text: "That's how the megacorps got control of this damned world," shouted the customer, a little too loudly, it was clear that he'd had too much to drink, "People stopped caring. Eventually, no-one gave a shit about justice or country. They just wanted more stuff to buy." "You're not wrong," said the Noodle Guy plopping noodles into the bowl, "But you're missing half the story." "What do you mean half the story? Are you deaf? That's all there was to it. That's why we're living in this shithole" The customer was a decent fellow. He was just one of those types that was always unpleasant to be around when drunk. Which unfortunately was around 50% of the time. "The other problem was all the people with a conscience," said the Noodle Guy, his eyes gazed down to a worn Bible in Mandarin along with a copy of Confucius's analects that he kept below the counter, "No-one agrees on right and wrong anymore. I've got a dozen guys and gals in here, all with their own opinions. Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, Nationalists, Communists, Democrats," the Noodle Guy took a long drink of water. The area near the stove was hot and dehydrating, "But money? Everyone agrees on that. Everyone agrees on how to make that. So the world decided it had enough of people killing each other over good and evil and set its sights on the one standard everyone can agree on. Financial gain." The Noodle Guy served the soup, "That'll be 100 yuan sir." "All I got is dollars," said the Customer. The Noodle guy frowned then sighed, "Hand it over," he said, **To Sell Some Noodles - Part 2 - The Clerk** Again with the weary, tired customer. Forty-year-old woman. She wore an outdated 2010's suit. Like something her grandmother might have worn. Not the Eastern-inspired outfits that the corporate types did. Not the Retro-Victorian suits worn by the Heritage types. Just a plain outfit. The type that people used to wear when the West was just the default. "Noodles. Beef udon if you have that," she said collapsing at the bar. "Government?" asked the Noodle Guy, scooping noodles into the bowl. She nodded and didn't say anything. At least until after he had served her meal. "Worse," she said, "Honest." The Noodle guy whistled, pretending to be impressed. He wasn't though. There were three types of people who went into government. Honest people, corrupt bureaucrats and law enforcement who somehow managed to combine the two. "What area?" "Government housing," she said, "What do you think Liu Wei? My friends say you're a religious man. And I feel like I've just sold my soul to the devil." "We all work with what we have," said Liu Wei, "We all know the position the government is in nowadays. It's a bigger problem than one woman can be called on to fix." "I'm going to quit. Fast food funds for better housing was one thing, but now the drug companies have gotten involved," she sighed, "I'm going to the countryside. I'll marry a rancher." "Do those still exist?" asked Liu Wei half to himself. He honestly didn't know. "I don't know. But if one exists, they might be worth marrying. Heh, who am I kidding? But it's alright to fantasize once in awhile don't you think?" She didn't have much to say afterward. Just paid for the meal and left.