Encounter of the 'other' kind

Recently, I opened this very interesting bulletin on www.friendster.com. Just look at this:

Message: Message: do not stop reading this or something bad will happen.

One day, Sarah was walking home from school when her boyfriend drove by and honked at her to get in. She got in his car and he drove her to the lake. Her boyfriend said he was going to tell her something very important. Sarah could have sworn he was going to propose. However, he flicked her off, pushed her in the lake and yeled (sic), "I am braking (sic) up with you, you awful ........!! I hate you and I think that maybe you should just end your .............. life! DUMB ....................!!!"

He laughed and drove off. It was a very cold day. Sarah climbed out of the lake, freezing cold, and feeling the worst she had in her entire life. She got home went in a hot bath, and slit her wrists and died in the bathtub. Her parents yelled and screamed at her to get out until they finally broke the door down. They saw no body, but the entire bathroom was dripping with her blood. Her mom went insane and killed herself three days later, her dad is in prison, accused of murder. Later that week, Sarah's exboyfriend was taking a shower when she came from the drain, rotting and bloody, with a razor in her hand and said "Goodbye Jason."

She cut his throat before he could scream.

If you do not repost this with the title "1 scary way to break up", you are a heartless ..............and Sarah come to you in the shower from the drain, and will kill you the same way she killed her boyfriend.

You have 13 minutes

I did not, of course, stop reading from the beginning but something bad happened anyway, which was that I reached the end of the post and the threat therein. Darn those fellas who write such stuff. I'm not really heartless (serious!) but then again these days, my work routine is eating up too much of my life (including the heart) so I decided that I would NOT, in fact, repost the bulletin with the words "1 scary way to break up", as per instructions. Furthermore it was almost 3am. I blame the Property II written assignment.

Anyway, I shut the browser and went to the bathroom. I had barely taken out my Tesco toothpaste when I caught sight of this long-haired, somewhat unkempt figure in the corner of my eye. Could have been rotting, too, I dunno. My bathroom smells of rot all the time anyway, ever since the window sill ... urm, rotted.

At first I thought it was my housemate, perhaps woken up by me opening the door. "Oh, hi," I said. "Having a bad hair day today, eh?"

Suddenly the figure let out a deep moan and I realized that it was not, in fact, either of my housemates from rooms A or C. In fact, it was a rotting, bloody woman with a razor in her hand (though not bigger than the razor I used to be forced to keep for security in Halls of Residence).

"Yikes!"

After a moment's pause. "Oh, hello," I said. Better start with being friendly these days, especially in an inner-city housing area of London ... you never know. Especially to somebody with a razor in hand. There's just too many muggers on the streets these days.

"This is flat 16. You need help?"

Then the woman yelled at me. "You! Why do you talk so much? I was supposed to kill you the same way I killed my ex! 'Before he could scream' or say a word!!!"

"Well," I said, beginning to get a tad annoyed, "you can't really blame me you know. After all, I'm training to be a lawyer. As Lord Denning said, 'words are a lawyer's tools of trade.'"

She just stamped her feet on the ground and glared at me. Merajuk la tu. Then she turned to leave. "Eh, wait" I said. "I know ... you're the spirit from the Friendster bulletin!"

"It's taken you some time," she said, most icily.

"Well yeah, sorry lah ... my brain a bit tired from work ma". Eh, that means you're a real spirit! Way cool!"

"Not cool also," came the same icy voice.

"But no ... you see, since you're really coming back and communicating with us from the spirit world, you could tell us a lot of things we don't know!" I said.

"Like what."

This was beginning to sound like a typical MSN chat, but there you are. "For starters, you could tell us ... does everyone who die become a wandering spirit like you?"

"Hm. I dunno la. Maybe hor. I passed a lot of people whom I recognized as dead during my lifetime. For example Mao Zedong, Adolf Hitler, Stalin, Guevara, Botak Chin ... But maybe only those who had or did very unhappy things have to stay on like this. After all, I was ..."

"Yes I know your story," I put in quickly. "But your reply raises certain questions of logic. Firstly, if everyone who dies becomes like yourself, wouldn't your world be like waaay overcrowded with all the people who had died over the centuries, including for example Rameses III and his legions of followers, Caesar and his armies, Hitler and the German 6th Army, and 2,000,000 people who died during the Cultural Revolution? Do the dimensions of space and time apply to your world like they do in this?"

"And if only those who did 'very unhappy things' stay on, who gets to decide what counts as a 'very unhappy thing'? I missed the closing of an eBay auction by 2 minutes this evening, does that count as a 'very unhappy thing'? Is there an impartial adjudicator whose decisions affecting the public are open to review and appeal?"

"You ask too many questions-lah."

May be continued

The Consequences of Forgetfulness

I forgot to press the button
To cook the rice one afternoon.

For want of rice,
The meal was late
For want of a meal,
The seminar was lost
For want of the seminar,
The examination question was lost
For want of the question,
The vital marks were lost.

For want of the vital marks,
The examination was lost
For want of the examination,
The degree was lost
For want of the degree,
The career was lost
For want of the career,
The future was lost.

And all because
I forgot
To press the button
To cook the rice one afternoon.