"Type of service, sir?"
"What kinds do you offer?"
"Well there's three. Full service, no service and bad service."
"What's the difference?"
"Full service is two hundred dollars additional."
"What about no service?"
"No service is complimentary."
"And bad service?"
"You get a 20% rebate."
"That's interesting. What does bad service include?"
"Basically, the stewardesses treat you like...um...faecal matter."
"Hmm..."
"So which service would you prefer, sir?"
"I'll take the bad service."
"Okay, that's done."
"Is there any way to make the ticket even cheaper?"
"Well, you can, by downgrading your options."
"That's good. What are the default options?"
"You've taken out service, so that leaves you with the in-flight movie, radio stations, headphones, blanket, beverages, food and baggage space."
"I would liked to have all those options removed."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Yes, I'm positive. I can deal with the movie and radio stations with my portable sight and sound device, headphones included. I won't need a blanket because I can bring my own..."
"There's an additional charge for that sir."
"You mean you there's a surcharge for bringing your own blanket?"
"That's correct sir."
"How much?"
"A dollar for a standard blanket. Extra for blankets with a higher thread count."
"What's the scale?"
"Five dollars for a blanket with a thread count between 200 and 400. For blankets with a thread count exceeding 400, the surcharge is ten dollars. So what's the thread count of your blanket sir?"
"It's just a regular blanket bought from a pasar malam."
"I'll make a tentative five dollar surcharge for now sir."
"Tentative?"
"Well, in the event that the stewardess responsible for blankets find that your blanket exceeds the declared thread count, the surcharge amount will be amended accordingly."
"Fine."
"Now, for the rest of the options which you have opted out. Beverages, food and baggage space. I would like to confirm that you want these options removed as well?"
"Yes. And what is the surcharge for each?"
"There's no surcharge for those sir."
"Good. Now are there any more options which I can opt out of?"
"There is one, but the airline strongly recommends that you retain it."
"Well, I can still choose not to have it if I want to, am I correct?"
"That's correct, sir."
"What is the option?"
"The washroom usage option."
"How much off if I opt out?"
"Another 30%, sir."
"That's awesome!"
"So, I confirm the removal of the washroom usage option."
"Yes, off with it!"
"Just out of curiosity sir, how do you plan to deal with not using the washroom throughout your flight to Toronto? The flight takes more than twenty hours."
"Well, where there's a will, there's a way."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."
"Plastic bags and styrofoam boxes."
"Oh."
"I take it that everything is in order? Is there anything you missed?"
"Everything looks...hold on...there's something here that might be of interest to you sir."
"What is it?"
"It's stated here that during the Your Airline Greens the Environment campaign period, any passenger who opts out of the washroom usage option is eligible for a further 15% discount if said passenger surrenders their excretory waste, whether in liquid, solid and/or semi-solid forms at the end of his or her flight."
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Thursday, June 10, 2010
"The Effin' Simians Made Me Fat" (Part 1)
Note: This is a kickass version of the PMR essay which was discussed in class recently.
Disclaimer: Please do not attempt to write in the following style lest you want to incur the wrath of your skool teechers.
"I know what you're thinking."
"Huh?"
"You're wondering how I became so fat, right?"
"Umm..."
"Do you really want to know?"
"Well, if you really wanna tell me, I'm all ears."
"Okay. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."
....................................................................
It all started when Bee Chee made this apparently casual remark one day. We were all sitting around in class doing nothing as usual. The June school holidays were just around the corner, and practically all the teachers had gone AWOL.
"Aleena, seems to me that you've gained some weight lately."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yeah. Your love handles have become rather...pronounced."
"Omg, is it that obvious?"
"Well, don't take my word for it. Check it out yourself in front of the mirror when you get home today."
Which was exactly what I did. I wasn't completely sure if it was merely what she said that was playing tricks with my mind or the fact that I was getting fat, but I definitely did not like what I saw in the mirror.
"I'm gonna start working out. Shed those extra inches. The holidays are upon us again. Perfect timing, " I reassured myself.
That same evening, I pestered my mother to take me shopping. Upon reaching Kinta City, I made a beeline for the sporting goods store. I had wanted to get the yellow with black stripes tracksuit a la the same one which Bruce Lee wore in "The Game of Death" and which was also worn by Uma Thurman in "Kill Bill". Alas, mom said no since the price was not right. In the end, I ended up getting the Special Edition Barbie tracksuit instead. Which was just as well. More bling for your buck, as they say.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual to go jogging in a nearby park. I put on my brand new tracksuit and was about to leave the house when I bumped into my mother as she was staggering towards the washroom. Both of us almost had a double acute myocardial infarction right there and then.
"WTF Aleena!!! It's effin' half past five in the effin' morning! Are you going to a disco?"
"Holy cow momma! I thought you were grandma back from the dead!"
"Hahaha nice one. You know how much we resemble each other. Especially when our hair's messed up like this. So where the F are you going dressed like this?"
"I'm going jogging. Don't you remember? You bought me a tracksuit last night."
"Oh right. Isn't that for your birthday party?"
"HUH? What birthday party? My birthday's in December. It's June now. Mom, are you sure you're alright? Have you started drinking again?"
"Heh heh, calm down, child. I'm just effin witcha. Alright go, go! Before it gets too hot to jog."
"But mom, you haven't answered my question. Have you been drinking again?"
"Just go okay. Remember to come back before your bus is here."
"What bus?"
"Your school bus, of course. Is there another bus?"
"But it's a Saturday."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah."
...to be continued
Disclaimer: Please do not attempt to write in the following style lest you want to incur the wrath of your skool teechers.
"I know what you're thinking."
"Huh?"
"You're wondering how I became so fat, right?"
"Umm..."
"Do you really want to know?"
"Well, if you really wanna tell me, I'm all ears."
"Okay. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."
....................................................................
It all started when Bee Chee made this apparently casual remark one day. We were all sitting around in class doing nothing as usual. The June school holidays were just around the corner, and practically all the teachers had gone AWOL.
"Aleena, seems to me that you've gained some weight lately."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yeah. Your love handles have become rather...pronounced."
"Omg, is it that obvious?"
"Well, don't take my word for it. Check it out yourself in front of the mirror when you get home today."
Which was exactly what I did. I wasn't completely sure if it was merely what she said that was playing tricks with my mind or the fact that I was getting fat, but I definitely did not like what I saw in the mirror.
"I'm gonna start working out. Shed those extra inches. The holidays are upon us again. Perfect timing, " I reassured myself.
That same evening, I pestered my mother to take me shopping. Upon reaching Kinta City, I made a beeline for the sporting goods store. I had wanted to get the yellow with black stripes tracksuit a la the same one which Bruce Lee wore in "The Game of Death" and which was also worn by Uma Thurman in "Kill Bill". Alas, mom said no since the price was not right. In the end, I ended up getting the Special Edition Barbie tracksuit instead. Which was just as well. More bling for your buck, as they say.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual to go jogging in a nearby park. I put on my brand new tracksuit and was about to leave the house when I bumped into my mother as she was staggering towards the washroom. Both of us almost had a double acute myocardial infarction right there and then.
"WTF Aleena!!! It's effin' half past five in the effin' morning! Are you going to a disco?"
"Holy cow momma! I thought you were grandma back from the dead!"
"Hahaha nice one. You know how much we resemble each other. Especially when our hair's messed up like this. So where the F are you going dressed like this?"
"I'm going jogging. Don't you remember? You bought me a tracksuit last night."
"Oh right. Isn't that for your birthday party?"
"HUH? What birthday party? My birthday's in December. It's June now. Mom, are you sure you're alright? Have you started drinking again?"
"Heh heh, calm down, child. I'm just effin witcha. Alright go, go! Before it gets too hot to jog."
"But mom, you haven't answered my question. Have you been drinking again?"
"Just go okay. Remember to come back before your bus is here."
"What bus?"
"Your school bus, of course. Is there another bus?"
"But it's a Saturday."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah."
...to be continued
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Saved from a watery grave
Note: This is a kickass version of the PMR essay which was discussed in class recently.
Disclaimer: Please do not attempt to write in the following style lest you want to incur the wrath of your skool teechers.
Mr Aimahiro is a retired swimming instructor. He resides near the polluted Kinta River. In the evenings, he enjoys reading old newspapers by the river because of the reassuring smell of noxious fumes from a nearby highway.
One evening, Mr Aimahiro was reading his old newspapers by the river as usual. He was reading an article about how a group of delinquent students broke into an ice-cream parlour when he noticed several children prancing around near the riverbank. The playful children were gleefully chasing after each other and running about as if their shorts were on fire. Mr Aimahiro shook his head disdainfully and resumed reading the article.
All of a sudden, the wet sound of a big splash interrupted Encik Halotano's reading once more. The moment Mr Aimahiro looked up from the newspaper, he was aghast to see a dumb kid thrashing in the foul and muddy waters of the river.
"Aha! Serves you right, you dumbo kiddo!" Mr Aimahiro thought to himself.
The diabolical Mr Aimahiro waited for the child to drink several mouthfuls of gritty river water before jumping into the river. And it was during that split-second right before Mr Aimahiro's obese body hit the water that he realised how he had completely forgotten how to swim...
...........................
"Why did you jump into the river?"
"To save the poor child from a watery grave."
"And?"
"And I suddenly realised that I had completely forgotten how to swim."
"Do you see the black-eyed angels swimming with you?"*
"Yes."
"And a moon full of stars and astral cars?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where you are?"
"No, I don't."
"Do you know who you're talking to?"
"No."
And thus Hades decreed that Mr Aimahiro was a buffoon whose time in the afterlife has yet to come.
When Mr Aimahiro came to, he was surrounded by the children. The children towered over him. For a moment, he thought he was Lemuel Gulliver in Brobdingnag.
"What? Where? Why? Whose? Which? When? How?"
"You're safe, mister."
"Huh?"
"You tried to save Bee Seng, and you almost drowned. Bee Seng saved you."
"Huh?"
"We were practising. We're really, very sorry for what happened."
"Huh?"
"We're all junior state swimmers. We have a competition coming up. That was why."
"Huh?"
Epilogue:
If you have been an attentive reader, you might just have noticed that something is not quite right with this story. Well, you're most likely referring to the part where the kid was "thrashing in the foul and muddy waters of the river."
Now, why would the child be "thrashing" if they were only practising?
To this, there are several possible answers.
Perhaps the kids wanted to make it more real by doing so. They were probably doing a rescue-type mission.
Or, perhaps the kid was lying. Who knows? Kids lie all the time, right? You're a kid, you should know.
Or maybe Mr Aimahiro is in fact, still struggling in the water, and he is hallucinating. Don't know what "hallucinating" means? Look it up in the dictionary.
*Some parts of the conversation were appropriated from the lyrics of "The Pyramid Song" performed by Radiohead.
Disclaimer: Please do not attempt to write in the following style lest you want to incur the wrath of your skool teechers.
Mr Aimahiro is a retired swimming instructor. He resides near the polluted Kinta River. In the evenings, he enjoys reading old newspapers by the river because of the reassuring smell of noxious fumes from a nearby highway.
One evening, Mr Aimahiro was reading his old newspapers by the river as usual. He was reading an article about how a group of delinquent students broke into an ice-cream parlour when he noticed several children prancing around near the riverbank. The playful children were gleefully chasing after each other and running about as if their shorts were on fire. Mr Aimahiro shook his head disdainfully and resumed reading the article.
All of a sudden, the wet sound of a big splash interrupted Encik Halotano's reading once more. The moment Mr Aimahiro looked up from the newspaper, he was aghast to see a dumb kid thrashing in the foul and muddy waters of the river.
"Aha! Serves you right, you dumbo kiddo!" Mr Aimahiro thought to himself.
The diabolical Mr Aimahiro waited for the child to drink several mouthfuls of gritty river water before jumping into the river. And it was during that split-second right before Mr Aimahiro's obese body hit the water that he realised how he had completely forgotten how to swim...
...........................
"Why did you jump into the river?"
"To save the poor child from a watery grave."
"And?"
"And I suddenly realised that I had completely forgotten how to swim."
"Do you see the black-eyed angels swimming with you?"*
"Yes."
"And a moon full of stars and astral cars?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where you are?"
"No, I don't."
"Do you know who you're talking to?"
"No."
And thus Hades decreed that Mr Aimahiro was a buffoon whose time in the afterlife has yet to come.
When Mr Aimahiro came to, he was surrounded by the children. The children towered over him. For a moment, he thought he was Lemuel Gulliver in Brobdingnag.
"What? Where? Why? Whose? Which? When? How?"
"You're safe, mister."
"Huh?"
"You tried to save Bee Seng, and you almost drowned. Bee Seng saved you."
"Huh?"
"We were practising. We're really, very sorry for what happened."
"Huh?"
"We're all junior state swimmers. We have a competition coming up. That was why."
"Huh?"
Epilogue:
If you have been an attentive reader, you might just have noticed that something is not quite right with this story. Well, you're most likely referring to the part where the kid was "thrashing in the foul and muddy waters of the river."
Now, why would the child be "thrashing" if they were only practising?
To this, there are several possible answers.
Perhaps the kids wanted to make it more real by doing so. They were probably doing a rescue-type mission.
Or, perhaps the kid was lying. Who knows? Kids lie all the time, right? You're a kid, you should know.
Or maybe Mr Aimahiro is in fact, still struggling in the water, and he is hallucinating. Don't know what "hallucinating" means? Look it up in the dictionary.
*Some parts of the conversation were appropriated from the lyrics of "The Pyramid Song" performed by Radiohead.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
The Man Who Was Lying By The Roadside
When I was on my way home from work this afternoon, I saw a man lying by the roadside. Curiosity got the better of me so I pulled over, stopped the engine and stepped out of the car. As I walked towards the man, he was still lying.
"THE SKY IS GREEN!"
It was absolutely mind-goggling.
"THE EARTH IS TRIANGULAR!"
Ever since the day I began my career as a tutor, I have come across this enigmatic character countless times.
The man who was lying by the roadside.
Sometimes he appears in a student's essay, but more often, he appears in reference books. Hence I have spent many sleepless nights wondering what it would be like to meet this "man who was lying by the roadside" face-to-face. And so this afternoon, there I was, with the man who was lying beside the roadside standing right in front of me. He was ranting on and on.
"MALES GIVE BIRTH TO BABIES!"
I wanted to get a word in, so I shouted at him.
"Hey, what's up with you man?"
Instead of dignifying my question, he continued lying.
"THE MALAYSIAN EDUCATION SYSTEM ROCKS!"
"MALAYSIA HAS THE CHEAPEST PRICES FOR IMPORTED CARS!"
"THE ROADS ON MALAYSIAN ROADS ARE THE BEST IN THE WORLD!"
I tried my best to maintain my composure, but I couldn't. As I pushed the key into the ignition, I burst into tears and sped away, leaving the man who was lying by the roadside in a cloud of dust. I mean, how could he be such a bloody liar?
"THE SKY IS GREEN!"
It was absolutely mind-goggling.
"THE EARTH IS TRIANGULAR!"
Ever since the day I began my career as a tutor, I have come across this enigmatic character countless times.
The man who was lying by the roadside.
Sometimes he appears in a student's essay, but more often, he appears in reference books. Hence I have spent many sleepless nights wondering what it would be like to meet this "man who was lying by the roadside" face-to-face. And so this afternoon, there I was, with the man who was lying beside the roadside standing right in front of me. He was ranting on and on.
"MALES GIVE BIRTH TO BABIES!"
I wanted to get a word in, so I shouted at him.
"Hey, what's up with you man?"
Instead of dignifying my question, he continued lying.
"THE MALAYSIAN EDUCATION SYSTEM ROCKS!"
"MALAYSIA HAS THE CHEAPEST PRICES FOR IMPORTED CARS!"
"THE ROADS ON MALAYSIAN ROADS ARE THE BEST IN THE WORLD!"
I tried my best to maintain my composure, but I couldn't. As I pushed the key into the ignition, I burst into tears and sped away, leaving the man who was lying by the roadside in a cloud of dust. I mean, how could he be such a bloody liar?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A Violent Moral Tale
One day, Arun was on his way home from school when he saw his schoolmate, Hamid, cycling with some friends. Hamid was a rather notorious character in school and was a source of terror for his smaller, weaker schoolmates because he loved bullying them, especially by robbing them of their lunch money and pouring hot curry into their underwear. The truth was, Arun was one of Hamid's regular victims. Just the day before, Hamid tied Arun's shoelaces together. Needless to say, Arun fell flat on his face when he stood up and started to walk. So it was everybody's guess that Arun wanted nothing more than to see Hamid get his just desserts.
As Hamid and his ruffian friends cycled past, Arun overheard Hamid challenging his friends to a race. Before his friends could react, Hamid started pedalling like a crazy mouse on a wheel. He shot ahead and disappeared into a corner before his friends could utter, "3825, that was fast!"
After Hamid turned a sharp corner, he stopped his bicycle in the middle of the road and turned around to see if his friends were catching up. When he saw that they were still lagging way behind, he tilted his head back and laughed at the sky thinking, "There's no way in hell that you fools will ever catch up!"
Just then, a red, shiny Porsche appeared behind Hamid, who was still laughing out loud to himself. The sports car tooted its horn, but it was too late. The German-made performance vehicle knocked Hamid down and hence, poor Hamid was toast. He became trapped under the car and was dragged for several metres before the driver finally stopped his car, leaving a glistening trail of scarlet on the road.
Arun saw everything. Hamid's friends ran over to his aid, but to be honest, there was nothing much that they could do. After all, several feet of Hamid's intestines were all over the road. Arun thought he saw his pancreas too but he wasn't sure. "I think I'd better do some revision on my Science tonight," he thought to himself.
After waiting for several minutes, Arun finally made his way to a nearby telephone booth to call an ambulance. Then he took his sweet time walking over to where the dying Hamid lay, surrounded by his friends who were vomiting everywhere. As Arun got closer, he thought he could detect a faint smell of shit in the air. This was confirmed when he saw Hamid soiling himself uncontrollably.
Thirty minutes later, an ambulance arrived. When the ambulance driver saw Hamid lying in a pool of his own blood, urine and faeces, he muttered, "Guys, for this kind of job, you don't need an ambulance. You call a hearse!"
"Please la uncle, he's our friend!" *vomits*
"But he's almost gone! Furthermore, my ambulance will stink!" *belches*
"Please la uncle, have a heart!" *vomits*
"Okay okay, let me cover the ambulance with some plastic sheets first." *farts*
Minutes later, they bundled Hamid into the back of the ambulance. As they were about to drive off, Arun noticed that they had left several pieces of Hamid's brain behind.
"Hey! You forgot these!"
So kids, the moral of this story is: Don't cycle around like you own the road. Always be careful and keep your eyes open for any incoming vehicles. If you don't, you are toast.
As Hamid and his ruffian friends cycled past, Arun overheard Hamid challenging his friends to a race. Before his friends could react, Hamid started pedalling like a crazy mouse on a wheel. He shot ahead and disappeared into a corner before his friends could utter, "3825, that was fast!"
After Hamid turned a sharp corner, he stopped his bicycle in the middle of the road and turned around to see if his friends were catching up. When he saw that they were still lagging way behind, he tilted his head back and laughed at the sky thinking, "There's no way in hell that you fools will ever catch up!"
Just then, a red, shiny Porsche appeared behind Hamid, who was still laughing out loud to himself. The sports car tooted its horn, but it was too late. The German-made performance vehicle knocked Hamid down and hence, poor Hamid was toast. He became trapped under the car and was dragged for several metres before the driver finally stopped his car, leaving a glistening trail of scarlet on the road.
Arun saw everything. Hamid's friends ran over to his aid, but to be honest, there was nothing much that they could do. After all, several feet of Hamid's intestines were all over the road. Arun thought he saw his pancreas too but he wasn't sure. "I think I'd better do some revision on my Science tonight," he thought to himself.
After waiting for several minutes, Arun finally made his way to a nearby telephone booth to call an ambulance. Then he took his sweet time walking over to where the dying Hamid lay, surrounded by his friends who were vomiting everywhere. As Arun got closer, he thought he could detect a faint smell of shit in the air. This was confirmed when he saw Hamid soiling himself uncontrollably.
Thirty minutes later, an ambulance arrived. When the ambulance driver saw Hamid lying in a pool of his own blood, urine and faeces, he muttered, "Guys, for this kind of job, you don't need an ambulance. You call a hearse!"
"Please la uncle, he's our friend!" *vomits*
"But he's almost gone! Furthermore, my ambulance will stink!" *belches*
"Please la uncle, have a heart!" *vomits*
"Okay okay, let me cover the ambulance with some plastic sheets first." *farts*
Minutes later, they bundled Hamid into the back of the ambulance. As they were about to drive off, Arun noticed that they had left several pieces of Hamid's brain behind.
"Hey! You forgot these!"
So kids, the moral of this story is: Don't cycle around like you own the road. Always be careful and keep your eyes open for any incoming vehicles. If you don't, you are toast.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Never Judge A Man By The Vehicle That He Operates
Part One
One day, Johan and his family were travelling to his cousin's house to attend a wedding. On the way, they overtook a bullock cart. As they were passing, Johan and his sister made faces at the man on the bullock cart. However, the man did not become livid nor did he shake his fist at them in damning anger. Instead, he smiled and flashed his wicked grill at them.
All of a sudden, Johan and his family heard a loud bang.
"Who farted?!" Johan's father exclaimed.
Everyone stayed silent and pretended to be enjoying the scenery.
"POPFFFFFFFFFFF!"
"Who---" Before Johan's father could finish the sentence, he panicked and lost control of their Proton Persona.
"3825!!! We're all going to DIEEEEEEEEE...!!!" they yelled in unison.
Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt. Johan's mother only cracked her head on the windscreen and his father vomited blood when the steering punched into his belly while one of Johan's sister's eardrums was punctured by a flying pencil. Miraculously, Johan was the only one who escaped with barely a scratch. Only a small piece of his tahi hidung (booger) flew out when his father crashed into a ditch. Minutes later, everyone staggered out of the car like zombies. Needless to say, they were very disappointed to see that one of the car tyres was punctured. Johan turned to his sister with an accusing finger.
"See, I told you not to throw those 3825ers out of the window. Look what you have done, you nitwit!"
"Huh?? Huh??? Huh???? What did you say?? What???"
"Never mind."
To continue the journey, they must replace the tyre. However, when Johan's father opened the car boot, everyone was disappointed to see that he had forgotten to bring the necessary tools.
"3825!!!" he muttered under his breath before vomiting the rest of his lunch onto his shoes.
Given the situation, they had no choice but to wait for help.
........................
Part Two
Several minutes later, the bullock cart finally caught up with Johan's family. When the man offered them a ride, they immediately accepted. Johan and his sister were not ashamed that they had made faces at the man earlier. In fact, they wished they had thrown some rotten vegetables at him. His body odour was so overpowering that Johan started hallucinating...
The hot afternoon soon gave way to a cloudy evening, and soon, night was approaching. Everyone else was asleep except for Johan, the man and the two cows. As the bullock cart took its sweet time taking them towards wherever it was taking them, Johan observed the back of the man's head. Something did not seem right about the shape of the man's head. It was too round, and the hair was too slick and shiny.
"Oi!" Johan shouted insolently.
The man did not turn around. Instead, he just kept on doing what he was doing. Being a wannabe samseng, Johan did not like to be ignored. So he tried again, with more force in his voice this time.
"OI APEK!!!"
But the man did not turn around. He just kept on driving the bullock cart. Johan was getting rather incensed at this point and was about to get up when he realised for the first time that he was alone in the bullock cart. As he wondered where his parents and sister had gone, the bullock cart stopped. Johan felt his insides turn into water. The silence of the night was broken only by the shameful sounds of his watery farts. He was, literally, shitting his pants.
The man slowly turned his head to face Johan. Johan tried to scream but no sound issued from the hole that was his mouth. See, while the man was turning his head, only his head was turning. His body remained in the same position. A witty thought came into Johan's mind but he had trouble enunciating the words. He wanted to say, "That's some amazing special FX," but what came out was: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
..............................
Part Three
Johan awoke with a start. He soon realised that it was merely a bad dream. He was rubbing his eyes when he realised that they were passing a cemetery. He thought this was fascinating and was about to wake his sister up when he noticed that there were two tiny holes in her neck. Two drops of blood trickled silently from them as she stirred in her sleep and made some yum-yum sounds. Something is not right, Johan thought to himself. I think I will go back to sleep.
One day, Johan and his family were travelling to his cousin's house to attend a wedding. On the way, they overtook a bullock cart. As they were passing, Johan and his sister made faces at the man on the bullock cart. However, the man did not become livid nor did he shake his fist at them in damning anger. Instead, he smiled and flashed his wicked grill at them.
All of a sudden, Johan and his family heard a loud bang.
"Who farted?!" Johan's father exclaimed.
Everyone stayed silent and pretended to be enjoying the scenery.
"POPFFFFFFFFFFF!"
"Who---" Before Johan's father could finish the sentence, he panicked and lost control of their Proton Persona.
"3825!!! We're all going to DIEEEEEEEEE...!!!" they yelled in unison.
Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt. Johan's mother only cracked her head on the windscreen and his father vomited blood when the steering punched into his belly while one of Johan's sister's eardrums was punctured by a flying pencil. Miraculously, Johan was the only one who escaped with barely a scratch. Only a small piece of his tahi hidung (booger) flew out when his father crashed into a ditch. Minutes later, everyone staggered out of the car like zombies. Needless to say, they were very disappointed to see that one of the car tyres was punctured. Johan turned to his sister with an accusing finger.
"See, I told you not to throw those 3825ers out of the window. Look what you have done, you nitwit!"
"Huh?? Huh??? Huh???? What did you say?? What???"
"Never mind."
To continue the journey, they must replace the tyre. However, when Johan's father opened the car boot, everyone was disappointed to see that he had forgotten to bring the necessary tools.
"3825!!!" he muttered under his breath before vomiting the rest of his lunch onto his shoes.
Given the situation, they had no choice but to wait for help.
........................
Part Two
Several minutes later, the bullock cart finally caught up with Johan's family. When the man offered them a ride, they immediately accepted. Johan and his sister were not ashamed that they had made faces at the man earlier. In fact, they wished they had thrown some rotten vegetables at him. His body odour was so overpowering that Johan started hallucinating...
The hot afternoon soon gave way to a cloudy evening, and soon, night was approaching. Everyone else was asleep except for Johan, the man and the two cows. As the bullock cart took its sweet time taking them towards wherever it was taking them, Johan observed the back of the man's head. Something did not seem right about the shape of the man's head. It was too round, and the hair was too slick and shiny.
"Oi!" Johan shouted insolently.
The man did not turn around. Instead, he just kept on doing what he was doing. Being a wannabe samseng, Johan did not like to be ignored. So he tried again, with more force in his voice this time.
"OI APEK!!!"
But the man did not turn around. He just kept on driving the bullock cart. Johan was getting rather incensed at this point and was about to get up when he realised for the first time that he was alone in the bullock cart. As he wondered where his parents and sister had gone, the bullock cart stopped. Johan felt his insides turn into water. The silence of the night was broken only by the shameful sounds of his watery farts. He was, literally, shitting his pants.
The man slowly turned his head to face Johan. Johan tried to scream but no sound issued from the hole that was his mouth. See, while the man was turning his head, only his head was turning. His body remained in the same position. A witty thought came into Johan's mind but he had trouble enunciating the words. He wanted to say, "That's some amazing special FX," but what came out was: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
..............................
Part Three
Johan awoke with a start. He soon realised that it was merely a bad dream. He was rubbing his eyes when he realised that they were passing a cemetery. He thought this was fascinating and was about to wake his sister up when he noticed that there were two tiny holes in her neck. Two drops of blood trickled silently from them as she stirred in her sleep and made some yum-yum sounds. Something is not right, Johan thought to himself. I think I will go back to sleep.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
The Box That Killed Air Soles
It's really quite amazing what I can find when I'm roaming the streets of Ipoh looking for plastic bottles and cardboard boxes to recycle for cash. I was rummaging through a large pile of rubbish in the rain when I found a note written on a piece of curry-stained A4 paper. Allow me to present its cryptic contents to you.
To whomever who is unlucky enough to find this,
I beg you to ignore this. It's not as simple as you think. We do not truly know who we are. Would you feel the same if you found a box that could kill all the flies in the world? Well, maybe you would. And that's because you're not a fly. But imagine if a fly found the box. Do you think the fly would press the button? Do you think the fly would still press the button if the fly were aware of the fact that it is a fly? Because once the button is pressed, every single fly in the world will die. And that would include the fly that pressed the button.
That's pretty weird. Maybe it was written by a drug addict. Or one of Dun Wan Lern's friends. For all I know, Dun Wan Lern wrote it. I was about to chuck the note away when I noticed something else. Right beside some empty Guinness Stout bottles was this box that seemed to be calling out to me. It was as if the box was sending a direct signal to my brain. It said: "Hold me, touch me and check me out, bay bee." And so I did. The message was so strong that I simply couldn't resist.
I got hold of the box. It looked just like any other cardboard box. The only obvious difference was that it felt heavier. On the top flap were written the words "Pray Hard If Ye Be An Air Sole" and a large asterisk (*). I haven't the faintest idea what the words meant. Who or what is an AIR SOLE? And that large asterisk --- which looked like a huge star --- made me scratch my head even more. I was stumped. I decided to lift the flap.
Imagine my surprise when I found another box inside the box. And another. And then another. It was ridiculous. There I was, squatting under the pouring rain with this phony Chinese box. If it was a Matryoshka doll, I could've sold it to someone for 20 sen, but nobody wanted a Chinese box made out of cardboard. At that point, all I wanted to do was to stomp on the boxes until they became as flat as roti canai.
And then I saw it.
Right in the middle of the smallest box was this red button that looked like Rudolph's nose, but smaller. It also reminded me of a gorilla's nipple, but smaller. There were some words written above the button but it was too tiny so I pulled out my magnifying glass and held it close to the tiny words. It said: "Prez Da Barten Yeef Yuh Wan 2 Keel All Dee Air Soles In Dis Werld." Needless to say, I was crushed. It was written in Benglish, and I failed my Benglish. All I could make out was "Yuh", which meant "you." I looked up at the sky and screamed at the rain clouds.
"WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEE? WHYYYYYYYYYYY???????? I AM FORTUNE'S FOOOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Blinded with rage, I flung the box against the wall and walked away from the rubbish dump. Later that night, I was sitting in a mamak stall watching some free tv and drinking an ais kosong when I overheard this conversation between these two rich-looking old geezers who were smoking cigars. When an adorable black and white kitten walked past, one of them intentionally stepped on the poor kitten's tail. As the poor kitten ran away mewling its head off while leaving a trail of cat poo on the five-foot-way, the wicked old men laughed as if they had just won the lottery.
Old Geezer #1: Hey, so did they find the box yet?
Old Geezer #2: Not yet.
Old Geezer #1: That's bad. Very bad.
Old Geezer #2: I know. But what can we do? It has been raining every day.
Old Geezer #1: Do you think we should pay them more?
Old Geezer #2: Aiyah, no point in doing that. They don't like working with rubbish when it's raining. They don't like to get their hands dirty.
Old Geezer #1: Maybe we should find someone else. What do you think?
Old Geezer #2: Who do you have in mind?
Old Geezer #1: Ape Yoghurt.
Old Geezer #2: Isn't she taking her Masters now?
Old Geezer #1: I don't think she has a choice. She owes me a few favours.
Old Geezer #2: Then we'd better get in touch with her ASAP.
Old Geezer #1: I'll call Monkey Butt.
Old Geezer #2: And don't forget Sam Seng.
Old Geezer #1: That Doctor Cess was a real fool. I mean how could he not know that he himself was an air sole?
Old Geezer #2: Yeah, he should've consulted us before he pressed the bloody button. If he had done that, he would be here with us tonight, smoking a fine Monte Cristo while drinking a hot glass of teh tarik halia and farting non-stop.
Old Geezer #1: It would've saved us a lot of trouble too. And now the box is lying somewhere while air soles continue to be born every minute. We must find the box ASAP and rid the world of air soles, once and for all.
.................................................................................
I had an epiphany, and finally understood everything. As I walked up to them, the two old geezers instinctively shrank away from me. After all, I smelled like all the baths that I hadn't taken for two months. I slowly raised my right hand, pointed at them both and said, "THE BOTH OF YOU ARE AIR SOLES. WHEN THEY FIND THE BOX, YOU'RE THE NEXT IN LINE TO GO." Then I laughed, the way I haven't laughed, for a very long time.
To whomever who is unlucky enough to find this,
I beg you to ignore this. It's not as simple as you think. We do not truly know who we are. Would you feel the same if you found a box that could kill all the flies in the world? Well, maybe you would. And that's because you're not a fly. But imagine if a fly found the box. Do you think the fly would press the button? Do you think the fly would still press the button if the fly were aware of the fact that it is a fly? Because once the button is pressed, every single fly in the world will die. And that would include the fly that pressed the button.
That's pretty weird. Maybe it was written by a drug addict. Or one of Dun Wan Lern's friends. For all I know, Dun Wan Lern wrote it. I was about to chuck the note away when I noticed something else. Right beside some empty Guinness Stout bottles was this box that seemed to be calling out to me. It was as if the box was sending a direct signal to my brain. It said: "Hold me, touch me and check me out, bay bee." And so I did. The message was so strong that I simply couldn't resist.
I got hold of the box. It looked just like any other cardboard box. The only obvious difference was that it felt heavier. On the top flap were written the words "Pray Hard If Ye Be An Air Sole" and a large asterisk (*). I haven't the faintest idea what the words meant. Who or what is an AIR SOLE? And that large asterisk --- which looked like a huge star --- made me scratch my head even more. I was stumped. I decided to lift the flap.
Imagine my surprise when I found another box inside the box. And another. And then another. It was ridiculous. There I was, squatting under the pouring rain with this phony Chinese box. If it was a Matryoshka doll, I could've sold it to someone for 20 sen, but nobody wanted a Chinese box made out of cardboard. At that point, all I wanted to do was to stomp on the boxes until they became as flat as roti canai.
And then I saw it.
Right in the middle of the smallest box was this red button that looked like Rudolph's nose, but smaller. It also reminded me of a gorilla's nipple, but smaller. There were some words written above the button but it was too tiny so I pulled out my magnifying glass and held it close to the tiny words. It said: "Prez Da Barten Yeef Yuh Wan 2 Keel All Dee Air Soles In Dis Werld." Needless to say, I was crushed. It was written in Benglish, and I failed my Benglish. All I could make out was "Yuh", which meant "you." I looked up at the sky and screamed at the rain clouds.
"WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEE? WHYYYYYYYYYYY???????? I AM FORTUNE'S FOOOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Blinded with rage, I flung the box against the wall and walked away from the rubbish dump. Later that night, I was sitting in a mamak stall watching some free tv and drinking an ais kosong when I overheard this conversation between these two rich-looking old geezers who were smoking cigars. When an adorable black and white kitten walked past, one of them intentionally stepped on the poor kitten's tail. As the poor kitten ran away mewling its head off while leaving a trail of cat poo on the five-foot-way, the wicked old men laughed as if they had just won the lottery.
Old Geezer #1: Hey, so did they find the box yet?
Old Geezer #2: Not yet.
Old Geezer #1: That's bad. Very bad.
Old Geezer #2: I know. But what can we do? It has been raining every day.
Old Geezer #1: Do you think we should pay them more?
Old Geezer #2: Aiyah, no point in doing that. They don't like working with rubbish when it's raining. They don't like to get their hands dirty.
Old Geezer #1: Maybe we should find someone else. What do you think?
Old Geezer #2: Who do you have in mind?
Old Geezer #1: Ape Yoghurt.
Old Geezer #2: Isn't she taking her Masters now?
Old Geezer #1: I don't think she has a choice. She owes me a few favours.
Old Geezer #2: Then we'd better get in touch with her ASAP.
Old Geezer #1: I'll call Monkey Butt.
Old Geezer #2: And don't forget Sam Seng.
Old Geezer #1: That Doctor Cess was a real fool. I mean how could he not know that he himself was an air sole?
Old Geezer #2: Yeah, he should've consulted us before he pressed the bloody button. If he had done that, he would be here with us tonight, smoking a fine Monte Cristo while drinking a hot glass of teh tarik halia and farting non-stop.
Old Geezer #1: It would've saved us a lot of trouble too. And now the box is lying somewhere while air soles continue to be born every minute. We must find the box ASAP and rid the world of air soles, once and for all.
.................................................................................
I had an epiphany, and finally understood everything. As I walked up to them, the two old geezers instinctively shrank away from me. After all, I smelled like all the baths that I hadn't taken for two months. I slowly raised my right hand, pointed at them both and said, "THE BOTH OF YOU ARE AIR SOLES. WHEN THEY FIND THE BOX, YOU'RE THE NEXT IN LINE TO GO." Then I laughed, the way I haven't laughed, for a very long time.
Friday, July 27, 2007
The Raid (Part 2)
As the men made their way up the tuition centre, I noticed with amusement that three teachers have quietly escaped through a back door and were now climbing over a fence. One of the them was rather portly, and as he struggled to clear the fence, he became stuck. Instead of helping him, the other two just left him there. I thought it was rather funny and giggled.
Meanwhile, there were some shouts and screams up on the first floor of the tuition centre. Moments later, a dozen primary school students ranging from eight to twelve were led out of the centre. Some of them were crying and sniffling, asking for their mommies. They were made to line up against a wall. Then one of the men called out the children's names one by one.
"Tai Choon Toy!"
"Chang Ching Chong!"
"Huat Yew Min!"
"Abu bin Api!"
"Low See Fun!"
"Lawrence Teoh!"
"Kupukupusamy a/l Ramarama!"
"Dylan Wong!"
"Chow Chee Wai!"
"Dun Wan Lern!"
"Sukasuka Kunjitaro!"
"Balan Singh!"
Out of the blue, I heard the sound of running water. I looked up. It was bright and sunny with nary a rain cloud in sight. There must be some mistake. Then I heard a shout.
"Dylan Wong!!!"
I took a closer look and saw Dylan, this scrawny kid with a PokeMeMan tee shirt, crying. He was so good at crying I almost shed a tear myself while looking at him.
"I WAN MAI MAMMMIIIIII....I WAN MAI MAMMIIIIII......!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Oi, apa dia cakap la?! Apa dia mau??"
"Lia kata ah, lia mau lia munya amak oh..."
"Ape??? Dia nak emak???"
"Ehhh #@%$*& betul la budak ni! Kencing lagi pulak!!! Betul-betul #$%@#&* la!!!"
So it turned out that this Dylan Wong was wetting his pants from all the ensuing tension of the raid. The men continued their discussion. Soon, the two men dressed in suits joined them.
"Cam ne skarang?"
"Takde choice, I rasa the best thing is to call his parents..."
"Oke. Check depe punya student record."
"Ya tak ya juga...okay...Dy...lan...Wong...ha! 0167-3425-3425..."
He pulled out a satellite phone and started dialling.
"Ah, hallo...yes, dis is...(er, cam ne nak cakap ya...?)"
"Ish...kata je la, you calling dari Pusat Tuisyen Belajar Banyak..."
"...ah yes, dis is calling from Pusat Tuisyen Belayar Banjak...ah, you punya anak ah...Dylan Wong...dia tak sihat, puan bole datang kemari? Okay...thank you you, see you..."
A minute later, a woman who was presumably Dylan's mother, arrived at the centre. When she saw that her son was crying while standing in a pool of urine, she practically flipped.
"APA YOU BUAT DINGAN ANAK SAYA AH???"
"Er puan, kami..."
"APA KAMI KAMI??? LU TENGOK DIA MANYAK TAKUT SAMA YOU..."
He tried to explain further, but before he could get a word in, she gave him a tight slap across the face.
"SAYA BRITAU YOU AH, YOU JANGAN INGAT YOU BESAR, WA REPORT POLIS NANTI LU TAU!!!"
"Tapi..."
She ignored him and promptly dragged Dylan away. As they walked away, I thought I saw something brown trickling down the poor boy's legs. Seeing this made me want to visit the toilet, so I quickly made my exit and continued my journey home.
Meanwhile, there were some shouts and screams up on the first floor of the tuition centre. Moments later, a dozen primary school students ranging from eight to twelve were led out of the centre. Some of them were crying and sniffling, asking for their mommies. They were made to line up against a wall. Then one of the men called out the children's names one by one.
"Tai Choon Toy!"
"Chang Ching Chong!"
"Huat Yew Min!"
"Abu bin Api!"
"Low See Fun!"
"Lawrence Teoh!"
"Kupukupusamy a/l Ramarama!"
"Dylan Wong!"
"Chow Chee Wai!"
"Dun Wan Lern!"
"Sukasuka Kunjitaro!"
"Balan Singh!"
Out of the blue, I heard the sound of running water. I looked up. It was bright and sunny with nary a rain cloud in sight. There must be some mistake. Then I heard a shout.
"Dylan Wong!!!"
I took a closer look and saw Dylan, this scrawny kid with a PokeMeMan tee shirt, crying. He was so good at crying I almost shed a tear myself while looking at him.
"I WAN MAI MAMMMIIIIII....I WAN MAI MAMMIIIIII......!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Oi, apa dia cakap la?! Apa dia mau??"
"Lia kata ah, lia mau lia munya amak oh..."
"Ape??? Dia nak emak???"
"Ehhh #@%$*& betul la budak ni! Kencing lagi pulak!!! Betul-betul #$%@#&* la!!!"
So it turned out that this Dylan Wong was wetting his pants from all the ensuing tension of the raid. The men continued their discussion. Soon, the two men dressed in suits joined them.
"Cam ne skarang?"
"Takde choice, I rasa the best thing is to call his parents..."
"Oke. Check depe punya student record."
"Ya tak ya juga...okay...Dy...lan...Wong...ha! 0167-3425-3425..."
He pulled out a satellite phone and started dialling.
"Ah, hallo...yes, dis is...(er, cam ne nak cakap ya...?)"
"Ish...kata je la, you calling dari Pusat Tuisyen Belajar Banyak..."
"...ah yes, dis is calling from Pusat Tuisyen Belayar Banjak...ah, you punya anak ah...Dylan Wong...dia tak sihat, puan bole datang kemari? Okay...thank you you, see you..."
A minute later, a woman who was presumably Dylan's mother, arrived at the centre. When she saw that her son was crying while standing in a pool of urine, she practically flipped.
"APA YOU BUAT DINGAN ANAK SAYA AH???"
"Er puan, kami..."
"APA KAMI KAMI??? LU TENGOK DIA MANYAK TAKUT SAMA YOU..."
He tried to explain further, but before he could get a word in, she gave him a tight slap across the face.
"SAYA BRITAU YOU AH, YOU JANGAN INGAT YOU BESAR, WA REPORT POLIS NANTI LU TAU!!!"
"Tapi..."
She ignored him and promptly dragged Dylan away. As they walked away, I thought I saw something brown trickling down the poor boy's legs. Seeing this made me want to visit the toilet, so I quickly made my exit and continued my journey home.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
The Raid (Part 1)
One day, I was on my way home from school when I passed by a tuition centre. In case you were wondering, I was not going to tuition. This was because I was going home. Anyway, I saw something rather strange as I was walking by the tuition centre. A large military truck was parked in front of the tuition centre. Several intense-looking men were standing beside the truck, and one of them was talking into a walkie-talkie. The rest of them were checking their weapons. Each of them was armed with a Heckler & Koch MP7. All of a sudden, I heard the sound of an approaching helicopter.
"Chup-chup-chup-chup-chup..."
The helicopter sounded exactly like a helicopter in an action movie watched in DTS. As the helicopter prepared to land, its spinning rotor blades kicked up a lot of sand, dust and La Biss. Fortunately, I had brought my trusty goggles along. Just as I was putting them on, a dead chicken flew in my direction and almost hit me smack in the face. I applied some snappy kung-fu footwork and the dead chicken went splat against a Perutdua Valva instead.
As the helicopter touched down in the middle of the street, the door swung open and two men dressed in badly-tailored suits stepped out. Even though the blades were high above them, they bent their heads very low. I guess they must love their heads very much. They approached the men beside the truck and spoke to them briefly. After pulling a balaclava over each of their heads, the men synchronised their watches and prepared to enter the tuition centre. When I saw this, I was so excited that I wanted to go to the toilet. However, there was no toilet around, so I tried my best to suppress the load that was nudging against my rectum. I even farted a few times in the process. Later that night, my mother gave me a sound scolding when she saw the 'tire marks' on my briefs. What made it worse was the smell. My poor mother said it reminded her of a soya sauce factory.
The men who were armed with the MP7 got into position. It was great because it looked just like in the movies. They even made those fancy hand signals that I could never understand. It was so cool I farted and almost emptied my bowels there and then. This was why there were 'tire marks' on my underwear. Then came the moment of truth. One of them kicked the door open and rushed into the tuition centre. The rest followed suit.
"Chup-chup-chup-chup-chup..."
The helicopter sounded exactly like a helicopter in an action movie watched in DTS. As the helicopter prepared to land, its spinning rotor blades kicked up a lot of sand, dust and La Biss. Fortunately, I had brought my trusty goggles along. Just as I was putting them on, a dead chicken flew in my direction and almost hit me smack in the face. I applied some snappy kung-fu footwork and the dead chicken went splat against a Perutdua Valva instead.
As the helicopter touched down in the middle of the street, the door swung open and two men dressed in badly-tailored suits stepped out. Even though the blades were high above them, they bent their heads very low. I guess they must love their heads very much. They approached the men beside the truck and spoke to them briefly. After pulling a balaclava over each of their heads, the men synchronised their watches and prepared to enter the tuition centre. When I saw this, I was so excited that I wanted to go to the toilet. However, there was no toilet around, so I tried my best to suppress the load that was nudging against my rectum. I even farted a few times in the process. Later that night, my mother gave me a sound scolding when she saw the 'tire marks' on my briefs. What made it worse was the smell. My poor mother said it reminded her of a soya sauce factory.
The men who were armed with the MP7 got into position. It was great because it looked just like in the movies. They even made those fancy hand signals that I could never understand. It was so cool I farted and almost emptied my bowels there and then. This was why there were 'tire marks' on my underwear. Then came the moment of truth. One of them kicked the door open and rushed into the tuition centre. The rest followed suit.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Ah Lee bin Ah Boo ((( earthquakeduck muhibbah remix )))
A little bird told me that the best place to search for La Biss would be in Penang, Darul Sampah. And so, early this morning, I set off in pursuit of La Biss. I did not bother arming myself with any cumbersome protective gear because I love the smell of La Biss in the morning. It reminds me of victory.
I reached the dump site in Pulau Tikus as the sun was rising. Hills upon hills of La Biss silhouetted against the rising sun was truly a sight to behold. I reached into my backpack and took out my Leica. The images I captured were so breathtaking tears started to well up in my eyes. I opened my mouth wide and inhaled a lungful of La Biss-flavoured air. As the micro-particles made their way into my bloodstream, my mouth started to water. It was as if I was swimming in an exquisite mixture of belacan, soya sauce, salted fish, laksa, cencaluk, smelly feet and funky armpits! I just wished I could swallow all that beautiful La Biss in one gigantic gulp.
Then I started walking among the dump site like a zombie high on syabu. I would stagger around for a while, and when I felt like it, I would let myself fall onto the soft, decomposing La Biss and then roll around in them. I have never felt so good before. It was the ultimate feeling! I was laughing and laughing and laughing when all of a sudden, a whole heap of fresh La Biss was poured on top of me. Chunks of rotten tofu almost choked me to death. Fortunately for me, an old computer landed inches from my family jewels. The rest were mainly rotten vegetables and La Biss from the home of a typically wasteful Malaysian family.
After I swallowed the rotten tofu, I started going through the fresh heap of La Biss. What caught my eyes was this bright pink Hello Pussy notebook. The cover read, 'Mai Not Buk, Ah Lee bin Ah Boo.' From the name, I immediately knew that this Ah Lee bin Ah Boo was the product of a muhibbah marriage. I sat down on a pile of old newspapers and turned to the first page.
'Studi is difikel. i am no unersand wat teecher teech. why must dey mak so hard 2 studi? i am very hate skoo. stoopee skoo.'
'Saterrday. affer i were play wif my dik, my dik got pain. i very scary. so i were told mak. i oredi scary, mak is socold me sum more. she is say, what you are do with your dik?! you are always abyuse your litel brader. he so small you shud take care for him.
'den she are tooked my brader to spesialis kleenik. i is say to dokter, what wrong wif my dik?' dokter is say dik is sik. so i is say wat you meen? i is speak LOUDLY: DIKISIK OR SIDIKID??? stoopee dokter onli smail. i is want to say bad word but mak was dere so i is only say SHRRAP!!!'
'then mak are say, we taking my dik home. he few mash better after we taking him to bomoh.'
And that was all there was in the notebook. Except for a few gulai stains, the rest of the pages were empty. I closed the notebook and just sat there for a few moments. I thought about Ah Lee and his life. All of a sudden, I felt sad.
I reached the dump site in Pulau Tikus as the sun was rising. Hills upon hills of La Biss silhouetted against the rising sun was truly a sight to behold. I reached into my backpack and took out my Leica. The images I captured were so breathtaking tears started to well up in my eyes. I opened my mouth wide and inhaled a lungful of La Biss-flavoured air. As the micro-particles made their way into my bloodstream, my mouth started to water. It was as if I was swimming in an exquisite mixture of belacan, soya sauce, salted fish, laksa, cencaluk, smelly feet and funky armpits! I just wished I could swallow all that beautiful La Biss in one gigantic gulp.
Then I started walking among the dump site like a zombie high on syabu. I would stagger around for a while, and when I felt like it, I would let myself fall onto the soft, decomposing La Biss and then roll around in them. I have never felt so good before. It was the ultimate feeling! I was laughing and laughing and laughing when all of a sudden, a whole heap of fresh La Biss was poured on top of me. Chunks of rotten tofu almost choked me to death. Fortunately for me, an old computer landed inches from my family jewels. The rest were mainly rotten vegetables and La Biss from the home of a typically wasteful Malaysian family.
After I swallowed the rotten tofu, I started going through the fresh heap of La Biss. What caught my eyes was this bright pink Hello Pussy notebook. The cover read, 'Mai Not Buk, Ah Lee bin Ah Boo.' From the name, I immediately knew that this Ah Lee bin Ah Boo was the product of a muhibbah marriage. I sat down on a pile of old newspapers and turned to the first page.
'Studi is difikel. i am no unersand wat teecher teech. why must dey mak so hard 2 studi? i am very hate skoo. stoopee skoo.'
'Saterrday. affer i were play wif my dik, my dik got pain. i very scary. so i were told mak. i oredi scary, mak is socold me sum more. she is say, what you are do with your dik?! you are always abyuse your litel brader. he so small you shud take care for him.
'den she are tooked my brader to spesialis kleenik. i is say to dokter, what wrong wif my dik?' dokter is say dik is sik. so i is say wat you meen? i is speak LOUDLY: DIKISIK OR SIDIKID??? stoopee dokter onli smail. i is want to say bad word but mak was dere so i is only say SHRRAP!!!'
'then mak are say, we taking my dik home. he few mash better after we taking him to bomoh.'
And that was all there was in the notebook. Except for a few gulai stains, the rest of the pages were empty. I closed the notebook and just sat there for a few moments. I thought about Ah Lee and his life. All of a sudden, I felt sad.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Electric Café (Part 4)
He signalled for one of the waiters to come over, but it wasn't Wan whom he signalled. It was this tall, skinny Chinese guy with a horrid crop of cybercafé hair.
"Why don't you get Wan to come over instead?"
"Oh Wan. Ummm...he's a really good waiter, but I don't really want to get in trouble for being racially discriminating."
This statement of his really boggled my mind. I mean, why one earth would calling a Malay waiter over for a demonstration be considered racially discriminating? For this reason, I was determined to ask him after the demo.
"May see ah low sigh?" (What's up, boss?)
"You joe gor demo..." (I want to do a demo)
"Ng high ya ma? Yau lye??? (Are you serious? Again???)
"Yard chee gum door la... (Just one more time...)
"Low sigh, gum demo fart, ng dim girl wohh...(Boss, we cannot keep this up...)
"Gum ngo gar nay yarn gung la...(I'll increase your wages...)
"Gar gay door?" (How much would you increase it by?)
"Gar yard mahn..."(Add RM1...)
"Gum siew mehhh..." (That's not a lot...)
At this juncture, it was obvious that the boss was getting a little agitated.
"Gum lay you ng you? Ng you ngo wan die yee gor..." (So how is it going to be? If you don't want to, I'll ask someone else...)
"Aiya hou la hou la..."(Alright, alright...)
"Why don't you get Wan to come over instead?"
"Oh Wan. Ummm...he's a really good waiter, but I don't really want to get in trouble for being racially discriminating."
This statement of his really boggled my mind. I mean, why one earth would calling a Malay waiter over for a demonstration be considered racially discriminating? For this reason, I was determined to ask him after the demo.
"May see ah low sigh?" (What's up, boss?)
"You joe gor demo..." (I want to do a demo)
"Ng high ya ma? Yau lye??? (Are you serious? Again???)
"Yard chee gum door la... (Just one more time...)
"Low sigh, gum demo fart, ng dim girl wohh...(Boss, we cannot keep this up...)
"Gum ngo gar nay yarn gung la...(I'll increase your wages...)
"Gar gay door?" (How much would you increase it by?)
"Gar yard mahn..."(Add RM1...)
"Gum siew mehhh..." (That's not a lot...)
At this juncture, it was obvious that the boss was getting a little agitated.
"Gum lay you ng you? Ng you ngo wan die yee gor..." (So how is it going to be? If you don't want to, I'll ask someone else...)
"Aiya hou la hou la..."(Alright, alright...)
The Electric Café (Part 3)
I wanted to raise my hand and let him know that we wanted to speak to him, but apparently, he was on his way to our table.
"Hi, you must be the boss."
"Well actually, I'm one of the bosses."
"I see."
"Is there anything that I can help you with?"
"Well yes, as a matter of fact. My wife and I are really curious about that little piece of jewellery that your servers wear around their neck. Is it for sale?"
"Well...no." As he finished the sentence, he gave me a look that I didn't fully understand.
"Oh, okay. So it's just for your servers."
"I suppose you can say that."
"So it's a part of their uniform?"
"You can say that as well. Do you mind if I sit down?"
"Umm, yeah..sure, of course!"
"Well I don't really know how to put this to you, but the collar thing that you see around their necks is actually a part of our efforts to ensure good service."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Well, you know how everyone's complaining about terrible service these days, and as you probably already know, the F&B line is terribly competitive."
"..."
"And so my partner and I, we came up with this strategy to maintain our service."
"Okay..."
"But I think the best way for you to understand what I'm saying here is through a demonstration."
"That would be great!"
"Hi, you must be the boss."
"Well actually, I'm one of the bosses."
"I see."
"Is there anything that I can help you with?"
"Well yes, as a matter of fact. My wife and I are really curious about that little piece of jewellery that your servers wear around their neck. Is it for sale?"
"Well...no." As he finished the sentence, he gave me a look that I didn't fully understand.
"Oh, okay. So it's just for your servers."
"I suppose you can say that."
"So it's a part of their uniform?"
"You can say that as well. Do you mind if I sit down?"
"Umm, yeah..sure, of course!"
"Well I don't really know how to put this to you, but the collar thing that you see around their necks is actually a part of our efforts to ensure good service."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"Well, you know how everyone's complaining about terrible service these days, and as you probably already know, the F&B line is terribly competitive."
"..."
"And so my partner and I, we came up with this strategy to maintain our service."
"Okay..."
"But I think the best way for you to understand what I'm saying here is through a demonstration."
"That would be great!"
The Electric Café (Part 2)
"Did you see that thing around his neck?"
"Yeah, and I don't think it's from Tiffany."
"I wonder what it is..."
"Let's ask the waiter, shall we?"
"Yeah why not."
When Wan came over, I waited till he had safely placed our drinks on the table before venturing to ask him what that piece of bling around his neck was all about.
"Ey 'dik, amende kat leher you tu?" (Hey dick, what's that thing around your neck?)
"Ahahha...encik tanya boss lahhh..." (Why don't you ask the boss?)
Maybe it was a trick of the light, but I noticed a slight twitch on his face as he walked away.
"That's weird."
"Yeah I know eh."
"Aiya, should've asked him about that stupid button on the table too."
"Never mind, I'll ask the boss. Ehhh, who's the boss la?"
"Must be that hairy guy with the calcium-deficient body."
"Which one? The one who's talking to the fat guy?"
"No la! The one who's sitting at the table in the corner."
"Him? What makes you think it's him? Doesn't look like a boss to me."
"I saw him ordering the waiters and waitresses around."
"That doesn't make him a boss. Maybe he's the supervisor."
"Well does it matter? If he's the supervisor, he's in charge, so he'll definitely know what's up with that collar thing around the waiter's neck and that oversized nipple on every table."
"Hey I think every waiter and waitress has that same piece of thing around their neck. I think it looks pretty cool lahhh, maybe they sell them here, some sort of jewellery. Maybe that's why they get the waiters and the waitresses to wear them. Advertising mahh..."
"Don't know lahhh, hey look the boss is coming over..."
"Maybe we can buy a pair, one for you, and one for me..."
"Yeah, and I don't think it's from Tiffany."
"I wonder what it is..."
"Let's ask the waiter, shall we?"
"Yeah why not."
When Wan came over, I waited till he had safely placed our drinks on the table before venturing to ask him what that piece of bling around his neck was all about.
"Ey 'dik, amende kat leher you tu?" (Hey dick, what's that thing around your neck?)
"Ahahha...encik tanya boss lahhh..." (Why don't you ask the boss?)
Maybe it was a trick of the light, but I noticed a slight twitch on his face as he walked away.
"That's weird."
"Yeah I know eh."
"Aiya, should've asked him about that stupid button on the table too."
"Never mind, I'll ask the boss. Ehhh, who's the boss la?"
"Must be that hairy guy with the calcium-deficient body."
"Which one? The one who's talking to the fat guy?"
"No la! The one who's sitting at the table in the corner."
"Him? What makes you think it's him? Doesn't look like a boss to me."
"I saw him ordering the waiters and waitresses around."
"That doesn't make him a boss. Maybe he's the supervisor."
"Well does it matter? If he's the supervisor, he's in charge, so he'll definitely know what's up with that collar thing around the waiter's neck and that oversized nipple on every table."
"Hey I think every waiter and waitress has that same piece of thing around their neck. I think it looks pretty cool lahhh, maybe they sell them here, some sort of jewellery. Maybe that's why they get the waiters and the waitresses to wear them. Advertising mahh..."
"Don't know lahhh, hey look the boss is coming over..."
"Maybe we can buy a pair, one for you, and one for me..."
Monday, July 16, 2007
The Electric Café (Part 1)
The wife and I are always on the lookout for new cafés and restaurants to hang out in, so when we spotted a new one on the corner of A Street and B Street, we decided to give it a try. What attracted us --- like a couple of moths, I should add --- was the huge signboard brought to life in psychedelic neon with the words The Electric Café emblazoned across it. As they say, the signboard itself was worth the price of admission.
It was a Wednesday night, which probably explained the sparseness of the café. Soon as we sat down, an impeccably-dressed waiter came over and handed us the menus before rattling off the specials of the day. Then he gave us several minutes to pore over the leather-bound menu. Once we've decided, the wife and I started chatting about something that I couldn't remember now. And whilst chatting, I noticed a sort of plastic cup on the table. It was more like a bowl actually, but placed upside down. The bowl was transparent, and hence we could see that it was actually placed over a button that was built into the table itself. Ah, so we got it. It wasn't a bowl but actually a cover placed over the button to prevent someone from accidentally pressing it.
How strange we both had thought, for what purpose could that little implement serve?
By then the waiter had returned, and as I recited the orders to him, I noticed something equally unusual, if not more so, than the button on the table. The waiter, whose name I believe is Wan, had a strapped-on collar around his neck. It looked more like a sort of bracelet than a collar, and there was a tiny blinking light on it. I had wanted to ask him what it was, but seeing how he was so earnest and professional, I didn't. As we waited for our food and drinks to arrive, we looked around the café and noticed that every table was equipped with an identical button, each covered by that tiny dome of transparent plastic.
It was a Wednesday night, which probably explained the sparseness of the café. Soon as we sat down, an impeccably-dressed waiter came over and handed us the menus before rattling off the specials of the day. Then he gave us several minutes to pore over the leather-bound menu. Once we've decided, the wife and I started chatting about something that I couldn't remember now. And whilst chatting, I noticed a sort of plastic cup on the table. It was more like a bowl actually, but placed upside down. The bowl was transparent, and hence we could see that it was actually placed over a button that was built into the table itself. Ah, so we got it. It wasn't a bowl but actually a cover placed over the button to prevent someone from accidentally pressing it.
How strange we both had thought, for what purpose could that little implement serve?
By then the waiter had returned, and as I recited the orders to him, I noticed something equally unusual, if not more so, than the button on the table. The waiter, whose name I believe is Wan, had a strapped-on collar around his neck. It looked more like a sort of bracelet than a collar, and there was a tiny blinking light on it. I had wanted to ask him what it was, but seeing how he was so earnest and professional, I didn't. As we waited for our food and drinks to arrive, we looked around the café and noticed that every table was equipped with an identical button, each covered by that tiny dome of transparent plastic.
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