If you haven't listened to Legend of Chin, put that on the top of your 'Next Switchfoot Album I'm Listening To Next' list. Oh. We're back. So as I thought for the third... wait. Does understanding Malay count as thinking? Oh well, as I thought for the third/fourth (it's up to you to decide) time, I came out with a plan. Slightly more complex, but I'm sure Albert Einstein wasn't really proud of my efforts. Here was the plan: We both (My brother was also dragged into this- but I did all the thinking) carry the table eight floors up, put the table in front of the tenth door on the fourteenth floor, leave an anonymous note on the table, ring the doorbell, and make a run for it.
And well, that was what we did. Well, not exactly. After about four floors up, I decided that the two of us carrying it up was taking two long. We had to coordinate with each other, and well, siblings aren't really good at that. So I summoned all my macho-ness, carried the table- and dumped it into the arms of my younger brother. Just kidding, I carried up a good ten floors to our destination. And there it stood before us. Door number 10. Woops. Wrong floor. Okay, I'll stop the kidding. There the door was. My arms were like jelly. (Sure, I had finished the 'Six Pack' campaign, but I was far from completing the other campaign: 'Solid, Strong Arms')
Okay, it went FAR from planned. Instead of even ringing the doorbell, I decided abandon my brother and make a noisy exit down the stairs. Which was made even noisier by my brother unleashing one of his world-famous screams. Until now, I still insist the next time he screams in public, the Cina ladies'll recognize his voice.
So we proudly, officially classified 'Project Coffee-table' as a completed success. Sure, I had to take another bath, (I forgot to mention, but 'jelly arms' usually come with pespiring) but that didn't take away a single drop of the joy of completing a highly classified, top-secret mission.
THE EN... Oh! What? Ah yes, I missed out the Optimus Prime bit. Anyway, even though 90% of them are wrong, (except for the one about Arsenal winning a trophy this season) here's a prediction: When Aunty Cina (yes, we'll call her that) opens her door and sees her glass coffee-table returned, she'll see an anonymous note attached.
Salutations.
My deepest apologies on mistakingly confiscating your table. I had no knowledge whatsoever that it was in possession of anyone. Maybe I could take you out for a cup of tea perhaps? To make up for this misunderstanding?
Sincerely, a gentleman.
NO. I'm Cedric Cha Jyoong. Let's say unless it's to pick up the almost extinct British hotties, I'd keep a distance from 'dainty' language. So the truth was, when Aunty Cina finds her table returned, she'll find your not-so-average anonymous note.
Dear Magaret(because i don't know your name)
Sorry for taking your top secret table.
I did not know that it belonged to someone.
Please don't call the cops.
-Optimus Prime
Until now I still do not know whether Aunty Cina understood the note, or whether she watched Transformers. But let's hope she doesn't keep a lifelong grudge against Awp-tee-mers Pryme.
THE END.
As Barney from How I Met Your Mother would say, "True story."
No comments:
Post a Comment