“Zhou Yang! Zhou Yang! Wake up, you are going to miss your flight!” a female voice screeched in a small Guangzhou apartment.

“Yes, mamma,” a slightly dazed and tired voice answers in Chinese. The skinny jet black-haired figure pushes himself up from his bed. He then shuffles to the bathroom, which thankfully isn’t far away. The man splashes his face with water and looks directly into the mirror.

“Time to go to America!” he says in a somewhat motivated voice.

You may be wondering who the hell Zhou Yang is? I am. I’m a young guy that barely leaves his bedroom. Video games are my main pastime. But regardless of my pastime, everything I do involves spending time at home in my room. I’ve got away with it for quite a few years. However, now my mum and dad want me to get a job. Their brilliant idea is for me to travel illegally to the USA in order to work as a dishwasher at some Chinese restaurant in New York with supposed friends of my parents, despite never having worked a physical job like this before. There’s a bigger problem: the only word in English I know is “no.”

I kissed my mum on the cheek goodbye and hugged my stern father. I then took the government-subsidized train to Guangzhou Airport. After around two hours of waiting around with tens of thousands of other travelers, I finally got on the plane. Even though I had just been on a ruthless 18 hour and 30 minutes flight, as soon as I got off the plane and found my employers, I was forced to begin my shift. After around six hours, my hands were brutalized. Two of my nails were chipped, while I had multiple bruises on the top of my hands. It was the first shift, but I already felt like quitting. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t afford a flight back home. I was stuck. I went outside and maneuvered my body behind a large bin. Sat down and smoked a cigarette.

Then a group of black guys approached me. “Give me your money now!” is what the ringleader said. Not knowing what they were saying, I just said, “No.”

“You think this is a game? I’ll blow your brains out!” the gang boss viciously replied.

“Nooooo,” I answered again more prominently to make sure that he understood what I had just told him.

“Say ‘no’ one more time. I dare you!” the gang leader shouted in my face. I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t understand my accent. I didn’t know where “Blowyar brainsout street” was.

So I just told him again, “No.” Before he could pull his hands out from his pants to shake my hand for the assistance I had provided him, one of his friends laughed and said to him, “Yoooo, this guy is funny. Let’s take him with us.”

Soon after, I was in a black G-Wagon Mercedes 4×4 with a red interior flying down the busy streets of New York while blasting Pop Smoke tunes on repeat.

“Yo man, we have to take you to this strip club that we run. You ever been to a strip club, my nigga?” one of the five men asked me.

“No,” I said while not sure what he wanted from me. The entire vehicle erupted in laughter. “Yo man, we are about to get you lit lit, if you know what I mean.” Immediately the car stopped abruptly and we made a 360-degree drift in the opposite direction. Finally, after three minutes of a rollercoaster-like journey, we skidded in front of a building with a sign that said “Awesome Ass Stripclub.” They all got out of the car and I followed them like a lost puppy. You have to remember that this was my first ever day in New York. Somehow, I joined the Bloods gang and accompanied them to their favorite gentleman’s club.

“Hi, Daddy, you wanna get some?” a middle-aged half-naked female whispered. Her breath stank of cheap cigarettes, but I couldn’t help her with directions as with the Bloods.

“No,” I quickly said to her before trying to make my getaway. As I was making my way through this smelly and hot maze of a place. I heard this same stripper say, “Hmmm, I like it when they play hard to get.” I was separated from the gang that had taken me here by this point. I half-assedly tried to find them, but I just kept on walking around sightseeing. All around me, females were twerking or pressing their bodies on silver poles. I stopped briefly to check out a performance. I had never seen asses so big.

“Who the fuck are you, huh?” a high-pitched male voice shrieked behind me. I turned around to see a fat guy pimped out in a sparkling white suit adorned with a matching top hat. Noticing that I was staring at his outfit, he said, “So you like my outfit, huh?”

“No,” I replied.

“You are a fucking PRICK! But I also respect your honesty.”

The white suit guy’s assistant waited for him to finish waffling before asking me, “Are you here for the cleaner job?”

“No,” I responded.

The white suit guy then interjected, “Oh, so you are here for the position of stripper recruiter? Nice to meet you, sir. My name is Montague Williams. It is a pleasure to meet such a world-renowned stripping connoisseur. Would you like a drink?”

Tired of his indistinguishable long speech, I gave a surprising reply, “No.”

“Okay, brilliant, no worries, let me take you to the conference room where we can conduct the interview,” he mentioned.

“No,” I countered without actually knowing what he was saying to me.

Nervously, Montague Williams said, “Uhm, okay, we can conduct the recruitment process here then. No problem at all. TAKE EVERYONE OUT!” The customers were removed from the premises, including my new gang member friends.

Three seats were pulled out for us. For me, Montague Williams and his young female personal assistant. “Okay, let the show begin,” Montague Williams bellowed. Stripper after stripper came out. And I gave a no after no after no. So many missing fathers from these young women’s lives. I gotta admit, some were actually good, but I just didn’t know how to say “Yes” in English.

“You know what, I like you. You are definitely a man that expects excellence.” Montague said while patting my back. Before the recruitment show was about to close.

The same blonde disheveled stripper that had whispered in my ear came out, “Daddy, I am here for you. I want my Asian noodle right now!” she shouted before sprinting in my direction. As she got to the edge of the stage, she dived with her legs spread open.

“Nooooope!” yelled out Montague Williams while pushing me aside. “Misty Moooo, my face!” The stripper’s crotch had collided with William’s face. Smoke was coming off of it. I guess she had twerked on so many faces she must have collected every single STD known and unknown to man.

Following Montague Williams’ death, I inherited his chain of strip clubs. Thanks to the exclusivity of my stripper recruitment process, we quickly became the most popular and profitable player in the NYC night scene. During a grand opening press conference of the “Waffle Bum Bum” strip club, a journalist asked me, “Would you let Nancy Pelosi strip at your clubs?”

Thinking she was flirting with me, I answered, “No.” The 30-second clip quickly went trending. Nancy Pelosi called me a misogynist on Twitter, which I understood thanks to my browser’s Google Translate plugin. Following this short and unexpectedly popular clip, my popularity soared. I had become an overnight politician with tens of millions of supporters.

I developed a reputation for being ruthless and unyielding to pressure. I didn’t give in to cancel culture one bit. The SJW snowflakes already knew my answer before it came out of my mouth. It was a “No.” This was the only word I knew in English. I also made history, becoming the first Republican minority presidential candidate to make it to the last leg of the debates. Opposing me was Kanye West. Although originally a Republican and a Trump supporter. Kanye was now also known as Ye. He had become a Democrat after Pete Davidson, a fellow Republican, had piped his ex-wife Kim Kardashian.

The hosts of the presidential debates were Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion. “Skrrt skrrt, so what you niggas saying. You eat the pussy or nah?” Cardi B started the important line of questioning.

“Excuse me. I am going to answer first,” Kanye interrupted me as I was about to say no.

“I think the idea of eating out is a highly important and eye-opening experience that every man should go through. Since I did that, the 22-year-olds that I’ve dated after my wife left me have been loyal for an average of three weeks,” Kanye finished.

“Thank you, Kanye, that was very sincere,” Megan Thee Stallion acknowledged.

“How about you?” Cardi B squealed at me.

“No,” I replied. The crowd went into massive applause.

Looking disappointed, Cardi B then asked, “Do you think that Hillary Clinton should be exonerated for destroying all of her emails?”

“Look, Hillary. She is a good person. She smoked weed with me and I’ve only heard her use the n-word occasionally. I also wish my wife Kim K was as loyal as Hillary is to Bill. Bill was fucking more women while married than I am while single,” Kanye explained very quickly. Even those who could speak English were as confused as me about what he was trying to say.

“Also, Kanye, we would like to reiterate that Kim Kardashian is your ex-wife,” Megan Thee Stallion confirmed.

“Fuck you!” Kanye West angrily answered.

“Anyway, what would you like to add to this?” Cardi B said while forgetting the “skrrt skrrt.”

“No,” I said back to her. The crowd cheered so vehemently that the televised debate had to be shut down early.

I had won the election. That was the only thing I understood from the entire electoral process. As I was walking in the foray, I saw a familiar MILF. It was Joe Biden’s wife. She asked me, “Do you wanna fuck?”

“Nope,” I replied to her. Since I started rejecting women, I had never been more successful in my love life. Overall, it has been a very productive stay in the United States. I had become the President of the United States. And I’d also learned a new English word, “nope,” thanks to my late friend Montague Williams.