Watching TV with the Red chinese man. Watching TV with the Red chinese. Watching TV with the Red chinese traditional. User Score Overview In New York City in 1980, Dexter Mitchell plays half-willing big brother to his neighbors, a trio of exchange students from the People's Republic of China. Featured Crew Shimon Dotan Director, Screenplay Luke Whisnant Story Netaya Anbar Writer You need to be logged in to continue. Click here to login or here to sign up. Global s focus the search bar p open profile menu esc close an open window? open keyboard shortcut window On media pages b go back (or to parent when applicable) e go to edit page On TV season pages → (right arrow) go to next season ← (left arrow) go to previous season On TV episode pages → (right arrow) go to next episode ← (left arrow) go to previous episode On all image pages a open add image window On all edit pages t open translation selector ctrl + s submit form On discussion pages n create new discussion w toggle watching status p toggle public/private c toggle close/open a open activity r reply to discussion l go to last reply ctrl + enter submit your message → (right arrow) next page ← (left arrow) previous page.
You're the reason I'm learning Russiannnnn. I learned korean all by myswlff. Watching TV with the Red chinese new year. Charlie. may i ask, why did you interrupt her? not only once but twice.
Watching TV with the Red chinese orchestra. This how i learned English, i used to watch movies for fun, learning the language wasn't even my intention then i started to like some English speaking YouTubers, day after day my language got better and better and by the age of 16 i was already fluent in English. But English is the easiest language to learn in my opinion because we already are surrounded by it wether in movies and TV shows or in school. Now I'm 18 and i want to start learning Spanish but i have no idea where to start🤣. i still think watching tv is helpful but i feel like i need some kind of base of vocabulary or grammar to build the rest on it🙄.
Watching tv with the red chinese full movie. Watching TV with the Red chinese new. Meanwhile in the US SR. Ipartment is debatelbly the best Chinese TV show. And for everyone defending that Chinese TV shows are good, you either arent paying attention to the plot and acting and just focusing on their faces. Or you don't know chinese. Alot of Chinese TV shows are pretty bad. Im currently working on agmented reality for study. its realler interresting.
Have you seen the movie with Gong Li. If not, I highly recommend it. Watching TV with the Red chinese language. Watching TV with the Red chinese food. Watching tv with the red chinese 2012 cast. Watching tv with the red chinese.
Watching TV with the Red chinese blog. Stop! No, keep going. 2:19 ) Couldn't possibly love Sheepy more. Watching tv with the red chinese 2012. Stromae, toujours une bonne base niveau instrus. Stromae in the background ❤ J'adore tes vidéos mais surtout ta chanson je crois pas ! Je l'ai saigné tout l'été ! Do one other more of this kind please. 7:Am Waking up The start of the routine John’s smart home assistant started the routine. Starting the day off with classical music, a favorite of his. He opened his eyes and rubbed them. He let out a big yawn and stretched out his arms and legs. His legs and arms went straight up in the air. He went to the bathroom, he took a shower, he was fighting with the shower valve to get the right temperature. He put his hand into the shower to check the temperature as he adjusted it to the right, ‘Ah shit that’s too hot! ’ His immediate knee-jerk reaction to the scalding water was to pull his hand out, he adjusted it a bit too the left ‘too cold’. He spent 20 minutes trying to get the right temperature. After he got into his bathrobe and went inside his kitchen. He looked in his counter bending down to get a look at what’s inside. ‘I shouldn't have bought so many noodles I'm getting sick and tired of them’ he microwaved some cup noodles and ate em. After brushing his teeth, and dressing up. Looking himself in the mirror he tied a Half-Windsor knot dressed ready for today. He took the suitcase proceeding to leave the condo. It was while he was walking he decided to make a tweet. Like most Homo-Sapiens of the modern era John participated in social media. It is there that people would express their opinions, some of them smart and well thought out, though it is to say most of them are dumb and pointless and that if the world lacked their input society wouldn’t be a worser place. ‘Protest at 2pm Today! Mengal street Fight for your rights people!!! #blacklivesmatter #BrokenSystem. ’ Followed by a bomb emoji, with 2 fires, one middle finger, and face with sunglasses. The irony is the fact that not that many black people live in Sunny Hills. Like most of Canada it’s whiter than vanilla ice cream. Regardless of that fact he still inserts it in many of his posts. In fact John would act real odd around black people. Whenever he would meet one he would all of a sudden become overly friendly, and start to chat a lot with them, he even tried to speak in african-amercian vernacular (also known as ebonics) but his impression of a black man just made him come off as racist. In fact one notable incident was when he said the n-word, it was when John was invited to a house party, he was greeting a black friend of his friend that he just met there. “What’s up my nigga my motherfuckin name is John. How’s yo day?? ” Everyone in the party froze and went silent and looked at John, and the man just slapped John in the face. “I can’t believe you just said what you just said. May I state my given name is Oliver, and that I’m in abhorrence of your behavior” He spoke in an english accent. That was also the last time John was invited to a house party. Morning coffee Arriving at Starbucks. John approached the counter. The employee operating the cashier was a blonde woman with long hair and with eyebags, they looked overall unsatisfied and tired, and just not good. She asked John in a monotone voice, “Hello welcome to starbucks, what would you like today? ” “May I have a 'Creamy Glazed Caramel Strawberry Orange flavoursmash Frappuccino'? " She rolled her eyes and swung her head around as she answered sarcastically. “Ugh, ok. ” She then proceeded to write down the order on a notepad. She went to the barista and gave them the notepad. After getting his 'Creamy Glazed Caramel Strawberry Orange flavoursmash Frappuccino' he sat at a table, got out his suitcase and opened it and took out his laptop. After making sure there was no one else in the cafe who was looking. He turned his laptop on. Greeted by the familiar Windows® logo on his laptop screen. When the laptop finished booting up he logged in into his account. He was greeted by notifications some of which were legitimate email notifications. Others were stuff like ‘HOT SINGLES LOOKING FOR MEN IN YOUR AREA’ ‘CLICK THIS LINK TO GET A FREE IPHONE 11’ ‘YOUR COMPUTER HAS A VIRUS’, John had accidentally downloaded a virus doing some ‘research’ on his work laptop. He checked his email as he usually always does and saw the new mail in his inbox. When he opened it he saw only one attachment to it. It was a txt file. Opening it just shows a bunch of seemingly random sets of numbers and words. He opened a decryption program and ran the file through it. Reading this while sipping his 'Creamy Glazed Caramel Strawberry Orange flavoursmash Frappuccino'. It started out reading like this ‘MESSAGE FROM MANAGEMENT’ ‘Hey John, Just wanted to say the good performance last month was Impressive. Now we need you to help us with something. It's a job. So we received a request from a client to terminate a man that lives at qckjws qkxsg, 2005 lnfajpah dncjou Go in the house Kill him Dispose evidence It's simple you have done this many times before. Sent From Ipad’ He closed his laptop and put it back into the suitcase. He finished his 'Creamy Glazed Caramel Strawberry Orange flavoursmash Frappuccino'. John is like any ordinary man. At least that's what you would think from the surface. He's a hitman. Ever since he was a child John always wanted to change the world. But money problems have hit John as activism doesn't pay. John knew he didn't want an office job and wanted to have a job that mattered in the world. So the logical decision was, be a hitman. To John it was the only choice he had. Now here he is making blood money 1:Pm The job The house John arrived at the address of the house. It had a rustic charm to it. You could see the white paint peeling off the picket fence with grass poking through the fence. The lawn had grass covering the entirety of the ground growing as high as John’s knee. He took it all in observing everything. It seemed mother nature had taken her course. Wading through the grass he walked up to the wooden steps. Every step he took climbing the stairs made them creak. He put down his suitcase and opened it up he took out a lockpick. The Kitchen The lock made a click sound and John opened the door. As he entered the house he noted how there was a lack of lighting. He was in a hallway, to his left was a door which was a couple steps away. Forward he could see that it led to a kitchen. He saw an open fridge, being the only source of light in the kitchen. Entering the kitchen he saw a man sitting on the floor resting his back on the kitchen counter, one arm of his hanged on to the countertop. He wore a puked-stained pink floyd t-shirt and green khakis. On his right arm appeared to be a picture frame. John could tell the man was drunk with the mess of beer bottles everywhere on the floor. The man was mumbling but John couldn’t hear what it was. He walked toward the man, but as he did he hit a beer bottle with his feet which made a clink sound, having heard something that wasn’t the buzz of the fridge the target had asked. “Who is it? What do you want? My wife divorced me, leave me alone! ” John decided to answer truthfully. “I'm your killer who am I, it doesn’t concern you, because you are my target. ” “Ah, that sounds great. ” He answered sardonically his voice filled with contempt at the world. The man proceeded to tell John that if he was gonna kill him he might as well do him a favour. ‘This man has nothing to lose anymore he isn’t even fighting back, ’ he had thought while the man gave him instructions. “I'm going to only tell you this once. So you better listen. First get the tape recorder on the kitchen countertop. That one. Second, I want you to shoot me in the head Ok? You better make it quick that’s all. ” John followed the instructions, the man put the voice recorder to his ear. “Oh it's her voice. I'm hearing her voice for the last time. ” He curled himself into a ball and rocked back and forth. He started to repeat himself. “I’m sorry… I'm sorry.. I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! ” He started screaming ‘IM SORRY OK! IM-” JOhn had taken the shot He couldn’t stand listening to this man’s sad existence any longer Disposing of evidence I It was a swift and painless death, merciful. The bullet lacerated the man’s skull and brains fragments of it spilling onto the man, slumped lifelessly on the floor, and died without protest. John was curious to what the man was listening to. He pulled the device from the grip of the corpse. As he examined the voice recorder he noticed a bit of blood had gotten on it. He pressed the green play button and heard a man grunting and a woman moaning. The late fellow had recorded their coitus. This realization perturbed him and he turned off the voice recorder. He found several Lysol cans in the cabinet under the sink. He turned on the stove at a high temperature, he laid the cans on the floor. Proceed to open his briefcase. In it were some matches and a lighter. In a matter of minutes the house was in flames. Looking at his phone he realized he was a couple minutes late to the protest the current mayor Peter Johnson. He opened his suitcase and changed into his activism attire. Which was a blue button up polo and a sand brown khaki pants. It's time he had a protest to lead. 2:20 PM The Protest A Nuisance As the people gather in their positions in anticipation of going live. While the woman sitting behind the desk clears her throat. The cameraman zooms in towards her face. The technical director is shouting instructions to the entire crew, "Hey! Turn on the damn teleprompter what do I pay you for? We're live in 20 seconds! " The operator fumbled with the teleprompter but managed to get it set up. "Ok people we only got one shot so make this count. We're going live in…. " 10.. … 9….. 8…. 7… 6… 5… 4.. 3.. 2.. 1. A Nuisance 2 The television was displaying a local news channel. There was a man sitting on a leather chair watching it with intent. It was Peter Johnson, the woman was talking about the protest currently happening throughout the city. "A man by the name of John Arkwell is currently leading an imposition against the mayor, regarding his policies related to cutting off funding for programs and education and accusations of corruption. " The TV was showing a bird’s eye view of Mengal Street from the news chopper. It seemed crowded there. It seems there are many people in that one place protesting against the mayor, “John Arkwell had used his social media savvy to spread news about the protest and to contact fellow activists. Our correspondent is on the ground reporting on the action as it happens” Johnson's face was making absolutely no attempt to hide the anger in his eyes. As the screen cut to the reporter on the ground there were people everywhere it was crowded too. You could barely hear what he was screaming over the people protesting. "This is Max of 78 News! I'm currently here at the protest! As you can see a large amount of people are concentrated here! As we speak though the leader has yet to show-'' A man of tall stature wearing a blue polo ran by and accidentally knocked the corresponding. He stopped to help the man up apologizing. “Look-" Peter had turned off the TV cutting short whatever the man was saying. He drawed out his phone from his pocket. Special Arrangements Transcription was recorded Thursday last week at exactly 2:55pm 'The call is accepted' Unknown: "Who is this? " Peter Johnson: "It's me Pete, look uhm I need you to do a job for me. I need someone gone. They're causing too much of a kerfuffle for me. " Unknown: "Alright give me the details and specifics unless you wanna go meet about this somewhere 'private'? " Peter Johnson: "Turn your cable tv to channel 78 now. " Unknown: "So this is the man? " Peter Johnson: "Meet me in my office we will discuss payment and more there. " 'Call is ended' 'Dial tone' This transcription was provided in part of Star® Telecommunications Auto-Electronic-Smart-Transcription™ service. Thank you for choosing Star® as your provider of telecommunications with over decades of experience. Star® Telecommunications 'Connecting The World Together™' ©1981 © 2019 Meanwhile… tardy (thahr-dee) to act or move or happen. time. “Oh shit. Oh shit, ” John said in an exasperated voice. Himself had been running for quite a while now, as he was late. However failing to notice the news correspondent that was in his way he knocked them over, as he passed by. He stopped to help the man up, of whom was wearing casual clothing a tshirt and some jeans. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you there. ” He said in sincere apology. The correspondent got up and dusted off his pants. “Look I gotta go ok? I'm late for something. ” John was in a rush, he went through the crowd of protesters “I’m sorry- oh didn’t see you there. My bad. Oh excuse me, I'm coming through. Don't mind me. ” When he got to the front of the protest, One of the participants recognized John and approached him. “Where have you been?! We’ve been waiting for an hour. ” Appearing in a state of disbelief that John would be tardy to such an important event. “Well, I'm sorry, yet I'm here now. ” The man just sighed in response to what John had said, “Well… Ok I guess so. But at least give a heads up ok? ” He put a megaphone in John’s open palm, he gripped his hand and looked at him with solemn face. “Do what you do ok? ” 4:00 pm “Maybe I should get a pizza, or maybe some chinese? ” John muttered to himself quietly, standing by his front condo door his feet planted top of the welcome mat. He reached into his pant pocket to get his key when he realised he made a grave mistake. He had left his suitcase and other clothes in the burning house, but that was not the problem he could always replace those; he left his key in the shirt pocket, that same shirt was the one he left. He then remembered about the ket under his mat. However, when he looked, it wasn’t there. ‘How odd, ’ he noted he didn’t remember putting it somewhere else. John brushed it off ‘must have been a false memory, ’ he thought. Now, the office usually closes around this time, John debated whether he should go to a motel or ask a favour from one of his friends. Then again, the last time he actually stayed at a friend’s house, he walked into the washroom at 2 in the morning to catch his friend masturbating; the image seared into his memory, it was a scar he would never be able to remove or forget, couldn’t help feeling second-hand embarrassment thinking about it. ‘I'd much rather go to the motel, ’ he had concurred. Not soon after just exactly a second later, a bullet had barely missed John’s head, instead the path it went was toward the door shredding through the wood. ‘I don't remember living in the hoo-’ his thoughts were interrupted by his windows shattering, he snapped back into reality. John started to run like hell. He regretted not having done cardio more as it would come in handy right about now. 5 pm The adrenaline had worn off by this time. John’s right leg hurt as some would say ‘like a motherfucker’. His right pant leg red with blood, covering the gunshot wound with the right hand and applying pressure. He had limped his way into a suburban neighborhood. He couldn’t remember how he got there, but what he did know was with every step he would experience such a tremendous pain that his vision would blur. It’s quite a feat how he managed to not have blacked out considering he was in a state like was when a soccer ball rolled into his path. A young child filled with the energy and imagination of a 7 year old, blessed with youthful ignorance, had chased after the ball, seeing John however he stopped in his tracks. He was curious, and asked John a question. “You’re not from here are you? ” He then looked at John’s leg and saw his gunshot wound. “My mom, told me to not talk to strangers, you seem like a dangerous stranger. ” The boy took a deep breath and started to scream as loud as he could. ‘STRANGER DANGER! STRANGE-”, John had subdued the child using the same handkerchief that he covered his wound with, to gag the boy so he wouldn’t attract unnecessary and unwanted attention. pm“Look I don't want to hurt you ok? Just please be a bit quieter. ” As he said that the boy had stopped struggling “Good you understand. ” He let go and released the child. However the boy just fell to the ground face first. ‘What? ’ he thought. He turned the child around. He saw the blood stained face of the child. His eyes were open but he didn’t respond to anything John did. He then came to the grave realisation that he killed a child. He left what would soon become a crime scene 6pm “Ah fuck, my leg hurts. ” John cursed under his breath, as he limped through the sidewalk, his eyes darted around in many directions, he scanned the empty shopping district of Mengal Street. It was a mosaic of Mom and pop shops, your run of the mill outlets, sub-par restaurants, and whatever else it may offer. John had spotted a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. He ignored them as he passed the man. He heard them on the sidewalk. He heard them start mumbling something behind him. ‘Must be a meth head’ he thought. “I know you have blood on your hands, killer. ” John heard the voice behind him, he turned around to see the man swing a makeshift knife towards his face. He stepped back and the attacker missed. John grabbed the man by his arms, he then proceeded to disarm them knocking the knife to the ground and kicking it away. “What are you doing? ” John shouted at them, he was struggling and them and was trying to restrain them. The man kicked John in the testicles, sending him stumbling back. The assailant stepped forward after picking up the knife from the ground, he tried to stab John lying on the ground. John grabbed the man's hands and struggled, he was trying to prevent the man from stabbing him in the face by pushing back the hand but they were in a power struggle. He headbutted the attacker who got disoriented and stepped back. The time gave him the opportunity to get up and get out. In the distance he saw a beat cop walking the streets. He was relieved ‘thank God’. he limped towards them “Help. I’ve been attacked! There’s this man who’s trying to assault me! ” He shouted at them. The cop turned around and walked towards John. When the cop got to John he said, “Thank God someone can help me-” He was interrupted mid-way by the cop kicking him onto the ground face first, the officer knelt and put handcuffs on John’s wrist. “You have the right to remain silent. ” As he stated the rights John had. The homeless man who attacked John in his ragged clothes ran up to the officer. “Thank you for getting the child killer Officer, I tried to get him myself but he got away. ” ‘Child Killer?! ’ John thought. Then he remembered, the blood from his handkerchief was on the boy. ‘Shit, ’ he realised what he had done. The officer and the homeless person were having a conversation with each other. They were distracted. Taking advantage of the current situation he got up, though he did struggled a bit doing it. Thereafter he ran away, the two were so caught up with their conversation about the rising crime rates and how immigrants may be responsible for it; that they didn’t notice until five minutes later, “-like I was saying all these people want syrian law right? So I say to them- Wait, oh shit he left. ” The officer realised and screamed out in clear frustration. John had found a stop sign and filed his handcuffs against the stop sign. It took a while but they eventually broke apart. However the cuffs were still around his wrist, but he could move his hands more freely now. John couldn’t tell where he was at night all the neighborhood’s with their houses looked identical. He stopped limping along and decided to get some bearing of where he was. ‘Oh wait, I know exactly where to go’ he thought. By now his gunshot wound had stopped bleeding his right leg was stained and caked with blood. John had decided where he was going to go, walking past the houses and so on. He was liping quite a bit faster now since it had stopped hurting. He decided to take a stop, he took out his handkerchief soaked in blood and had decided to wrang it all out. His hands grabbed both ends, and squeezed the towel twisting and turning. Drops of blood dripped into the sidewalk little by little. He kept squeezing it, more and more. It started to pool into a puddle by his feet, ‘Plat-Plat-Plat-Plat’. More blood came out as he kept squeezing. The puddle grew bigger. John had strained as hard as he could but there was still more blood. He kept screwing it. It was to a point it formed a pool by his feet. John put the handkerchief into his pant’s pocket, and he looked at his hands. Open-palmed they painted red even his fingernails he examined them turning them over expressing a sickening look on his face. After he was done ge kept walking, leaving crimson-red shoe prints in his path. John had noticed he had felt lightheaded, but he ignored it. ‘Everything is fine. ’ He had thought to himself. He kept limping forward and his vision started to blur. Nonetheless he never let that stop him either. He kept persisting as his vision blurred and blurred even more. Then, it cleared. By some matter of coincidence he had found himself back at his house. The door was open thankfully. He stepped inside and as he did he heard a faint click sound by the kitchen. He thought it was his mind playing tricks on him. He dragged his bloody shoes into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He looked for his backpack, turning his room upside down to find it. He then noted that he started to smell smoke. He opened the door, the door knob was warm. He saw that his house was on fire, and that he would not be able to escape. He felt the intense heat envelop him and the room. He decided to go to his closet and got out one of his ties. Just a plain red one, John sighed “Well if this is how I go this is how I go. ” He put on the tie. Then he let go. Fire, fire over here. In his house. In his closet. Burning down into the carpet. Death by burning in fire? He decides not. With a tie. A simple knot. Out he goes without a thought.
Delivery. Women always fail the delivery. 我在泰国不可以看😭😭😭. Watching tv with the red chinese movie.
- Publisher: Darren Noell
- Bio: Filmbuff that likes to relax, chill out with a good movie, from time to time. Student and IT consultant. For else DM me. :)