Wednesday, January 25, 2006

My friend Botak

I have a confession to make: Hanging out with Botak, my good friend and basketball kaki, is a certain recipe for disaster. All it fucking needs is a catalyst and a trigger, and BOOM, the rest of the world will regret we ever met.

Imagine if you will, two of the most hyperactive, shameless, thick-skinned, infinitely mischevious people EVER, and then imagine that they both have voices loud enough to hurt your eardrums if put to use, imagine also that they both love women, have a common penchant for playing practical jokes on everyone nearby, and the need to disturb anyone nearest to them whenever they get bored. Now imagine that they click like fucking lego blocks the first time they meet and discover that the other is as crazy as he is.

Imagine, finally, that both are immensely intelligent but so kiasu and have balls so big there is not a dare that you issue that they will back down from.

That's what it's like with me and Botak.

We only haven't gotten into serious trouble till now because of my marginally cooler head and his natural, intangible charm with people and his ability to judge them. It's like walking on the far side of the knife edge, and I've had to rein him in sometimes when a fight was imminent, but only because I knew the other guy would fucking die if it happened.

When we're having fun however, OH MY GOD WHAT A BLAST!!!!

We were at The Chick Showroom again tonight after dinner together, ignorant of the incessant calls in the back of our minds that we were hanging out way too frequently, endangering society at large with our overactive minds and instinctual need for havoc.

He had just told me how he had come down from his car to stare down an idiot driver he had given the finger to. I in turn told him about my brush with danger today when I also middle-fingered this moron driver who cut into my lane very dangerously and realised suddenly that there were 4 of them in the car, all mechanic types. Too late to regret, since I had very obviously given them the finger, I drove past the 4 punks with the most malevolent, bengis, trouble-making stare I could conjure, in order to make them think twice about stopping the car and rearranging my beautiful face. Luckily it worked and they backed off.

Oh, before this, you should know that the idiot Botak was having the time of his life on the ballcourt waiting for his turn to play, mercilessly teasing these two young girls who were watching the game(we didn't know the girls). After they ignored him for saying "HI!!!!" in an extremely loud, obnoxious kwai lan voice repeatedly, one of them walked over to talk to a young kid on the other side of the court. The fucker Botak immediately shouted from this side,"OI!!!! THAT GUY ALSO YOU WANT AH!!!! I'M MUCH BETTER LAH! I GOT MONEY! I GOT CAR! HE GOT OR NOT?!?!?"

She ignored him of course, but Labiq, a friend of ours who was plainly shocked at such public mating behaviour, managed a loudly whispered "wei. don't like that lah!!" in mortification because he was sitting beside Botak. Finding a new victim, Botak turned and scared him. "I tell you, luckily Khai Tzer playing ball. If he's beside meeeee.......... we're going to have SOOOOOo much fun! WUAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!" Labiq promptly shut up and turned green in horror, afraid that I might decide to abandon my ballgame and join in the "fun".

So anyway, we were at the Chick Showroom, and the next table had a party of four, 3 girls beasts and a guy. One of them had an extra-bestial face. She had a hot bod, and looked like a knockout from behind, so of course Botak was giving her the blatant up-down of her posterior.

I whispered "model from behind"(the code for the deceptive women who looked amazing from behind but were beasts from the front. He calls them "transformers", which is probably a more accurate and funny description).

"Really ah? But look OK what."
I shook my head. "Serious."
"Hah? Oh.......... Transformer ah?" and we cracked up laughing. Her back was still facing us.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAH. Yeah transformer! NO NO NO NO NO NO!! Decepticon!!! WUAHAHAHAHAHHAAH!!!"
"tuh tuH NUH TUH NUH!!!!" I sang the theme music loudly and we both cracked up again.

At that exact moment she turned around. By god, she was a beast. Big, acne-scarred pockmarks on an otherwise bland face. When she smiled she actually looked worse, and I don't even mean this in a spiteful way. She had crooked, jutting teeth. It all jarred horrendously with the image any guy(i.e. Botak) would build of her from behind.

Botak turned back to look at me with a genuinely shocked expression, together with a massive dose of disgusted revulsion. He looked so funny with his mouth open that I couldn't help laughing again. Luckily the poor girl didn't know what it was all about.

Botak said in a frantic whisper,"wahhhhlau! look like my garlic naan like that!!" while pointing to the garlic encrusted bread we had ordered. "Fucking pizza face man! Extra pepperoni!"

I gave him an exasperated, disappointed look. "Where can say like that one you......." as if to admonish him for being an insensitive clod. He was starting to look ashamed when I finished with "............ why you simply go and insult the garlic naan?"

WUAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. We almost died of laughter. Later, we saw they were celebrating one of pizza-face's friend's birthday with a cake. The 4 of them seemed like really gentle people, and were on a quiet friends' night out. When they whipped out the camera and asked the mamak waiter to take a picture for them, we considered sneaking behind and planting our asshole faces behind them with spastic expressions, but gave up because at that angle they would have caught us.

And then. And then.....

And then we hatched the maddest scheme of the week. Botak was to calmly walk over and violently smash his face into the birthday cake, Jackass-style, and then run madly for cover while I ran out to my car and picked him up from the corner of the next block. I looked over and gave up on it immediately because they looked like nice people, unfortunately, and not young punks. Also, the birthday girl was already crying because she was so touched at her friends' love for her. Botak however, was psyching himself up, hands gripping the side of his aluminium chair, breathing rapidly and deeply, eyes darting here and there erratically, searching for escape routes and possible obstacles.

"Oi! Oi! She's crying already. And they're all gentle people. Don't do it." I said firmly. "Some more I not yet pay the bill."

Luckily he calmed down, and we made our way out of the place with our dignity and someone else's birthday cake intact.

And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is a typical outing with my friend Botak.

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