Bukit Damansara. The height of luxury.
For the consummate connosieur of rich rental such as Lord Amir Hafizi, nothing is acceptable unless it has a motorised autogate.
With the flick of a button, the gate miraculously slides away, allowing for the passage of such vehicles as the Kelisa, the Honda something-something and of course, the greatest car in the world - a car politicians would kill for - the Toyota Camry.
And with the depression of another, similar button, the gate swings shut! Ah, life in the luxuriously pampered Space Age.
Situated just five minutes from the less-affluent yet full of sluts Bangsar, the motorised autogate also comes with a three-story comparative mansion. Comparative because compared to Lord Amir Hafizi's previous haunts, none has a courtyard. Or even a lawn.
There is a huge refrigerator, which houses some of Lord Amir Hafizi's delightful delicacies. Such as smoked sausages, and soy milk.
"The heathens frown on these," said his liege. "They have an affinity to bananas which I find quite disturbing. Loaded with fibre they might be."
The cabinets, meanwhile, are stocked with the greatest instant noodles ever created by man - Myojo Mi Goreng Pedas.
"I discovered a cache right there in lowly Bangsar. Aheheh. So naturally, I bought all I could find."
And oats. And bran.
Lord Amir Hafizi spends his time arguing with Government bodies and Opposition cadavers as he fancies himself a post-modern necrophile.
After moving to Bukit Damansara, he also finds sporting time to laugh at poor people.
His enviable fortune resulting from a raid on PTPTN, his liege dreads the time when he will one day pay them their dues.
"It's a terrible business, I say! Terrible business! Not 'alf!"
His liege also fears that finally having his feet on the ground, means he can no longer watch his veritable collection of moving Tijuana Bibles without raising the ire and skirts of his neighbours.
But the gentleman of the old school trudges along merrily. With spirit and gusto.
"Let's make Britain, Great again. Cheerio."