We are having  a Nescafe at a quiet park in Perth full of drunk abos. The rain is pelting down, but we don’t give a fuck. But we are keeping an eye on  the boongs. One of them yell out to us. “Go home you white dogs.’ As soon as their flagon of cheap wine is gone, they’ll come over and hassle us, I tell Wan.

“The Chinese hate us,” says Wan, my straight shooter Malay friend. “And there are  too many Chinese Malaysian  in Perth.’

 He says this park is the  only place you won’t see them. ‘Too many boongs for their liking. They think we Malays are bad. Well the local abos make us look like saints in comparison.’

Wan says the Chinese Malaysian come to Australia to escape the persecuted by the Najib government. ‘But they really are here to earn Australian dollars just like me. But they always have to put their little devious spin on things.’

I said the only persecution they were receiving was a GST tax, “The 3 percent must be killing them’ I said.  We both laughed.

Wan is an ‘illegal’  himself and has been  working on a farm for the past few years. He’s saving up for his wedding next month.

He says he’s been hounded by Chinese Malaysians while living in Australia. “They  run the fruit picking cartels, only employing their own kind,’  he says. ‘They really resent the fact  that a Malay can work illegally too.’

He says he’s been run off a few farms already. ‘Chinese will only take care of Chinese. It’s so stupid. We are all Malaysians at the end of the day.’

He says  the Chinese Malaysian have a  monopoly on the illegal work scene in Australia too. ‘They can always get work from dodgy mainland Chinese who own  many businesses and  farms in Australia.’

He says because they speak Mandarin, ‘it’s their ticket to ride,’

He says they currently  have a monopoly on  Malaysia’s economy. ‘So when they see a Malay making real money in Australia,  it really pisses  them off. They have saying, every job a Malay gets is a job their own tribe don’t get.’

He says the Chinese Malaysian hate everyone.’ They even hate their own kind when they lose on  a business deal. You won’t ever hear about this. We only say it in whispers. There’s a war going on. The Chinese use the law to quieten us. The first point of contact by visitors are the Chinese run hotels. And the Chinese run bars and brothels. They speak English very well. Then the Indians are spreading bad words about us too. They are snakes and usually follow the money. The Chinese have  the money. We don’t. Now it’s the Chinese and Indian against us, and all the illegals who work for the Chinese. They hate us too. The Chinese propaganda machine is almost complete.’

I hear this often. It’s not a one off thing the Malays tell me. Is this being reported in the news?  ‘Never,’ says Wan. “It falls under the sedition act and the Chinese and Indians know their rights  too well. One  suggestion of racism,  and they are up our asses like hyenas on an excursion to Shitville.’

The rain is now coming down in cats and dogs and a tribe of abos want to bash us up for not giving them change. Wan suggests we hit a Malay noodle shop. ‘Its owned by Chinese Malaysian. Let’s play spot the illegal  workers.’

No,it’s not the Malay noodle shop that employs Chinese, I said. It’s Subways. Now try and spot a Malay working there.

‘And try and spot a Chinese Malaysian working in a Subways in Malaysia,’ said Wan.

‘And most of them are working on student visas. Not like you, you  skelly wag.’

We were making progress.

Only if you are shouting, I say, as I brush off a few dirty abos who really want me dead.

‘The boongs are just like my Chinese cousins,’ says Wan. ‘They are hungry for money too.’

They certainly are, I say, as I quickly  kick one of the approaching  abos in the balls,  and taser the other two. ‘They’ll think twice about attacking me with broken bottles,” I  said.

One thing I can say about Wan, he’s integrating very well in Australia. Soon he’ll be swearing like a true blue trooper.

He’s on the forefront of racial policy, and is trying his best to debunk the lies of the Chinese. ‘They are even doing the same shit  here they do in Malaysia,’ he says. “Enough is enough.”

‘I know,’  I said. ‘I had heard the same well treaded arguments when I was there.’

I handed Wan my taser. ‘It might come in handy.’

Wan says he isn’t beating up the story about the Chinese Malaysians. ‘I know them on intimate terms,’ he says. ‘I  use to work for them in Malaysia. I’d move drugs and whores for them in their karaoke bars. I was their fall guy a few times.’

He’s  holding onto the taser for now. I can see he’s itching to use it.

‘These boongs  can be very  agro when they don’t have booze,’ he says. ‘But at least they can fight their own battles. Not like the Chinese who hire other people to do their dirty work.’

He says they  usually  hire the Indians.

 I look behind me at the three boongs passed out in the park. ‘The police will think they are just drunk.’

I also look at the other five making their way towards us quickly. Family members I guess.

Wan did a 160 degree turn, as five other boongs were descending on us like an avalanche. They dropped like turds.

“Serves you right for waving broken bottles at us,’ said Wan to the moaning turds  doing very good renditions of spasms.

Now I can see why the Chinese are shit scared of the Malays.

‘When provoked, we do stick up for  ourselves,’  says Wan, who admits Malays are so  passive most of the time. ‘But when the push comes to the shove, our…’

‘Tasers come out?’

‘And then it’s time to  run amok. And that’s what the Chinese fear most.’

Wan has been banned from two Chinese Malaysian run back packers in Perth. ‘And they call us racist in Malaysia. They are certainly playing catch up here in Australia.’

You were banned because you were caught smoking legal weed.

‘Oh,yeah,’ said Wan.

Malaysia doesn’t have the monopoly of racism either,I said. “I’m banned from most  back packers around Australia just because I’m an Australian citizen.’

‘And because you don’t shower,’said Wan.

We both agreed it’s an ugly world out there.

‘But having ol’ sparky around can certainly take some of the sting out of life,’ I said.

‘If we didn’t take the law into our own hands, we would have either been dead or badly injured today,’ said Wan.

‘Arming citizens with a taser gun might just make the bad guys think  twice about what they are going to do,’  I said as I pissed on the boongs moaning  on the ground.

‘But tell the politicians that,’ said Wan who let ol’ sparky fly. The  local thugs writhed some more.

‘They were asking for more piss,’ I said. ‘And they got it.’

I’m really a white dog.  We both laughed again. Racism is a two way street.

Wan  is  one switched on Malay. I think Australia is bringing out his  inhibitions.  Before we hit the Chinese Malaysian  restaurant,  I say I’ll take care of ol’ sparky.  ‘I just don’t want you  getting excited like a  certain Malay Sultan did in the 1800s.’

He  use to kill any  Chinese caught gambling. One night he killed ten of them. But though he  confessed it was bad, he just couldn’t resist the temptation of slashing their throats.

‘But it did weigh heavily on his conscience,’ said Wan.

Yes, I said, ‘that he didn’t kill more of them.’

Back at the guest house, we run into Vincent, a Chinese Malaysian. He’s the nicest guy. He’ll feed anyone who is short of a meal. He’s been working illegally for the last three years, and is saving up to open a karaoke bar in Kuala Lumper.
The recent demonstrations in Malaysia are worrying him. ‘If any Malay wants to fuck with me here in China town, then bring it on.’
Our guest house is in China Town. Wan handed Vincent a pipe. They were both addicts of the legal stuff sold at the sex shop. Soon they were both nodding off.
Race equality under the legal weed. It really worked wonders.
Vincent and Wan are still nodding off. All they care is that they are in Australia and getting fucked up without having to worry about the police busting them.
Play by the rules my little Malay brother, I said. ‘Play by the rules.’
Wan was deported last week. His wedding went very well. ‘Now I’m working in a factory,’ he said. “But it’s a lot better bet than being the fall guy for the Chinese.’
And alot safer for you and your family. I suspect Wan is still in hiding for some of his earlier dodgy transgressions.
‘Yes, I am,’ he replied. ‘The Chinese have a hit on me for stealing their stash and selling it.’
That sounds about right.

Check out Valium Daze.


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