Chapter 63: Don't Drink and Drive
"Can I join?"
Ross couldn't help but ask.
"Did you get the announcement?"
Chuck asked back.
"...No,"
Ross said unhappily. "But I'm good at math, too."
"This kind of competition is usually only for math professionals."
Chuck glanced at him. "If you haven't heard the announcement, you're not in the community, so I suggest you don't waste your time trying."
"Can we form a team?"
Rachel suggested hopefully. "There's strength in numbers."
"Officially, teams aren't allowed."
Chuck shook his head. "But if there's no one supervising, and you have ideas and nothing else to do, you could work together informally. Here's the first problem."
"..."
The group of friends exchanged glances and became excited when they heard about the possibility of working together. But after Chuck finished explaining the mathematical problem, they instantly cooled down and looked at each other in bewilderment.
They had never heard of these formulas and theorems, let alone how to apply them. After listening, they couldn't remember anything—their minds went completely blank.
"Ross?"
Rachel admitted she was clueless, and with a last glimmer of hope, she looked at the person among them who was closest to being a genius.
"I..."
Ross didn't want to embarrass himself, but facing Rachel's expectant gaze, he opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. He didn't understand these concepts at all. His eyes darted around: "I'm still processing it. This kind of problem can't be solved quickly."
"I'm sure you are."
As a good friend, Chandler was also a master of self-deprecation and sarcasm. He immediately deflated his friend: "Ross, could you repeat the problem for us? I'd love to hear it again."
Ross immediately glared at his buddy who had just burst his bubble.
"Okay, let's eat,"
Monica interrupted, bringing the turkey dinner to the table. "This is a math competition. Even for Paige and Sheldon, each level is incredibly difficult. You guys can barely handle college algebra, and you're thinking about this?"
"Yes, yes, yes, let's eat!"
Joey, the eating champion, beamed. As a high school dropout who pursued acting, he was naturally intimidated by something as complex as advanced mathematics. Just moments ago, when everyone was eager to try, he'd been relying solely on his acting skills to blend in, feeling quite intimidated.
Now, following Monica's lead, he could finally stop pretending.
"How does it taste?"
Monica cut a piece of turkey for Chuck, looking at him nervously.
"Not bad,"
Chuck took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, and nodded with an appropriate assessment.
"Just good? I think it's amazing!"
Joey mumbled, his mouth full of turkey.
"Hey, why isn't there any wine for Thanksgiving dinner?"
Ross suddenly noticed something was missing.
At this remark, the girls and Chandler all smiled knowingly. Rachel's lips curved too much, aggravating her injury and causing her to let out a low, "Ow, ow!"
"Drinking's not good for you,"
Monica said, looking down, avoiding her friends' knowing laughter.
"That's right, don't drink and drive,"
Chandler said with a half-smile. "Ross, didn't they teach you that in driver's ed?"
Ross suddenly understood and glared at Chuck, now aware of his sister's determination to follow through on the traditional "third date" tonight.
In the past, he didn't mind, even encouraging his sister to be bold, but he really didn't like Chuck, and knowing about tonight's likely outcome made him very uncomfortable.
"Just a little wine to celebrate!"
Ross tried to intervene. "Monica, bring out the wine. It's Thanksgiving. We're adults now. What's wrong with a little drink?"
"Drink all you want. It's Thanksgiving. Give your right hand a break."
Chuck ate slowly and calmly.
"Pfft!"
Rachel and the others burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs despite the pain. "Ow, ow, I'm dying of laughter."
"I told you, he's got a wicked sense of humor,"
Chandler shrugged. "He uses the most deadpan expression to say the most outrageous things. 'Don't drink on Thanksgiving, give your right hand a holiday.' That line perfectly captures Ross's evening plans."
Ross turned red. Seeing everyone laughing and teasing while Chuck, the instigator, remained completely calm as if nothing had happened, Ross trembled with anger. He suddenly stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the floor.
Chuck frowned and looked over.
He hated loud, grating noises!
Ross was about to snap when he met Chuck's annoyed gaze. The memory of their first meeting—when Chuck had made that comment about precision shooting—flashed through his mind, and the words on his lips immediately became, "I'm... going to the bathroom."
With that, he went to the bathroom to collect himself and cool down.
A moment of silence fell.
Chuck continued eating unfazed, as did Joey. But while Chuck chewed his food slowly and methodically, Joey devoured it like he was in an eating contest.
"Hey, Rachel, your face looks so much better now,"
Phoebe said suddenly, pointing at the wound.
After receiving the ointment from Chuck, she had applied it and massaged the area. As a professional masseuse, she knew injuries like the back of her hand and could immediately see that Rachel was experiencing significant improvement.
"Now that you mention it, it really is better,"
Rachel realized, touching her face gently. "This is incredible."
"Chuck, do you have more of this?"
Phoebe asked hopefully. "Where did you get it? If I had this kind of ointment, I'd definitely get tons of repeat customers. My massage business would really take off."
"It's too expensive, and it's not mass-produced,"
Chuck shook his head.
The little money Phoebe earned from massages wasn't even a fraction of the price of that small tube of ointment. A business model like that wouldn't work. He couldn't possibly spend his research budget on Phoebe's massage supplies.
"How expensive are we talking?"
Rachel felt instantly pampered, as if a gentle, cooling sensation were flowing across her face, incredibly soothing.
She knew it was partly psychological—like the luxury brand effect.
But she just loved it.
"A specialty from a high-end pharmaceutical lab in Switzerland."
Chuck nodded.
"Wow!"
Rachel felt a mysterious healing power wash over her face, and her smile widened.
"Switzerland? I've only heard of Swiss chocolate and watches. Do they make medicine too?"
Joey, his mouth still full, immediately perked up at the topic.
There was nothing he could do about it—food and attractive topics were the only things that captured his attention.
"They're leaders in pharmaceuticals, but if an American mentioned this to them, they'd probably make the same smug expression you do and say, 'You're welcome,'"
Chuck said after a moment's thought.
"I bet someone's going to be saying that tonight."
Chandler looked at Monica and then at Chuck, speaking teasingly.
Monica: "..."
She really didn't know what expression to make.
(End of Chapter)
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