The painkillers are working, but I don't think I can get any real work done today. A side effect of the tromadol is a slight high comparable to morphine, without the drowsiness.
Anyway, after lunch, I was waiting for a cab at Jalan Maarof, at the taxi stand near Maybank.
After 20 minutes of waiting, couple of dudes tried to cut queue. I told them off, and they mumbled something and quietly slinked away.
And then, suddenly, a black Honda CRV pulled into the taxi stand. It's license plate bore the number 13. The occupants of said vehicle decided to talk for a while, blocking all incoming taxis for a good 15 minutes.
Then, THE PIG came out of the car and immediately tried to cut queue.
She had the face of a pig and the heart of a black ainu pig. No tits, flat ass, and short and stumpy. She was wearing sunglasses on her pimple-scarred, pockmarked face. She smelled of pig soup.
She was wearing the oversized sunglasses, perhaps in the futile hope that people would not recognize her for what she is - a PIG.
She tried to cut queue. So I said, "I'm sorry. Excuse me, but I was here first."
She ignored me, as she was, is and forever will be a pig. Pigs do not understand human speech, much less reason. A pig is greedy and inconsiderate. Except for Babe, who is a fantastic pig.
She tried to cut queue again. And after failing to reason, or much less talk to her, I decided to block her.
I have been taking cabs for 11 years, and if there's one thing I've learned, is NEVER, EVER, let pigs cut queue.
If they insist on doing away with decency or act in a civilised manner, and to follow the law of the jungle, then that is the law we will have to adhere to as well.
The problem with this, for her, is that she is a pig. And I am a dragon with the brain of a monkey and the soul of Satan. You chose to mess with the wrong animal, you stupid pig.
I blocked her. For every wave, I was in front. She tried to get beyond me, but I was bigger, faster, stronger, more experienced, smarter and much better-looking.
After a while of me dominating play, all the while, trying to reach out to her with human speech, "Excuse me, Miss, but I was here first. Can you please queue up?" she turned to me and said, "What?!"
She was trying to make it as if I was doing something wrong. That we should all accomodate and tolerate pigs in our daily lives. That we should all bow down to the superiority of pigs, and give them all our cabs.
Not this one, you stupid pig.
Perhaps she was also trying to play the female card. Tough titties, you stupid pig. I believe in equal opportunity, so that means equal responsibility. I will not let this go.
"Well, I was here first, so by right, I should get the first cab. Can you please get in line?" I said.
And she stared at me, so I stared back. This was no longer about cabs or cutting queues or any mundane, trivial matter. At that moment, I was the only thing standing between thousands of years of human civilisation, and the pig.
All of human achievement, at every step of the way, all of our glories and scientific discoveries and artistic achievements, and things with molecular structure was besieged by a pig. And I was mankind's last and greatest hope.
St George had his dragon. I had the pig. I was Peter of Holland, holding back the entire ocean of barbaric pig-ism with a finger in the wall.
And she pursed her lips and retreated, haughtily, to a corner.
And then I got a cab. I went into the car, triumphant. A hero. Killer of pigs. Saviour of humanity. I won. I had saved human civilisation, for the moment, from decay.
Let this be a warning to all pigs out there. I am watching you. Big Broseph is watching you. I will never allow pigs to cut queue. If you want to play by the law of the jungle, other people can also do the same. And we also have teeth. Granted, I am suffering from a toothache, but I got painkillers. Welcome to the jungle, pig.