Rambo III

After the ordeal at Fong Seng, Tb and company managed to make it back to NUS in one piece. Heaving a sigh of relief, the gang trudged back to the dusty small room to enjoy some air-con.

The excitement of the misadventure had not worn off; Tb and gang were reenacting the damn scene ad nauseum from different perspectives. A short time later, the adrenaline rush ran out and was replaced by fatigue.

2.30 a.m. The gang took turns to bathe at the 6th level toilet. Tb declined to immerse his body in the freezing cold water. Instead he chose to cut more cans with the rest who were left behind. It's just like a normal field camp day, Tb thought to himself.

By 3 a.m, everyone in the room was feeling sleepy. If they had not wasted one hour waiting like a kuku bird in Fong Seng, they might have cut 100 more cans. Like the rest of them, Tb removed his gloves and washed his hands off all dirt and metal splinters.

Initially, Tb had wanted to sleep across two chairs, but it felt too uncomfortable for him. In the end, he opted to sleep on soft mats with a large pillow borrowed from the nearby shelf. The company of heroes arranged themselves so that they do not end up kicking each other in the face. Snoring was almost immediately heard once the lights went off.

After a while, Tb crouched into a fetal position; he feared that stretching himself too much would cause someone to eat his foot in the morning. Four hours later, someone's alarm clock rang; the morning rays were already peeking through the blinds. Two of the original gang had to leave early for work.

At Tb's behest, the remaining souls decided to go to Engine Fac for McBreakfast. Their morale were slightly lifted with the luscious thought of delicious hot pancakes/egg sausage burger in their mouths.

When they had arrived, a sign "This outlet will only be open from 11 a.m" greeted the hungry wolves. Whatever excitement that was built up during the shuttle bus trip there vanished into thin air. With disappointment, they resorted to eating normal food to fill their stomachs. Basket, 11 a.m onwards means no $4.50 McBreakfast liao! Na@#$ come all the way here, Tb thought angrily to himself as he stuffed tau sa pau pieces into his mouth.

In the end, after their miserable breakfast, everyone else had other commitments to fulfil, leaving only Tb and two other guys to bring the screwed up lorry back to Bishan.

10 a.m. The lorry made its way from NUS to Bishan. This time, Tb was not roasted like a duck sitting at the back, he was now the second vehicle commander, with air con comfort all the way.

Finally, they reached some automobile shop. Seemed to Tb that the niche in the whole lane was vehicle parts. Under the blazing sun, Tb alighted with his barang barang. Tb and his other friend helped his driver friend to carry his barang barang as the latter went to find the owner to settle some issues, namely the screwed up lorry.

After finishing their business with the lorry workshop, the trio walked some distance to the nearest bus stop; Tb was by then listless. They had waited what seemed like eternity before the bus came and brought them back to Bishan MRT.

As expected, there was no seat for the two Easterners. It was a struggle even trying to stand throughout the journey, as Tb had found out, even with two hands clutching onto the metal bars.

When he had reached home, he let down his barang barang and took a nice bath, though it felt uncomfortably warm to him. He brushed aside the niggling thought and went to change into another pair of clothing, ready to leave his house to another friend's house to design a birthday card.

3pm. The lone figure alighted from bus 15 and ambled slowly through his friend's condominium. His black messy hair did not help matters; it absorbed more fricking radiation into his head. Damnit, is it me or the sun? Tb squinted as he tried to locate his friend's block under the glaring star.

When he had reached his friend's unit, the both of them were already busy cutting artwork for the handmade card. Tb felt unusually thirsty; somehow his thirst was insatiable, even after drinking his friend's winter melon tea and some water from his bottle. He also felt lethargic throughout; the simple task of pasting double-sided tapes and cutting letters exhausted him.

His two friends asked out of concern after seeing him trying to struggle for the past two hours. After much consideration, he decided to make his way back, leaving the house early.

5p.m. The second time he had reached home. This time, he headed straight for the freezer, obtaining an ice pack to soothe his burning head...