiao China shifted into what looked like a bizarre dance pose. The officer smiled politely, finding the strange behavior amusing but ultimately harmless.
Xiao China misinterpreted the officer's smile as one of disdain. How dare this American barbarian look down on me? he thought, fury bubbling up inside him. His opponent wasn't even bothering to take a fighting stance, and that infuriated Xiao China. He decided to strike first.
With a loud, exaggerated "Hooootaaaah!" Xiao China leapt into the air and delivered a powerful Kung Fu kick straight to the officer's face, sending him crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap.
For a moment, the airport fell completely silent.
The other CBP officers and bystanders stood frozen in disbelief, eyes wide, jaws slack. A few passengers dropped their bags, unsure if what they'd just seen was real. The previously cheerful officer was now lying on the floor, unconscious, while the strange Chinese man who had kicked him was calmly bowing over his fallen foe, showing what he believed to be proper martial etiquette.
Xiao China, in his delusion, thought, It was an easy fight. He didn't deserve my respect, but as a royal of Chinabawan, I must observe the proper rites. He straightened up and turned, feeling victorious. But before he could bask in his glory for too long, he was suddenly grabbed from behind.
Five more CBP officers tackled him to the ground. Xiao China struggled, indignant at their cowardly tactics. "Shameless! Using numbers to win!" he shouted, as they cuffed his hands behind his back.
The airport returned to its noisy chaos, but now all eyes were on the once proud Xiao China, who was now face down on the floor, restrained by several officers. His earlier confidence shattered, Xiao China lay there seething. These American barbarians have no honor, he thought. They can't fight one-on-one, so they gang up like dogs.
As he was dragged away by the officers, Xiao China reflected on the day's events with grim determination. Today, I have learned a valuable lesson, he thought. Never kick an American CBP officer. These barbarians have no shame, and they will stop at nothing to gang up on a single opponent.
His impression of America, already low, had somehow sunk even lower.