Saturday, December 19, 2015

Chow Kah chokes on an olive, seeks first aid from Jessica!

[Pixs of models for illustration only]

Lips upturned in a grin, Hussein asks everyone in the karaoke room: “Do you know why a Christmas tree is better than a man?” He cracks a Menglembu groundnut and pops the seeds into his mouth.

Wati (pix above), sitting beside him, says: “Because it's always erect!” She’s wearing a blue satin dress with plunging neckline, and the scent of jasmine wafts from her perfume.

Chow Kah slaps his knee. "Well said!” He takes an olive from a platter of preserved tidbits and starts to chew on it.

“Why is a priest like a Christmas tree?” Hussein asks again.

Jessica steps up to a Christmas tree (pix below) and holds a silvery ball. “Their balls are only for decoration!”

I chortle with an olive rolling on my tongue. Suddenly, the little rascal slides into the back of my throat and I choke: “Hack! Hack! Hack! Hack! Hack!” I bend forward and slap my chest repeatedly.

Chow Kah sits up straight. “Are you okay, buddy?” 

I can’t speak or cough and I feel blood rushing to my face.

“Goodness, he’s choking!” Hussein's voice rises to a frantic yell. “I’ll perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on him!”

He springs to his feet and moves to the centre of the room. “Stand up, quick. Here!"

I do as he tells me. From behind, he places his arms around my waist, and forms a fist with one hand. He grabs his fist with his other hand. Grunting, he delivers a few powerful upward squeeze-thrusts into my abdomen (pix below). 

The olive flies out of my mouth. It hits the glass top of the coffee table and ricochets into Wati’s cleavage!

“Eeeeeeek!” Wati squeals. “I never knew an olive can be lecherous!”  She shoots me a look that jerks a hook in my heart, almost reeling me in. 

Chow Kah laughs with his mouth wide open like a clown: “Huahaahaahaahaahaa!”

Wati wriggles her fingers into her cleavage to remove the rugby-ball shaped rascal. Her cheeks blushing with a tint of rose, she tosses it into the waste basket.

As I'm returning to my seat, Chow Kah grabs his own throat and starts to cough: "Haff! Haff! Haff! Haff! Haff!"

“Come on, Chow Kah, stop pretending,” Wati (pix below) says. “You want Jessica to bear-hug you, isn’t it?”

Chow Kah does not answer but continues to cough: “Haff! Haff! Haff! Haff!”

“Jessica, it’s your call.” Hussein rises to his feet. “I’m going to the washroom to pee." 

“I know all your tricks, darling,” Jessica says to Chow Kah, her eyes tender with affection. “You want me to hug you but I don’t know that Heim – Heim – what?” She leans forward and spears a hotdog with a tooth-pick.

Hussein disappears into the washroom. 

Chow Kah bends forward and his face turns blue. His eyes look as though he bought them from a joke shop. 

“Jesus Christ! He’s not pretending!” I holler. 

“Somebody! Help!” Jessica yells, holding the hotdog in mid-air.

“Our customer’s choking to death!” Wati shouts, rising to her feet.

Raghbir Singh (bottom pix),  a security guard who's walking past, rushes into the karaoke room. He makes Chow Kah lie facedown on the coffee table with his head dangling over the edge. Then he holds his hands together, brings them above his head and hammers Chow Kah’s back! Oh my God! The blow rattles the walls of the karaoke room!

“Ptuui!” Chow Kah gasps as the olive flies from his mouth straight into Jessica’s miniskirt.

“Arrrrrrrrrgh!" Chow Kah groans. "My back! Arrrrrrgh! My back!” 


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