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Thursday, August 23, 2012

Nightclubber Chow Kah gets roughed up by wife



[Pix of model for illustration purpose only]

Jessica, donned in tight jorts and bare-back top, enters the VIP room, settles down beside Chow Kah, and asks: “My goodness, what happened?”

Chow Kah’s face is covered with several scratches and his left eye is blue-black.

“It's because of you,” Chow Kah says, leaning forward to take the menu from the bottom shelf of the coffee table. “Last week, when you leaned on my shoulder, your lips touched my collar. You left lipstick stains on my collar.”

“You wanted it, didn't you?” Jessica pouts her red lips.

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just telling. Anyway, when I got home, I changed the shirt without noticing the stains. That night, when my wife was putting the laundry in the washing machine, she noticed the red smears. She was like a tigress, my God, she scratched my face and punched my eye.”

“I really pity you,” Wati says, snuggling up to Hussein.

“Actually, you should pity my Papa,” says Chow Kah.

“What happened to him?” I ask, popping a mozzarella stick in my mouth.

“The next morning, I went to visit my parents,” Chow Kah says. “My wife was still sore and didn't want to go. She went to visit her mother instead. When my Papa saw me, he asked what happened. I was ashamed of the truth. So I told him I was rolling up the bamboo blind in my back balcony, when it dropped and landed on my face.

"Papa was not convinced. ‘A bamboo blind cannot cause those scratches," he said. ‘They can only be inflicted by your wife. Tell me, son, what happened?’. So I told him I came to Hot Legs. Papa condoned my fling. He said going to a nightclub is a small thing, and advised I should not let my wife hen-peck me. He boasted loudly: ‘When I was your age, I used to go to those places, too. In fact, last week, I went to a hanky panky spa. I took two girls at one time. Son, you must show your wife who's the boss. Never be afraid of her.’


"Unfortunately, my Mama was in the next room and overheard everything. Enraged, Mama charged at Papa with a broom. Papa yelled ‘Outta the way, son! My own bamboo blind’s falling down!’ and bolted up the stairs to escape from Mama. Tough luck, Mama caught him and thrashed him with the broom.”

“Aiyooooh, pity the old man,” Jessica says.

From the door come the sound of several knocks, and an old man enters with a GRO wearing fishnet stockings and a bustier top revealing a wide expanse of creamy d├ęcolletage. His head is bandaged and his nose is squashed.

"Papa! What're you doing here?" Chow Kah asks, spluttering on his beer.

“I’ve already paid my price. Now I need to be compensated by a fling!” Chow Kah's father says.

/end

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