The Singapore Little India Riot III - The Charge Sheet

18 December 2013, Singapore: The Singapore Little India Riot quickly turned into a non-event, much like popping champagne and getting a 'phish' instead of a 'pop'. Or a firework shooting skywards and not producing the effect some folks were hoping for. It all expired in a limp pizzle - a nice word conjuring the image of fire being extinguished by piss - but is actually a real word meaning 'animal penis' or 'penis of smaller stature'.

Mdm Lee Chin Hiong, 58, who was getting fitted for a cheongsam that fateful nite at one old shop along Race Course Road, recalled panicking.

"Aiyoh, call me Ms Lee can already," Ms/Mdm Lee said, batting an eyelid at this reporter. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, alarmed somewhat by her garish lipstick.

"That evening I was just slipping into my silk cheongsam when I heard 'riot' and got scared. I quickly pulled up my dress, ready to run. See, it split from my knee almost to the armpit!"  Mdm Lee then showed this reporter her fashion faux pas. There appeared to be white tofu between the seams. Fifty-eight year old tofu that was a bit ruddy and cellulite-challenged. This reporter almost choked and had to struggle to keep his breakfast masala thosai down.

Er, Ms/Mdm Lee, you seem very 'trendy' yah? he managed to cough out.

"Aiyah, these days, 50 is the new 30, don't you know? I still go for my club dance at Mohd Sultan and line dance at Far East Square. My assistant Tim over there knows I still got lots of energy," said Ms/Mdm Lee, pointing to a Chinese blond-haired 20-something male at the far end of the couch. He wore a white jacket and gold lamé pants and was bare chested. He blew Ms/Mdm Lee a kiss and mouthed, "Love ya!" before turning his attention back to his shiny new iPad Air.

It was all very moving, like glass sculpture. Of a cougar devouring a young pup.

A set of daily newspaper lay nearby. Its headline was less suggestive. 'Rioters Charged', it read. 

The Singapore government acted in typical swiftness to bring those involved in the riot to justice. A total of 28 would be charged, whilst 53 will be repatriated.

Mr Park-See Buay Chao, a Korean who has recently obtained his citizenship was not surprised. "This place not like Malaysia lah. Crime here take days to solve, not years!"

"Now with CCTV some more, even before a crime is committed, the police will aledy have solved it. Let me show you."

He motioned this reporter to a nearby carpark CCTV camera and pretended to pick his pocket. Immediately the reporter's handphone beeped to signal an incoming SMS message. It said, "Beware of pickpocket - courtesy of your Neighbourhood Police Post."

"See, I no bluff one," said Mr Park-See, in perfect Singlish, showing that his citizenship was well-earned. He then unzipped and zipped up his pants, triggering another SMS. This time the message read, "Alert, alert! Color wolf in vicinity! - Courtesy of your Neighbourhood Police Post."

As this reporter was on a limited SMS plan, he decided to distance himself from that over-enthusiastic new citizen, who was last seen setting off a few car alarms and skipping away happily.

Curious to know how the police managed to identify so many non-English speaking migrants so very quickly, this reporter spoke to Ms Wong 'Crime Watch Babe' Ka Fan, Community Relations Director of Police. 

"Oh, yes, it was definitely a challenge," said Ms Wong. "India, you see, has about 26 different mother tongues, not counting which is longer or shorter. It would have been a scramble to find translators on such short notice."

"Also, some of the suspects spoke gibberish hoping to throw us off. But we were smarter. We pretended to understand and rounded them up, hehe. Smart, right?" Ms Wong beamed, proud of her Home Team mates.

"Honestly, if we didn't have Google's Gigi voice translator on our police Android phones, we would be lost. See, we simply set it to Indian and all translations will come out, including, strangely, Red Indians too!"

"And to ensure accuracy, we turned to Google Gesture Translate. It uses Google Glass to interpret the many head-shakings we got that night. You know lah, with these migrant Indian workers, 'yes' also shake head, 'no' also shake head. Very headache leh," said Ms Wong, shaking her pretty head to carry home the point.

Mr Dhaila Kanutlusmejob, a migrant worker who has been hiding in the forests of Woodlands since The Riot, was relieved.

"Boy, am I glad the troublemakers are caught and charged. Does it mean I can come out now? I haven't bathed in over a week?" said Mr K, the last sentence needing no Gigi translation as even the grass around him died. This reporter bade a hasty retreat and rubbed some Tiger Balm under his nose.

Not faraway, Mr Mecasa Soucasa, head of the BAAOFT, a migrant NGO self-help group, could be seen beating the surrounding long lallang grass in hopes of driving out more hiding workers to help. He was concerned that the government was too quick, too harsh in its action.

"Alamak, the government should forgive and forget lah, after all, these people just had a bit too much to drink. Just let them sleep it off. I am sure by the time they wake up, 99% of them cannot remember what happened or that they were even in Little India. It happens to them every weekend. Some even forget why they are here in Singapore in the first place!"

"I am sure the migrant Indian community will pitch in to help pay for the burnt vehicles and EMT folks hurt. They are only here to 'wan sek', you know, make a living."

"Some are even willing to host that injured bus lady on a two week free holiday stay in their hometown, as long as she doesn't mind squat toilets and the family cooking with cow dung."

With Mr Soucasa was lawyer and activist Mr Ng 'Many Lives' Jai See, who is hoping to plea-bargain with the authorities on a more suitable outcome for the affected migrant rioters.

"Sending them away makes no sense. We need workers here. I say let them make restitution by working for Singapore Technologies to help rebuild those ambulances and police cars. Afterwards they can continue to help them build armour vehicles for the Third World countries. No more shortage of labour. It is a win-win situation all round," said Mr Ng, once more on his handphone trying to connect to the AG's office. Another busy signal again.

"We can always make them wear ankle monitor bracelets to keep them out of future trouble. A great country like America also got give three chances with their '3 Strikes And You Are Out' thing. We only got one strike? Wah lau, how to be First World Country???" lamented Mr Ng.

Er, Labour Harmony is very important here leh.

"I know, I know," said Mr Ng. "But transient worker, transient problem... they deserve transient treatment also lor."

Huh, transient treatment?

"Forgive and forget lah!"

Oh, like that also can?

Mr Ng nodded. "We want to send the positive message that we are all 'One Happy Family'. Like this where got other people from India want to come here to work. So strict one."

Minister of Man-Woman-Robot Power, Mr Tua 'Always Higher Productivity' Peh Chek, disagreed. 

"We cannot let this cancer take root. Once it happens, got to cut cut cut. Make sure message is clear. You either follow Singapore Way or don't. Very simple."

"Besides, we have Thai, Bangladeshi, Myanmarese workers queuing to come to this Garden City to work. You know, after Gardens by the Bay opened, more foreigners want to come here to work, smell the wonderful flowers," said Mr Tua, smelling his armpit to illustrate the point. He reminded this reporter of Kevin in 'A Fish Called Wanda'. Unlike most offices, Mr Tua's was strangely devoid of plants. In a corner slumped a robot.

"Ah, that one," indicated Mr Tua with his index finger, "is our first robot that can fry fried rice. Very groundbreaking."

"We are training others to make wanton mee, mee rebus, hor fun, etc., and that elusive Singapore Noodle. Free the local labour to do more important things. Best of all, this fella works 24x7 without complaint, sick leave or maternity leave. Great right?"

"At the moment we are also working with Google to introduce driver-less taxis and delivery personnel. Next time, peak hour sure got taxi. Next time, a robot will deliver your mail. Next time...," Mr Ng paused. "You just wait." 

Google was in the news recently for buying over a military robot company that created the BigDog army robot-dog load carrier. It can run and jump over incredible terrain like a real dog whilst carrying more than a few bags of NTUC rice. Traversing Singapore's landscaped HDB estates would be a cinch.

"Next time, BigDog can accompany our SAF Relief Effort and help deliver relief supplies to countries laid in ruins by earthquake and what-not. More savings in personnel, heheh." Mr Tua laughed, feeling very triumphant.

Er, what would the 'savings in personnel' be doing instead?

"Oh, make babies lor," concluded an even bigger smiling Mr Tua. "Haven't you heard? 50 is the new 30, so our folks can still have babies, like that getai singer Lingling. No point asking young folks to have babies. Too busy, they say. No money, they say. Houses too expensive, they say. So, we let them cheong when young. When old and slower liao then have kids, heheh."

"It's all worked out in a 25-year plan. 'Less Workers More Babies' is what we are aiming at. Our next generation will be trained to supervise transient workers better and push buttons. No more riots! No complaining workforce! Oops, not supposed to disclose that," apologised Mr Tua, looking no less perturbed.

"Ok, got to go. Any more questions, make an appointment with my robot secretary over there. Just wave your phone in front of her and she will sync your calendar and mine for a meeting. Fantastic, right?"

"Oh, make sure your NFC is on first, yah?"

With that, Mr Always Higher Productivity stepped out of his office and into his waiting car, a driver-less and electric one no less, almost running over his migrant worker-employee who had just polished it to a shine. But the foreign man did not complain. He simply slipped back into the shadows to return to his dormitory somewhere. For him, tomorrow is just another day same as today until the time comes for him to return to his family well fed and kept by his hard earned wages. -A true replay of what many of our ancestors similarly went through here more than half a century ago - minus the gleaming buildings, skyscrapers and clean river. There's a price to pay for such pristine-ness, some say. 

How true, a black bird seemed to crow, as it dove and slammed itself into a glass window pane smudging it. Poor thing. Don't think it could have seen that coming!

- A parody by TC Lai

Back to Part 1: Click here

News: Google's BigDog purchase: Here; Fried Rice Robot: Here

The Singapore Little India Riot II - Alcohol Ban

Saturday, 14 December, Singapore: News of Sunday's Singapore Little India Riot, unsurprisingly, took the nation by surprise. Some local citizens were clearly traumatised, wondering if their jewel of a "velly safe, velly orderly" island home had become a thing of the past. A few kiasu ones quickly went to NTUC and emptied its shelves of kaya jam and soda piah. Toliet rolls too, temporarily spiking its value by a few plies.

A PAP stalwart was heard saying "Die lah, LKY not yet dead and we are making him turn in his grave! Jialat. Aren't we supposed to be in a Golden Age?"

All Golden Ages eventually lose their lustre and fall into the Dark Ages, countered someone in all-blue attire, a former MP. 

A person in all-white attire heard that and looked aghast. "Wah lau eh, how can you be so 'orh sim' (blackhearted)!" he said, waving a Lightning sign in protest. He then screamed "Choy! Choy! Choy! Touch wood!" and began smacking the guy in all-blue repeatedly as if to fend off an annoying cockroach. The guy in all-blue tried to protect himself with his Hammer sign but to no avail. In the end, he could only run and hide and was not seen or heard of for quite a while. Some said he ran away to Australia with a mysterious woman that was not his wife.

Similar sentiments were just as widespread all over the country. "What is this country coming to?" was the most oft-heard lament in the heartlands, followed by people knuckling themselves in mock distress on the head, what 4-D punters do when they forget to buy a 1st Prize 4-D winning number.

"Yesterday bus strike, today Little India strike, tomorrow what liao? PME strike?" was what some punters decried before it dawned on them that any future strike was itself a punting opportunity. Many went to the Totalisator Board to enquire and make suggestion.

Some uncles at the kopitiams were more academic. Mr Gian 'Live Well' Fai See wanted to know where all the jobs for skilled Singaporeans have gone to. 

"Government say must study and upgrade, so I go get MBA. Now that piece of paper like sai juak, not worth shit!" Mr Gian was visibly angry and spat to emphasize his point. A little of that landed on this reporter, who then took a wary step backwards.

Mr Gian continued his tirade: "Employers only want cheap.They say no need pay $100 for seasoned screwdriver when a $2 new one from Philippines can do. What the $%@&! Don't they know old screwdriver screw better?"

Reflecting on the situation, some citizens contemplated moving to Johor, Malaysia, where new, safe private estates were being marketed to inflation-averse "silver hair" retirees. But black-haired residents had also been spotted at these resort-style retirement homes too, giving proof that a 'dye also never mind' under-table arrangement did, in fact, exist.

According to Google satellite pictures, these silver hair/black hair estates featured high security walls and jeeps that patrolled with machine guns. Or wooden guns painted to look like real. Malaysia after all, could ill afford another embarrassing insurgency after what happened at Gerik, Perak in July 2000 where a host of guns were easily looted from an army camp. Or the more recent stand-off with Sulu terrorists that lasted weeks. Where was the border defence, everybody asked, including one seldom seen albino Orang Asli gentlman.

Ms Ho 'Filial' Sim Kia, a self-styled private banker (aka bookie), concurred. "The government, after all, is advising us to send our aged parents there. I hear they are paying us children a $20k Filial Piety Grant to offset any hardship. Wait, is this in Singapore dollars or ringgit?"

Ms Ho's brother, Pie Kia, felt putting his parents in Johor made sense. "The durians there are cheaper and better." Pei Kia had recently taken to photographing food during his meals. His BMI index was once mistaken as blood pressure reading, so high it was.

"Or we could stay on the Singapore side still...in Marsiling," whispered Ms Ho, in a rather conspiratorial tone. "It would still be within the 5km limit and eligible for grant. After all, no one wants to take the chance of being killed by a motorcycle snatch thief in downtown JB! Like my brother always believed, better die with full belly than purse full of unspent ringgit! I mean exchange rate so good why waste???"

Elsewhere, reactions of Singaporeans to the Riot ranged from "bochap" to "aiyah, the government will handle lah!" 

And handle the Government did, with the Prime Minister of the country ordering a Board of Inquiry to be formed immediately to investigate the incident.

"But sir," said Home Matters Minister Blanga 'Barking Dog' R Jaga. "We have already ascertained that the riot was due to drunken workers, not dissatisfied workers."

The Prime Minister shot Minister Jaga, also his Dy PM, a stern look. It was to tell him that he was not playing ball. "The BOI will find out many things. Many things!" 

Minister Jaga in turn wondered if his Dy PM post was all for show. How come the PM never give him chance one? Is it true then that an Indian will never be PM of this country of supposed equal race and opportunity? A country with the crescent moon and five stars on its flag? Minister Jaga was beginning to see the crescent moon as a smirk. Gotcha! it seemed to sneer.

Minister Jaga hoped not. His father worked himself to the bone as a PWD worker so he could become a lawyer. And become a lawyer he did, even if it was all about handling divorcee and Ah Long cases. How he longed to tackle the more interesting cases like Apple vs Samsung, for instance.

Minister Jaga sipped on his Irish coffee and slipped another sugar cube into his boss' tea. Heheh, no harm sweetening his tongue some more, he sniggered.

A journalist present at the press conference raised his hand and asked the difficult question no one else dared to ask. "What 'many' things, sir?"

The Prime Minister straightened his non-existent tie and pointed a thumb at the daring but clueless reporter. (Pointing with a thumb is dumb but regarded as a sign of good upbringing in this island country.) 

"Well, for one thing, we can confirm that it is the drink. Second, if it is the drink's fault, we must find out if it is because of lousy quality. If it is Tiger, we must feedback to our good friends at the APB brewery. We cannot have a Singapore brand suffer, right or not? Whatever we do, we must put in 100% effort. If we want to get people drunk, we better do a good job. No, a GREAT JOB. Get them so drunk they cannot lift a finger to riot. Where are my scientists? Call BIOPOLIS. I tell you again, this is the Singapore Way, Singapore Way. We find targeted solutions."

Later, a government official elaborated on what the PM meant (off the record, of course). He said with a BOI, the next time something like this happened, it would be easier to get funds.

"This in Law is known as a 'precedent', meaning the same-same has happened before. If it happens again, say, at Golden Mile Complex, then we can allocate funds to replace the burnt out vehicles, street clean up and hospital bills of those injured. It makes accounting easier. If not, IRAS will jump on our backs," he said. IRAS jump on a government agency's back? Kah-kee-nang pak kah-kee-nang? Seemed quite implausible.

The government official saw the strange look on this reporter's face and strived to reassure him. "I know it is all Ah Gong's money. But black and white better lah. No one wants to be accused of taking The People's money. No, no, not at all. Singapore is corruption-free as you know. COR-LUP-SUNT-FLEE, I say." 

"Plus, BOI members also got expenses to reimburse. So, you see, proper thing to do. PROPER THING TO DO," added the unnamed official, winking his eye as he said so.

According to government plans, finding a solution to the riots would be an inter-agency effort. Minister Without Portfolio Mr Chor 'I Not Free Want' Sim Mit has been tasked to head the task force. Its working name will be 'Singapore Little India Riot BOI' or SLIRBOI, later leaked to the public as The Ten Little Indians. ('SLIRBOI' sounded gay, someone worried.) The BOI will draw 10 members from the various relevant government agencies.

Minister of State for Interesting Affairs Mr See 'Everywhere Man' Kah Juak is one of them. But when asked why he was selected, he could only say, "Interesting!"

Another BOI would-be member, Minister of State for the Preservation of Hawker Dishes, welcomed his appointment, believing his involvement would encourage more people to consume Indian curry and live better as One People, Many Spices. Isn't it One People, Many Cultures? asked this reporter. Same-same lah, the minister said as he munched on a take-away chapati roll filled with mutton rendang, taupok bits and dipped in Devil's Curry. He sipped on what looked like a bandung drink mixed with Chinese herbal tea. He threw up.

"Traditional dishes still better," he said, weakly, leaning on an aide as his knees buckled once again. "But maybe not Indian rojak or this kind of rojak."

Minister of State for Clean Toilets saw his task as nothing new. "I told those chaps many times we had a challenge on our hands, but they never listened. 32,000 buggers descend on Little India every weekend. You tell me, where to find a clean toilet? No wonder the workers find the grass here greener than from where they come. They crap all over the place!"

Speaking on accountability, BOI chairman, Minister Jaga (aka Dy PM), said the first people to be hauled up for questioning would be the Mayor and MP for Little India. But since the redrawing of constituency lines the last election, no one knew who was in-charge of what or where anymore.

Further more, a recent survey of school kids aged 14 and above could not name one single thing a Mayor's job entailed. "Collect pay, lor," said one cheeky youngster in immaculate Singlish. Others wondered if the Mayor and MP did the same job, i.e. give away prizes at end-of-school term ceremonies.

When asked about the alcohol ban in Little India, Minister Jaga (aka Dy PM), became livid. "Ban is ban," he said, rather testily.

"You have to forgive my colleague," said PM. "You must understand the stigma his kind, er, his race, had to go through over the past few decades."

Stigma?

"People used to think Indians were all "todi kings", you know. Drink like siao," explained the PM. "Drink and cannot work."

"Can you imagine not being hired because of that?"

Minister Jaga looked at his PM and his eyes softened. Looks like the sugar cube worked, he thought. But he was wrong. The PM went on to say:

"But we have made great strides since. We even hired an Indian for the top job of president of this country! But sadly, his gene expression overwhelmed him and he could not resist, even when on the job.So you say lah, how to trust these people?!"

Minister Jaga suddenly realised why his Dy PM title was more ceremonial than actual. They couldn't trust him to be sober! His bloodshot eyes again became livid, and he was lost for words. I need a drink when I get home, he told himself. "This is getting too much to bear!" And so, unknown to the BOI chairman, he had already unwittingly unearthed the very reason why the rioters drank, and got violent.

- A parody by TC Lai

Continued at: Little India Riot III - The Charge Sheet

The Singapore Little India Riot - The What?

Monday, 9 December, Singapore - By now the shocked world (aka the many int'l millionaires who party here daily at the Marina Bay Sands) would have recovered from their rapid finger flutterings and mutterings of "OMGs" to take stock of what actually happened here in 'ultra peaceful' Singapore.

"Did it really happen?" asked Mrs Jimmy II Shoes, her expression one of shock, incredulity and lost of daylight time - a common malady with frequent latenighfers. Or it could be a case of mascara gone amok from rubbing too many shoulders and behinds.

'Did It Really Happen?' was the most tweeted phrase in Tweetersphere last night (and early morning), many choosing to believe that rioting on this island republic had gone the way of smallpox or only happened during the time of Policemen Wore Shorts (PWS) - a nostalgic period most familiar to the mnemonic folks at the Singapore Memory Project. In Orchard Road Shopping Time, the event would be forgotten like last year's Great Singapore Sale. Little India Riot? Where got....Oh.

When the nation's 3G network finally jammed from too many Youtube downloads, it slowly dawned on the infinity pool populace at MBS that the rioting event could, possibly, have happened. When one poolsider, known as Diamond Drink Party Girl (the new incarnation of the Sarong Party Girl) saw the video, she had this to say: "Cheh, only two burning vehicles. That's like bi-sai (boogers) in a Michael Bay movie." With that, she flopped underwater and resurfaced beside another angmoh who was similarly holding a high fluted wine glass with something shiny inside.

At one of the newer heartlands, our reporter Kay Poh Siao, spoke to some residents about the incident. Madam Epok Epok, 65, saw it with her own eyes. She lived on the 75th floor of the new 100-floor HDB Pinnacle III, 'highest-rise living for the 22nd Century and beyond" according to the housing board. She was excited but could not add much. "Yes, yes, I saw it. But I was so high, the fires were macham kuching eyes at night. Sometimes there, sometimes not. Plus I also old, eyesight not so good. But my abang saw it too." Incek Milo Susu, who was standing at the windswept balcony and pointing in the general direction of Little India, nodded and added, "Heng ah, we so high, so velly safe! If down there, susah lah." 

HDB should build more of these, Incek Susu suggested, as he caressed his hardearned balcony ledge. At 75 storeys above normal citizen level, the sight of the country below was indeed breathtaking. "Heheh, die also nearer to heaven," he chuckled.

Down at another immigrant hotspot, Geylang Lor 2 to Lor 22, Mr Pim Cha Boh, expressed dismay. "How come never call us? We could riot together. Back in China, we velly one heart one. Communist mah." According to him, immigrant tensions in Geylang were also bubbling under the skin. But because of the many 'beautiful ladies' there offering massages and other services, any grievance under the epidermis was soon salved. "Little India should have a Geylang. This way they think of enjoying and not make trouble. Kenna sai, their Desker Road so old like visiting your grandma. Heritage status liao. Must innovate, innovate!" When this reporter put to him that he spoke very good Singlish and wondered if he was Singaporean, Mr Pim slinked away not before saying, "Only PRC do bad things. Only PRC. Me not Singapore nang. Curry simbeh chow." Simbeh chow? Hmm....

At the rioting crime scene in Little India, two burnt out vehicles marked the spot. A stretch of the road also had long black marks as if an F1 race had just passed through. But that was in September and in Twin Durian downtown.

Madam Fong Sai Yuk, who lived nearby in Race Course Road, thought at first it was another festive occasion. "Aiyah, here every weekend also Black Ant Day. I thought it was another festival thingy. Sekali mata chia come yee-oh yee-oh. I stick my neck out to see. I saw the appu nei nei picking up things and turning this and that. I thought they were area cleaning as usual. Even when the fire started I thought it was Thaipusam again. Then the riot police came, again I thought it was play-play only. Sekali they beat people like real, like in some HK movie. Then I think maybe real. Then the TV news confirmed. But at first I thought it was the Noose, haha, funny show. But the chaboh very sui, so must be CNA. That's when I believe jeen eh (real one). Still I called my son in NS to confirm. Wah, by then siao already. I mean I siao, not Little India. What if my son kenna activated? Jialat. Only son. Sekali killed how?"

As Mdm Fong's eyes turned misty, this reporter quickly retreated and found Civil Defence commander, James 'Mr Good Eats' Tan, standing atop Mustafa Centre surveying the situation and nursing a masala teh tarik in one hand. What was your reaction, Commander Tan, given that rioting is rare in Singapore? "Might as well lah," he said, raising his glass. "I mean the teh tarik, heheh!" 

"You should try the chapati restaurant by Norris Road over there," he said, looking rather absentminded and pointing dangerously close to the riot crime scene, still smouldering from the attention given to it by his hose-totting men.

"Like I told that reporter Darren just now. Train, train, never use, Like married never go honeymoon. Don't know real situation will fire blanks or not. Always, wait wait, tan tan."

His Dy Commander, Sim 'Wayang' Mu Lat, who was in a car park with an IT consultant earlier when he received the call. "I was getting head, no, I mean I was getting ahead with my IT contract negotiations when my phone rang." He showed me his new 3G phone, a Sony Xperia. "Waterproof one, very suitable for fire fighting folks like us." He then leaned over and whispered, eyes looking a bit shifty, "Shh, IT lady give one. Off the record, ok?" Obviously, unlike Comdr Tan, Dy Cmdr Sim was very well trained in Media Relations.

Dy Cmdr Sim then straightened up and declared, in pseudo commanding voice, "Yes, yes, rioting in Singapore velly uncommon, like PAP losing in a General Election. Never happens. But my men, they are very well prepared. When not writing food blogs with our commander, they train like siao. As siao as our station cat catching rats, which is seldom. But still, a cat is a cat as long as they catch mice right? I think it was that China Deng fella who said that."

"Here at Home Team, we all dress like we ready to catch rats anytime. Blue, Grey, Dark Blue, Orange....doesn't matter what color. Home Matters Minister ah gong call, we go."

How was this different from the Hock Lee Bus Riots? 

"Huh? Oh, Hock Lee. Yeah. We always practice that one. See, bus crowded, train crowded, taxi cannot find. We know one day commuters will get so fed up and they will riot. Believe me, as in the Hock Lee bus riots, we are ready. Ready to clobber anyone who dare disrupt our World Class transport system." With that, Dy Cmdr Sim swung his baton a few times at some imaginary skulls for emphasis. There was a wild look in his eyes but it soon passed. It was replaced by the familiar look of utter boredom and expectation blunted once too often. This reporter has seen that look many times on reservist men, training for a war that was discussed but never came. The 'War Games Fatigue' look. Or that 'Army Waiting Time' look. One and the same.

Just then, Cmdr of Riot Police, Captain Tua 'Bare Knuckle' Gong walked up. Did he have an inkling of the trouble to come?

"Er, my men was playing carrom when we got the call. Did you know my unit won the division carrom championship? Good rite?"

"Eh, Sim, jiak ba buay?" said Captain Tua when he shook hands with Dy Cmdr Sim. "These guys fight fire, we fight people, heheh," said Captain Tua pointing to Dy Cmdr Sim and then pounding his fist into a palm.

"Sorry, what was the question again?"

Did you guys have an inkling if this was going to happ....

"Oh, yes yes, absolutely. We have men on the ground. We knew that it was going to happen. See that ambulance and police car that got burnt? COE almost expired, why we sent out those old vehicles. Burn nebermind."

"We also neber fired our guns. Wah lao, fire one bullet like spending MAS treasury money. Who want to do the paper work. Not me! Why I tell my men use fists and batons better. Somethings are better done the traditional way. We did away with the secret societies the same way. Hoot until they submit!"

When pressed on how the riot police knew what to expect, Captain Tua confessed that they have been monitoring a migrant worker NGO help group, that Black Ants Are Our Friends Too or BAAOFT, which some locals would call "fuck the ants off" in moments of anti-foreigner angst.

"We have a spy in there, so we know the issues."

"Low pay, long hours work....Haiz, any farmer's bull will also complain. Plus Singapore bosses like sai, you know. You got watch recent episode on TV or not? Work the employees never pay. You must pay the boss to pay you? Wah lau, where got such thing! Really really shameful. I Singaporean I also cannot tahan these people. Ren zha, scum. No wonder no Singaporean want to work these jobs. It's not the work, I tell you. It's those see nang bosses!"

Just then, Commissioner of Police, Wan 'Shiny Whistle' Ker Sum appeared. "Talking about me, Tua, izit?" He apologised for being late, having come from a carpark meeting with an IT consultant lady also. His whistle was dangling out of his pocket, recently shiny and a little wet. He quickly stuffed it back in.

"Heheh, no lah, sir," said a sheepish Captain Tua. "Government job best. AWS, year-end bonus, pak si also buay chow, heheh."

COP Wan, how do you see this issue?

"Oh, oh, back to this, eh?" COP Wan nudged, with a wink that oozed much Johnny-Come-Lately you-forgive-me, and a smile.

"A blip, I say. A blip."

"Will never happen again."

Sir, how come you so confident?

"Well, as in the recent bus strike, we will come down hard on these people. Come here work make trouble. That's not the Singapore Way. Here, people should work quiet quiet and go home and make babies in their high-asset apartments. It's the Singapore Way, I tell you. Work hard and Ah Gong will look after you. Ask any old lady at the kopitiam clearing dishes. Did we put a gun to their heads? No? Work is its own reward, I say. Singapore Way, Singapore Way."

With that, COP Wan walked over to Dy Cmdr Sim and draped a friendly arm around his shoulder. This reporter could hear them talking about a certain IT lady and the passes they got for the MBS Pangaea Club. Heheh, Diamond Drink Party Girls, zirconia can or not? With that, they disappeared into the lingering smoke of the Little India Riot, soon to be another insignificant footnote in the fast changing but orderly place that is Metropolis Singapore. Not far away, a car horned, impatient that the road had not been cleared up yet.

- A parody by TC Lai

Note about that S$32,000 drink: "The Jewel of Pangaea contains premium products such as the 1985 Vintage Krug; gold-flakes infused Richard Hennessy cognac; a smoked raw sugar cube infused with a mixture of apple wood, hickory wood and lemon wood and smoked infused Jerry Thomas bitters and most important ingredient of all the Mouawad Triple X 1-carat diamond.  The Triple X diamond has received the highest possible grading for its cut, polish and symmetry from its certificate-issuing laboratory."

Continued at: Little India Riot II - Alcohol Ban

More humor at: National Pledges; One Leg Left

Food Tasting at Waraku Vivocity

Ok, yesterday was spent food tasting at a new outlet of Waraku, a Japanese casual dining establishment that served not only food from the Land of the Rising Sun (or a version of it) but also some Spanish inspired ones. This outlet is located on the third level of Vivocity beside Marche, at a place nicknamed the Sky Park.

The occasion started off well. I arrived there fashionably late (about 10 minutes) and the SBM foodie group were already two and a half long-tables filled. Organiser Pang (Joo Lip) gestured for me to sit at Javier's table when all I wanted to do was sit beside Faye Chan. We had chatted only on FB and now finally met. Both of us are Cantonese and being the extinct species that we are becoming, I really wanted to explore some makan topics with her.

But Javier and her partner in crime, Nicosia, -as well as Jade and Jayne, turned out to be excellent company. They kept pushing leftovers to me. I dunno. My days of largess eating during NS were already long over, or do I still have the same hungry ghost face? In any case, it was done in good humor and it is always nice to be fed than have food taken away! I hate to waste food (especially veggies) and would finish up any remnant. The dishes yesterday all came in rather tasty sauces and so wiping the plate clean of any leftovers was rather "sedap" and "shiok".

Ok, so what's the verdict? Was the food at Waraku's new outlet worth the trip?

First off, according to Jeslin Ng, the Dy COO & Marketing Head of Waraku (which is part of the Wong San's group), this outlet of theirs at Vivocity is targeted at families and business. A rather strange combination given that the two groups seldom mix except on company Family Day.

But Faye's comment that the food was more for drinking (because of its perceived saltiness) got me thinking this morning that bite-sized dishes do indeed serve both clientele.

The difference lay in the presentation.

Besides, Waraku seem intent on being a business chit-chat venue by building three private rooms for that purpose. They seat 4/8/10 pax each. The restaurant itself could take 100, although how many will stand, I do not know. But the view outside is nice and would make for a pleasant, relaxing cocktail venue.

We were served the signature dishes first, a smart move as our taste buds were not yet adulterated by the many dishes to follow.

First up was Hekka Salad, a mix of pink/red salmon meat mixed with roe eggs and squid strips all drenched in some dark mirin-like sauce that was flavored with mustard seeds. The salad colors reminded me of the French Lorette salad.

It looked pretty and was delightfully light, a great way to start off a meal! The strips made the salad chopstick friendly and pretty soon, the top ingredients were picked clean off. The only complaint I have is that the lettuce at the bottom was a bit coarse cut. A bit of color and finesse (such as fine chopped oak leaf lettuce or radicchio) would have been better. Coarse lettuce made the dish look cheap. But how to finish off a raw seafood salad is not easy and something worth thinking about.

The next signature dish was Foie Gras Miso Yaki. This was smooth with the slightest hint of pan-fry. The sauce was apple sweet and adorned with green pearls that felt like naked mini grapes.On the whole, the texture was very very seductive! My only query is what I should eat the foie gras with. Japanese pearl rice? Toast? Something thin, deep fried?

We were next presented with the Ebi Miso, a grilled prawn split and laid in with what seemed like egg white, cheese and salted egg pumpkin sauce. Although looking rather small (not lobster sized) it was nevertheless buttery and creamy. I took bits off near the head and the taste was pretty rich. If this was made available at a BBQ, I would have gobbled down a few, never mind the cholesterol they would induce!

Next up was the Kurobuta Tonkatsu or breaded pork cutlet. On its own the pork was nice, not overly done. The brown sauce made a decent thing of the meat but it did not add excitement. The shredded radish condiment with sauce and mayo cooled the heaty fried taste, but I rather like a pork cutlet that has oomph, one that makes bold oink-oink statements on my palate. Perhaps I'm too used to the Cantonese pork cutlet ways. And the Kurobuta Tonkatsu reminded me of char siew. There are two types: white meat char siew and dark meat char siew. This KT was dark meat char siew, which would have been wonderful with a bit of yellow plum sauce or "lam yu" (preserved bean curd in sweet sauce).

Still, it could work as a good dim sum dish.

Now, with the signature dishes out of the way, the rest of the dishes lined up to be served like the Seven Dwarfs waddling in and making us wonder who is Salty, Sweet, Sour, Bland, Bashful, Coy and Sneaky. But not before we were given a tour of the premises. We walked past the kitchen and waved to the friendly chefs. Ms Ng then introduced each of the private rooms. They were simply furnished in cherry wood color and on the far wall, a piece of framed embroidery fabric that reminded of rich, traditional Japanese kimono designs.

The Teriyaki Cheese Chicken was well grilled and floated on a puddle of sweet dark sauce that cried out for some white rice. So I informed my fellow tasters and we ordered three bowls to share. The effect was immediate. Yes, the dish needed rice, Sherlock! On its own, the flavours were too strong. A kid will probably find the dish especially memorable (with rice). I can foresee one reminiscing about it in his later years. I had the same experience once with Kung-Po Chicken. A dish you wished your own mom cooked like, every other day!

Over the next half hour or so, we had Maki Volcano, Potato Mentai and Miso Yuzu Pork. Needless to say, MV looked to have been designed for kids. Our table was unanimous with the Potato Mentai, a baked gratin dish that was crispy on top, soft and moist with salmon and cream cheese in the middle, and lastly a bottom layer of potato done just right. I think it was a dish we all could polish off on our own...so good it was! It reminded me of a seafood ciabatta sandwich I had once in Dover, England. The flavours were at once crabby, salmony - all fused into one creamy paste (of course, minus the potato then). It was indulgent, like lying next to a fair skinned, soft fleshed beauty who has nothing but encouraging words to whisper into your ear while you masticated. (Note the correct spelling, LOL)

Now the Miso Yuzu Pork needs some careful handling. Why? Some folks liked it, some folks didn't: they found it plain. I could taste the difference in meat texture and some flavour, which I think would be lovely with beer, typically. But with the added brown sauce, the meat became overwhelmingly salty. I think eating bits of it does it no service. Yuzu pork must be eaten in chunks to be satisfying. It's like you don't pinch a fat lady, you hold her tight and wobble in her largess! And afterwards down copious amounts of beer to forget the experience (and grab the next fat lady). I would grow a huge moustache just to have beer drip down from it to look immensely satisfied!

As the afternoon drew long, the next dishes came quickly one after the other.

The next dish was the Ramen Tonkotsu, that soupy noodle with the three layered pork. A chef can almost do no wrong with this dish. It is one of my favourites aside from the one served with corn and seaweed. I can even say it is my comfort food! Finish a bowl and the whole world takes on a happier hue! This one from Waraku was competent but with a slight difference. The meat is cut up into small blocks like sio bak (local roast meat) - not the typical half-round shape where one could fold the sliver of meat into the mouth for that wanton, meaty feeling. Nevertheless, the fat and skin layers of the pork blocks were expertly done and QQ smooth.

The broth, to me, was, as usual, the same uplifting flavour expected from a good tonkotsu. I would, however, prefer a more generous presentation of veggie condiments atop the noodles. It would give the dish a less plain look.

Now, here comes the unique selling point of this Waraku branch at Vivocity. They serve up Spanish dishes too. Now upon our table came two pans of paella rice: one meat, one seafood. The rice in both the pans looked the same, fat and squishy grained. They tasted different though. The meat paella rice was somehow bitter. But really, both the rice in these dishes looked more like "lo mai fan" (i.e. Chinese glutinous rice) than the yellow paella rice I am familiar with. Odd. Do kids prefer them this way? Well, the meats on top were well cooked. Only the mussel in the seafood version was a bit overdone and rubbery at our table. These dishes were competent but not what I would call adult food. Adult paella I would demand a more faithful rendition like those from Spain; rather than this modernised 'city' version. Rural paella is altogether something else to behold! Ingredients peeking out from the rice infusing it with their own intrinsic flavours. Over here, the paella ingredients seem scooped on top, the rice flavour reminiscent of artificial seasonings.

I could be wrong as the dish was second last. By then we were too full to want to sample more or analyse further.

The last dish was the meat-kebab combi. There was Chicken Croquette, Kebabs and Tomato Meatball. We all found the meatballs salty. I think a better dressing would have been some yogurt concoction. It would then be perfect and luscious, diluting even some of that saline sharpness. Well, the meats looked more like dim sum for drinkers, so we were not surprised by their flavours. It's known that salty food = more drinks sold, haha.

Conclusion: Right, so what is the final verdict? Food-wise just let me say that what we were served and had sampled were but a small portion of the total menu; there were lots more to choose from. What we had were the best selling items. I can see why: many of them have delicious sauces and creams that make eating out memorable. But consume them too often and it becomes "jelat" and harsh on the palate. The food at Waraku Vivocity is better than decent, so I would give it a 8/10. It is food one should fill a whole table with so one could sample a bit of this and that, given too the a la carte size of the dishes. I would equate casual dining to Food + Talk, so bite-sized chunks would work in that paradigm. As for the Spanish dishes, I think the paella rice is a good Oriental link given our staple Asian diet, but really, a lot of more (I feel) can be introduced, especially the tapas sort. It would be great for casual business, walk-in diners too; those who want to eat a little, chat a lot. For families, a place perhaps to introduce some fine dining ideas to the young ones, slightly complex dishes they can experience and delight over. Or even try cooking for themselves at home.

End [Note: All pictures here my own, taken with a Samsung Galaxy S4 (not my usual cam but convenient!)]

Eat Well Stay Healthy

I would like to recommend these two books to further spread the understanding of the chemical processes inside our bodies. It will give you a good idea of how these these processes and nutrition are linked, how the body handles the intake and what happens when the body is overloaded with stuff it doesn't need.

The Acid-Alkaline Balance Diet book in particular takes a more holistic view. Many a times, we are what we are because our cultural foods have fed us so. If cassava root is your race thing, it'd probably be a good idea to keeping eating it. In other words, if you are Chinese, you probably have no problem consuming and digesting rice. 'Digesting' is a common term in the book. Anything not digested in your body becomes acidic waste which is often bad. And this waste will degenerate and breaks down to all kinds of undesirable stuff. It also robs the body of the energy and resources it needs for rebuilding itself. Hence, if you do not eat sensibly, you are not only depriving your body of nutrients, you are actually loading it with work it does not need.

I enjoyed the AABD book because it is informative on many levels. Plus, the case studies are excellent and will leave you dumbfounded. Serious illnesses, it seems, has be cured with a change in diet, even if it takes a while to take hold. I find the writer, Ms Kliment, to be knowledgeable and sensible. And she really digs into the whys and what-fors of how disease operates on our organs. The chapters on diabetes and cardiovascular disease are rather exceptional, as is the one on gall bladder issues. If you are not sure of what else calcium is good for in the body, read page 148 on Osteoporosis; you'll be surprised.

I have in the past reported and written about science and medical matters. Even I have learnt many things reading this book. What I gained most is seeing processes in our body clearer. Much much clearer (especially that chapter on nutrition and mental disorders - an uncommon topic). And if you are concerned about cancer (i.e. cells gone rogue), more the reason to read this book!

The Paleo diet I like because it can help a person lose excess fat quickly. I must admit, even though I eat the stuff recommended by its recipes, my meals often come with the kind of oils I do not need. Anybody who has eaten from a Chinese wok will know that to be true. And because my lifestyle has become more sedentary in recent years, those kinds of meals are a recipe for disaster in the long term. Plus, the excellent hawker foods we have in Singapore, that's just making things worse. Couple all these with a slower metabolic rate and you can see why in the last two years, my weight has increased quite dramatically. I've always been skinny but now I look robust. It's good because I used to feel cold as a skinny person and cannot be in a swimming pool for long. Now, with a layer of natural protection I rather enjoy lounging in chlorinated water. But the skinny person inside who loves competitive sport always sends me "Overweight!" alarms... and so, I would cycle long distance to lose any uncomfortable weight.

Therefore, do yourself a favor and check out these two books from your local library. Or download some of these e-copies to read on your tablet or smartphone. I can guarantee you these books are going to change and save your life, if not lengthen it somewhat.

Latest update (25-11-2013): Ok, just to give a balanced view, here is a great TED talk on what exactly is an ancient diet. Most veggies are different in the past. (But I do like the seafood part of the Paleo Diet. :-) Link: Christina Warinner debunks the Paleo Diet

Latest update: Article in Sunday Life (18 Jan 2015) reports that the Paleo diet is picking up interest. Even one hawker changed tack and started offering a Paleo diet-friendly menu. See pix immediately below.

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Course on Epigenetics

Of Batman and local elections...

This piece came about from an email of a friend who quoted from the Batman movie, The Dark Knight Rises, - "Structures can become shackles" and asked for my thoughts. Below is what came about.

Well, Andy, what I understand is that this film is quite different from the previous editions. It can be surmised by the kind of villains in it. The Joker, well, he tries to show that everybody has a weakness... is as demented as he is if provoked enough, pushed hard enough into a tight corner.

In The Dark Knight Rises, the villain is just as driven, only that his goal is a fight about class warfare, of destroying the greed and unholy edifices Man has built in his pursuit of greater wealth, power and control. Whilst the Joker seeks to infuse chaos in order to disturb, Bane creates chaos to decimate/to seek rebirth/to start again from ground zero. What that is, no one knows. Perhaps enlightenment? Like how Batman manages to cure himself of his funk suffered from miseries/self doubt in the previous The Dark Knight.

Are people who seek greater power, wealth, control - all fractured beings? Not the powerful/superior people they seem to be? Could they simply be afraid? Like the king who builds himself a castle to keep out the undesirables?

In a way, the movie is a cliché. Man has to defeat his inner demons to rise above fear to find his courage and purpose.

In the past, Batman might have donned his mask/cape as an obligation. He has to beat down his nemesis because he is Batman - superior in acrobatic skills and with his gadgets. He thought he had the moral authority.

In The Dark Knight Rises, Batman no longer believes that. He does what he has to do because he feels it is the right thing to do. Why if he has to die doing it? He is happy. This is how a true legend is born. A sacrifice that does not come with a prize (I uphold the moral good till the end) but is instead a gift. A
gift of endeavor to do right by others...even if it means giving up one's life.

This moral may well apply to the current elections happening. Why are these people serving? Because they think they should uphold the moral good that has been perpetuated by the incumbents? Or fight against the tyranny of the incumbents? Or simply serve because it is the right thing to do.

If that is the belief, how does that play with the electorate? What arethey expecting? Are they people in HDB apartments or people in their ivory condos? A class warfare? Yes, structures can be shackles. The point is to know how to live within structures and not be shackled. I think the last election had sent signals. This latest election has sent another.

The Dark Knight has indeed risen again to beat down fear, intransigence (more of the same) and renew hope. Heheh... ;-)

TC

Dwarves of Meno

[I came across this pix (above) on the Internet and thought it was rather funny, how the seven dwarves were called Itchy, Bitchy, Sweaty, Sleepy. Bloated, Forgetful & Psycho - after the symptoms of what some women go thru when enduring menopause. So, here is my version of the classic Snow White and The Seven Dwarves tale based on that. It is part satire. Do enjoy. :-)]

Snow White sat at the table and cried. She could not understand why Dwarf Bitchy would call her "cunt" again. She had told him time and again that it was an unkind word and shouldn't be used, least of all in her presence. It triggered bad memories with her stepmother Queen, who was cruel and liked to call her names, especially when her dad King was not around to hear them uttered.

Stepmother Queen had often used the word "cunt" when talking to her wide-screen LED Mirror TV equipped with 64GB onboard memory, a front-facing 3MP camera, 4G LTE wireless and Google Voice. She would say things like this to Google:

"Mirror mirror TV on the wall,
Who is the fairest of them all?"

And Google Voice would reply. "Why, it's Snow White, of course!"

Each time Stepmother Queen heard that, she would fly into a rage and shout: "That cunt! Of course she is fair. She's stuck in the castle all day. Meanwhile, I am the one who has to go out to work. Who went and died and left me this financial mess? Snow White's father! Why I can't even mention that cunt's name without flying into a rage!"

Google Voice would always attempt to calm her down. "I sense that you are upset. Do you want to have some ice-cream? My location adviser tells me that there is a Wall's ice cream truck parked nearby. Do you want me to ping them?"

"No! I want you to get rid of Snow White for me!"

Google Voice would then cluelessly reply: "Sorry, that did not quite compute. What do you mean by 'get rid of her'? Do you want me to send Snow White a Google Chat message to ask her to let you be for an hour or two?"

This only made Stepmother Queen livid. "You-goddamn-good-for-nothing-Google-TV-screen! Go check your Wiki Dict for that meaning, you son of a bitch!"

With that, she would then slam the TV screen to 'standby' mode and storm away. Half a day later, she would return and ask the very same question again.

In time, Snow White figured out that it was her GPS coordinates that gave her away. But switching it off in her Samsung Galaxy III smart phone did not help. Neither was hiding in some far corner of the castle. She was still the "fairest of them all". At least in that remote corner, she wouldn't be able to hear her stepmother call her "cunt". But the Queen's rage still reverberated within the castle's walls afterwards.

Although that had happened many years ago, Snow White would still shudder each time she thought about her stepmother. That woman after all did try to posion her with an Apple one time. It was an iPad Mini with a poison-laced screen. One swipe was all it took to send Snow White into a coma. She was just trying to answer a conference call. Turns out, it was her Stepmother Queen calling to trick her into touching the iPad and to gloat. "Hahaha...now you die!" was what she said before disappearing in a GIF cloud of smoke.

Fortunately, Snow White did not die. A passing karung guni man, who was actually a prince in disguise looked in and kissed her thinking she was the air stewardess girlfriend he once loved. By the miracle of his poison-killing saliva, Snow White lived. But the prince was then whisked away by some A*Star agents and locked away, some say in the deep research dungeons of Biopolis Park, where the nefarious arts of virus infection, distribution and incubation were being practised. The agents were keen to find out how his saliva could kick poison powder butt so well. So potent it was.

The prince, afraid of being tortured, spilled everything out. He related how he was at a sex orgy party late one night at a car park in Hort Park. It was held in a CNB "Party More, Less Drugs" campaign bus. At the time, high on drink, he had given tongue to half a dozen women as well as oral sex to a senior official there. If the agents wanted answers, the prince told them they should round up those people and take swab samples.

The agents took down his statements but also laughed at his ridiculous suggestion. No CNB official (and a senior one at that) would risk his reputation and pension to do something so wanton and perverse, they said. Who would be so stupid? they asked.

But the prince then retorted and said "Well, your scholars have a history of being peeps and perverts!" With that he got smacked across the face and fainted. Some say the prince then fell back and knocked his head, causing him to go into a coma. The irony! one of the agents familiar with the case noted. But outside, no one was sure if the prince was really in a coma or dead. Either way, the agents involved could still test him for an anti-poison antidote. They just didn't have to put up with his potty mouth anymore that's all.

=======

Back at the Dwarf cottage-hole, Snow White was still an emotional mess. Ever since she turned 40, her hormones had been giving her hell. One moment she was feeling happy; the next, she would crash with grumpiness. Then there were the sneezes and bashfulness (hot flashes).

"Bitchy had every right to call me a cunt," Snow White said, to no one in particular. "I haven't been myself lately."

But there was more between Snow White and Bitchy. Bitchy, you see, was actually a dike in disguise. Snow White and her had been carrying on a lesbian relationship for many years. Apparently dwarf women don't get menopause; they have always been that grouchy since puberty. Unruly facial hair is the norm too, why dwarf women were sometimes mistaken as men and brought down to the mines as well.

Of course, it wasn't easy to carry on a relationship with someone on the quiet in a small cottage-hole of eight occupants - Snow White included. The only person to know anything about it was Forgetful, who would always soon forget what he saw or knew. But he would still nudge-nudge wink-wink at Snow White each time, not entirely sure why he was doing that. Habit likely, was what Forgetful concluded. Like all his other involuntary actions such as masturbating beside the well (an event which he would also soon forget afterwards to the chagrin of the others. The well was after all common property and provided water for everyone!).

Like Forgetful, the other dwarves were also busy with their own issues to want to bother with Snow White and Bitchy.

Take Itchy, for example. He's too irritated by his own skin allergies to care about any other thing else. Sleepy was the same, almost always half awake only. Bloated would be chased out of the house because of his condition. He farted and burped once too many times, even when food and drink was being served. Now, he stayed mostly on his own in the annex tool shed. Sweaty was always sweaty and liked spending his time outside the confines of the tiny cottage-hole in a nearby hot-spring. He claimed it helps to cleanse his body of perspiration and odours. To find a permanent cure, Sweaty even resorted to TCM. He purchased a popular wooden tub from China for this purpose, a kind of personal sauna that steamed herbs really. That left only Psycho. But Psycho all along had Bipolar Disorder, so no one really took him seriously. If he said something controversial, someone would always retort: "Siao eh, ah!" or "Kenna sai, always talking cock!"

=======

Feeling slightly better, Snow White decided to talk to The Huntsman. He always knew what to say and do. It was he in fact the one who had saved her in the very first place when Stepmother Queen made the unusual request for her heart one Halloween night. She had claimed she needed it to complete a costume for a party. At the time, Snow White was but a wee Snow Flake and The Huntsman had taken pity on her and set her free in the forest. "Fly, you fool," was what he commanded when she had simply stood there unsure of which way to go. And fly she did, tripping over brambles and wild boars making love in the thick of night in the unfamiliar and largely scary forest.

It was then that she ran into Bitchy, half naked and seemingly admiring her own adolescent breasts under moonlight in what looked like an Elven Spell Circle of leaves piled in the middle of a ring of trees. Snow Flake was at first shocked to see a man-boy with breasts, but she also had been taught to expect the unexpected by her grandma who once lived in these enchanted woods. It was a pity that she died so soon and in such cruel fashion too, being eaten alive by a talking wolf. The Huntsman had come too late to save her. Maybe that' s why The Huntsman saved her from Stepmother Queen: He needed to atone for not being able to save Grandma White from that deceitful wolf. Snow White (as Snow Flake) still remembers that fateful day well. The Huntsman half-naked and glistening in sweat when he came running and swinging an axe, looking a little flustered and out of breath.

Snow White remembers Grandma White as being a skilled lady who could bake and ride a horse. It was she who first taught Snow White how to ride her first pony. It was also she who gave her a riding hood made entirely of soft red felt that she had sewn together. Her nickname for Snow White then was 'Red Riding Hood' - something Snow White liked but not loved. A menstrual incident later while out riding with friends (boys!) also hardened her dislike for that nickname. And when Grandma White died, she decided to let the nickname die with her. 'Snow White' was fine except it did not sit well with Stepmother Queen. That bitch would rather call her "cunt".

Snow White picked up her skirt and hurried along the forest path. The Huntsman cottage was just ahead and she could see smoke coming out of the chimney, meaning that The Huntsman was at home.

========

Snow White knocked on The Huntsman's door. A handsome man in his late 40s answered it. He was in lederhosen pants and topless. The Huntsman was obviously still in good physical shape judging from his six-pack abs and tight muscles elsewhere. If they caused Snow White discomfort, she didn't show it.

From inside, Robin Hood in tight pants, mascara and lipstick emerged. He too was topless and seemed to be in a funk, eyes glassy. Snow White wondered if the men had been 'wrestling' again, as The Huntsman once explained when she found them locked in some strange, tight embrace. At the time, the Wrestling Regional Finals were indeed round the corner and so she didn't think too much about it. But now....

Snow White blinked away those thoughts and invited herself in. The Huntsman could, after all, help her with her dilemma. How to calm a butch like Bitchy and keep their beautiful same-sex relationship going.

The End - by TC Lai