Mr. Foo Wung Choo was transferred to a mental facility last night. ‘I was fucked over by a foreigner.’ His ancestors use to be foreigners themselves. His divine Chinese right of receiving money was violated. I played my part.
Pan to interior of police station, and a sad Chinese tune playing on the radio,’I was fucked over by a non-Chinese.’
‘Ok it’s time to come to Jesus for a heart to heart,’ said the female police officer.
‘We frown upon this behaviour,’ she added. ‘Harassing tourists is ruining Malaysia’s reputation.’
‘But he owes me money,’ said Mr. Foo Wung Choo who was frothing at the mouth. He had lost nothing, but in his mind he had lost everything.
‘Does he?” asked the officer. ‘But don’t you owe him three weeks rent he never used?’
‘But I’ve got a copy of his passport.’
“We know, you got it off the hotel he was staying at, another breach of the law.’
‘But he owes me 300 Ringgit for the taxi ride to the border and back.’
“He paid you 100 for the fuel in good faith and never took the return part of the ride. And did you know charging taxi fees for a private car is another breach of the law?’
Mr. Foo Wung Choo started frothing again. ‘I know now, but I’m still going to to fix up that upstart.’
‘By all means,’ said the police officer.’But it’s not going to be easy to orchestrate that. You are now arrested for harassment and intent of grievous bodily harm on a tourist’s life.’
‘Malaysia really shuns that kind of thuggery behaviour,’ said the officer, as she closed the cell door on Mr. Foo Wung Choo. She said watch out for the Foo Wung Choo network. ‘They are connected by love of money. It’s in their blood and they’ll do anything to retrieve what is theirs or not even theirs.’
I flashed a grin to Mr. Foo Wung Choo. ‘Where my money, where my money.’ He had lost the plot, again.
I blew him a kiss and said, ‘I’d love to make love to Ziggy Star Dust too, but it aint going to happen.’