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A very crappy post. No relation to any person or organism currently
living or has once lived. Any coincidence is regretted. Once you
have read this, you are assumed to have assented to the Terms and
Conditions and you will be obliged to abide by it, unless given
extenuating conditions.
MAY BE OFFENSIVE so
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!
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Stampede Ruffles was an angmoh (Caucasian) trader who
happens to be an average salaryman in some bank in some white
country. Life sucks because the oil prices was being jacked up
daily and the crimewave from the nearby ghetto is getting
worrisome. With the opening of Sueyz
Canal, direct sea travel to the East was made possible.
In case you are wondering, airplanes exist only for the rich and
priviledged, something with Mr. Ruffles can ill-afford.
One day, the East Indian Conglomerate
(Oost-Indische
Compagnie) decided to relocate the entire bank to
the Middle Kingdom in
the Far East. Ruffles had never heard of such a country.
The entire staff protested against the management's decision but to
no avail. The bank relocated to capitalize on the Middle Kingdom's
perceived growing financial and economic clout. According
to experts, Middle Kingdom is set to grow at double digit rates and
will rival the West in economic terms, by extrapolating its growth
in recent years. Funny how these experts in extrapolation failed to
extrapolate the oil price going past 100 francs, given all the
indications.
Too bad for Mr Ruffles as he returned home with a pink slip.
He wondered why did the buck-toothed, near-sighted, tiny (yes, tiny
everywhere...) gooks get the jobs. Aren't they supposed to
be the "White Man's
Burden"? Mr Ruffles was displeased, but at
least he got a decent Voluntary Separation Scheme (VSS -
severance package) but most of the staff (who are forced
to work on contractual-basis, therefore not eligible for
any welfare or VSS) got nil.
He decided to go backpacking around the world to "learn more
about the 'people' that populate the world". But he blew his
VSS money on a night of binge drinking with the entire bank staff
in a pub to drink away their sorrows. So, before his bank shuts
down, he borrowed some money. Not having any thing to mortgage, he
had to resort to subprime
lending, and bankrupted the bank inadvertently
before the bank could relocate (since he couldn't repay).
Now, the time is nigh for Stampede Ruffles to flee. Flee from
creditors whose pay is dependent on how successful in nabbing
Ruffles. He got onto a steamship headed to a random location in the
East. However, due to some incidents involving two hijacked
steamships being forced to slam into Tames
Bridge, security is so tight that Swiss Army knives and
liquid bottles were not allowed. Somehow he sneaked in and became a
stowaway. There, he grabbed an empty seat and whiled the hours away
watching a B-grade flick called Kehidupan Seorang
Pramugara Yang Terlampau, a Malayan
blockbuster.
Soon the ships reached the island of Sinkapore. Mr
Ruffles couldn't even afford a Swiss army knife for defence against
the head-hunters, let alone a full life insurance scheme.
He was gripped with fear.
Upon reaching Sinkapore, he was shocked to see
some heads perched atop a pedestal. Headhunters!!!!, or so
Ruffles thought. In reality, these used to be attached to punks who
were vandalizing state property because they were pissed at the
government systematically discriminating them. In reality,
they chose to drop out because they were bored of schools, feeling
rebellious and wind up with kids at 16, hence are unable to lift
their living standards. Apparently the effete Sinking Police
Force failed to take care of this (they can't even locate a
short, limping
guy on the loose) and the ever-efficient Kempeitai took care of these
rebels with their honourable and noble samurai swords,
keeping the streets safe. Ruffles knows he is in safe hands.
Ruffles decides to set up a little
kopitiam (coffee shop) selling Western
food to make a living. Like the Orientals who set up Chinese restaurants
and Chinatowns everywhere they go, even if there are
only two of them. The little business soon took off, as everyone
came over to see the ang moh, never mind if the food is
pricey. "The cook's a Westerner; henceforth the food is good"
"Western concept is always better than our concept"
"Foreign talent; we must learn and change our ways" were some of
the comments that he has received. Any brickbat would be deemed as
racist and the Kempeitai would be called in to slap the
recalcitrant bloke.
Business soon grew, but over the period of month, the
Straits Government wanted to re-develop the place.
En-bloc sale, then the whole place is gone. General
Lee needed to built a night horse-cart racetrack
for the prestigious Formulae One, but the shoplots were in
the way. Besides the Government has a strong urge to build
Circle Underground Line, which is blocked by these shops.
Some of the shopkeepers protested but were quickly hosed down by
the Riot Police in Red Cars. Of course, no media
personnel is allowed to be there.
Ah Tiong said, " We don't want our shops to be taken away".
Kaninasamy reasoned, "It is illegal and we did not assent to this
en-bloc sale". Lim Peh and Lau Pek echoed their
sentiments, showing their valid contracts as proof. General Lee did
not take heed. All he did was ignore them.
Ruffles went over and said "We don't want our shops to be taken
away; it is illegal and we did not assent to this en-bloc sale"
(Note: observe the similar word usage). General Lee was
awed by the towering Caucasian's intelligence and he listened to
him. They sat and discussed this issue. Soon, General Lee halted
the demolition of the shoplots. However, a change of heart meant
only Ruffles's shop is spared; the locally-owned shops would have
to go. Ruffles's shop, by virtue of being run by a foreigner, is
better in every sense and has more 'class', since a foreigner tends
to be 'smarter' anyway. "This is meritocracy!" General Lee
argued.
Soon, it is time for Ruffles to get hitched. Getting partners was
never a problem for Ruffles, who has girls lining up to date him.
After all, he's the man. He's different from the lame,
ugly, un-macho Chinaman anyway. A Chinaman is too gentle and shy,
traits taught by their moms in order to be 'good men'; never mind
that these ladies eventually decide to join the queue to date Mr
Ruffles. After all, Mr Ruffles is always better than a
Chinaman in every aspect, claims the girls. Gentle Mr
Ruffles = well-liked gentleman but gentle Chinaman = despised
sissy? Ruffles doesn't understand the double
standards but he enjoys the attention. For once, he never
needed to bother about his looks, care for his weight, etc...; a
fat and balding Ruffles is still the man.
Mr Ruffles meets a girl called Shilpa who
happens to be a young undergraduate. Shilpa's prowess in Math
astounds Ruffles, since he never paid a single damn attention to
Math class. French is a language that
can't count so Ruffles's math is crap. They started to
go out, and things looked rosy. Until one day....
They were making out in the underground train, when suddenly she
stopped. "Why did you stop?" he asked. "Please pay up your incurred
cost of £695.50, which is £130-an-hour, for five hours,
inclusive of 7% GST. Ruffles was flabbergasted, but he had
to pay before he could proceed to second base. Never had
he met such a calculative woman before, but hey, she is a
Mathematics undergraduate. He never expected to pay so much, simply
because he looks like a foreigner ready to be fleeced.
And so, Ruffles did NOT live happily ever after... he decided to
return to his home country since he has worked so hard but he
realised his money is all locked in the Central Piggybank Fund
(CPF), which means he would end up working menial jobs when he gets
older. Money can be withdrawn if you're lucky enough to live to a
minimum age before the goalposts get shifted further. He
couldn't envision working under the "White Man's Burden"
so he left. And Ruffles left, leaving a colorful footprint in the
annals of His-Story.
The End.