we were on the road, contemplating walking a little ahead and catching the taxi instead of the usual rickshaw-train route, when this half-man-half-crazed-american-colonel suddenly started walking beside us, appearing from nowhere and talking with these freakish sounds. he had mistaken us for somebody else. we were sure.



it was easier to be rude than convince him that he had got the wrong guys. i mean, we were not sure he would understand our ugly accent, our figures of speech. so we showed him the finger, jumped into the nearest rick. the rickshaw driver worried, stepped on the gas.

at the first (red) signal, the crazycolonelman is in the rick next to us. he continues with the moo talk and now he also has a little hand_gesture thingy going. had he mistaken us for somebody else? we were not so sure anymore.

“apocalypse now” we shout out, in chorus. yes! we’ve nailed it this time.

yourturn.


4 responses to “”

  1. Zulu Says:

    I like how the villian in this story is American, although he just as easily could have been Armenian. Indian bastards.


  2. scratchpost Says:

    i really enjoy reading zulu’s comments
    full points


  3. slew Says:

    Please. Don’t encourage her.


  4. Zulu Says:

    Go to hell you smarmy psychopath!


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