Friday, August 10, 2012
Nightclubber Hussein pays price for infidelity
[Pixs of models for illustration purpose only]
Jessica and Chow Kah enter the VIP Room with arms around each other’s waists.
“Where’s Hussein?” I ask, cracking Menglembu brand groundnuts.
“He’s not coming,” says Jessica, plopping down on the settee. “He’s in Tawakal Hospital.” She’s wearing a low-cut dress that displays a milky expanse of décolletage.
“I just visited him yesterday,” says Chow Kah, leaning towards Jessica. “Poor guy, some injuries to his weenie.”
Enter Wati [left pix], clad in a red dress. “It’s partly my fault. I shouldn’t have allowed him to take pictures of me using his cell phone.”
“What happened?” I take a gulp of Sapporo beer.
Wati leans back on the settee, crosses her legs. “Last week, he took some pictures of me. His fourth wife checked his cell phone and saw my pictures. She told the other wives and they decided to teach him a lesson.”
In my mind, I see a cinematic vision of the events that unfold as Wati relates the story.
Wife No. 1, Wife No. 2, Wife No. 3 and Wife No. 4 hold a meeting in Wife No. 4’s house in Kampong Baru to hatch a plan.
A week passes and Hussein goes to Wife No. 4’s house to spend the night. “Come darling,” Wife No. 4 says. “Let’s play dominatrix tonight. Allow me to tie you up.”
Hussein is delighted as it’s a new experience for him. Stripping his clothes, he lies spread-eagled on the bed, and Wife No. 4 ties him using parcel string. She springs into action and rides him hard for more than an hour.
“Untie me, I’ve had enough.” Hussein feels his manhood smarting from all the friction.
Ignoring him, she sneers. “You like that nightclub GRO very much, don’t you? Trying to sleep with that little bitch, huh?”
She opens the bedroom door, and Wife No. 1, Wife No. 2 and Wife No. 3 enter. Wife No. 1 and Wife No. 2 force open Hussein’s jaw. Wife No. 3 pulls his mouth wide, and Wife No. 1 takes a syringe and pumps a solution down his throat.
A day earlier, Wife No 4 went to Healthy Pharmacy, and bought two Viagra tablets and a syringe sans the needle. She put the tablets in a pestle. Thomp! Thomp! Thomp! Thomp! Using a pounder, she smashed the tablets to powder, which was mixed with a little water, and draw the solution into the syringe.
Wife No. 1, Wife No. 2, and Wife No. 4 exit the room, leaving Wife No. 3 with Hussein.
She waits until he is able to perform and plays cowgirl for an hour, while he protests vehemently.
From the bedroom out comes Wife No. 3 and Wife No. 2 goes in. She is welterweight, weighing 140 lbs.
Hussein pleads: “Enough, enough, I can’t take it anymore!”
For 30 minutes, the walls of the bedroom shake as if hit by a tremor. Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
She comes out of the bedroom with wobbly knees.
Enter Wife No. 1, [left pix] who is in the heavyweight division, her butt like that of a hippopotamus's. She weighs 210 lbs.
The walls of the bedroom tremble even louder. THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
Wife No. 1 ambles out of the bedroom, wiping sweat off her brows with a Kleenex tissue.
Wife No. 2, Wife No. 3 and Wife No. 4 enter the bedroom to check on their husband.
Hussein has fainted, his tongue sticking out of his mouth.
One leg of the wooden bed has broke.