Hot Legs Niteclub's customers choke on preserved olives, saved by first aid

[Pixs of models for illustration purpose only]

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 [left pix], sitting beside him, says: “Because it's always erect!” She’s wearing a black bustier and a silver necklace.

“Well said,” Chow Kah says, flashing a toothy grin. He takes an olive [kana] from a platter of preserved tidbits and starts to chew on it.

Jessica laughs. “Because it has cute balls!”

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 asks: “Are you okay, buddy?”

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

“Goodness, he’s choking!” Hussein yells. “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.

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 a kana can be hum sup [lecherous]!”

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. 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 says. “You want Jessica to hug you, isn’t it?”

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

“Jessica, it’s your call,” Hussein says. “I’m going to pee."

“I know all your tricks,” Jessica [pix above] says to Chow Kah. “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.

Katar Singh [pix below], 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!

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

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

/end