The Box That Killed Air Soled

It's really quite amazing what I can find when I'm roaming the streets of Ipoh looking for plastic bottles and cardboard boxes to recycle for cash. I was rummaging through a large pile of rubbish in the rain when I found a note written on a piece of curry-stained A4 paper. Allow me to present its cryptic contents to you.

To whomever who is unlucky enough to find this,

I beg you to ignore this. It's not as simple as you think. We do not truly know who we are. Would you feel the same if you found a box that could kill all the flies in the world? Well, maybe you would. And that's because you're not a fly. But imagine if a fly found the box. Do you think the fly would press the button? Do you think the fly would still press the button if the fly were aware of the fact that it is a fly? Because once the button is pressed, every single fly in the world will die. And that would include the fly that pressed the button.

That's pretty weird. Maybe it was written by a drug addict. Or one of Dun Wan Lern's friends. For all I know, Dun Wan Lern wrote it. I was about to chuck the note away when I noticed something else. Right beside some empty Guinness Stout bottles was this box that seemed to be calling out to me. It was as if the box was sending a direct signal to my brain. It said: "Hold me, touch me and check me out, bay bee." And so I did. The message was so strong that I simply couldn't resist.

I got hold of the box. It looked just like any other cardboard box. The only obvious difference was that it felt heavier. On the top flap were written the words "Pray Hard If Ye Be An Air Sole" and a large asterisk (*). I haven't the faintest idea what the words meant. Who or what is an AIR SOLE? And that large asterisk --- which looked like a huge star --- made me scratch my head even more. I was stumped. I decided to lift the flap.

Imagine my surprise when I found another box inside the box. And another. And then another. It was ridiculous. There I was, squatting under the pouring rain with this phony Chinese box. If it was a Matryoshka doll, I could've sold it to someone for 20 sen, but nobody wanted a Chinese box made out of cardboard. At that point, all I wanted to do was to stomp on the boxes until they became as flat as roti canai.

And then I saw it.

Right in the middle of the smallest box was this red button that looked like Rudolph's nose, but smaller. It also reminded me of a gorilla's nipple, but smaller. There were some words written above the button but it was too tiny so I pulled out my magnifying glass and held it close to the tiny words. It said: "Prez Da Barten Yeef Yuh Wan 2 Keel All Dee Air Soles In Dis Werld." Needless to say, I was crushed. It was written in Benglish, and I failed my Benglish. All I could make out was "Yuh", which meant "you." I looked up at the sky and screamed at the rain clouds.

"WHY MEEEEEEEEEEEE? WHYYYYYYYYYYY???????? I AM FORTUNE'S FOOOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Blinded with rage, I flung the box against the wall and walked away from the rubbish dump. Later that night, I was sitting in a mamak stall watching some free tv and drinking an ais kosong when I overheard this conversation between these two rich-looking old geezers who were smoking cigars. When an adorable black and white kitten walked past, one of them intentionally stepped on the poor kitten's tail. As the poor kitten ran away mewling its head off while leaving a trail of cat poo on the five-foot-way, the wicked old men laughed as if they had just won the lottery.

Old Geezer #1: Hey, so did they find the box yet?

Old Geezer #2: Not yet.

Old Geezer #1: That's bad. Very bad.

Old Geezer #2: I know. But what can we do? It has been raining every day.

Old Geezer #1: Do you think we should pay them more?

Old Geezer #2: Aiyah, no point in doing that. They don't like working with rubbish when it's raining. They don't like to get their hands dirty.

Old Geezer #1: Maybe we should find someone else. What do you think?

Old Geezer #2: Who do you have in mind?

Old Geezer #1: Ape Yoghurt.

Old Geezer #2: Isn't she taking her Masters now?

Old Geezer #1: I don't think she has a choice. She owes me a few favours.

Old Geezer #2: Then we'd better get in touch with her ASAP.

Old Geezer #1: I'll call Monkey Butt.

Old Geezer #2: And don't forget Sam Seng.

Old Geezer #1: That Doctor Cess was a real fool. I mean how could he not know that he himself was an air sole?

Old Geezer #2: Yeah, he should've consulted us before he pressed the bloody button. If he had done that, he would be here with us tonight, smoking a fine Monte Cristo while drinking a hot glass of teh tarik halia and farting non-stop.

Old Geezer #1: It would've saved us a lot of trouble too. And now the box is lying somewhere while air soles continue to be born every minute. We must find the box ASAP and rid the world of air soles, once and for all.

.................................................................................

I had an epiphany, and finally understood everything. As I walked up to them, the two old geezers instinctively shrank away from me. After all, I smelled like all the baths that I hadn't taken for two months. I slowly raised my right hand, pointed at them both and said, "THE BOTH OF YOU ARE AIR SOLES. WHEN THEY FIND THE BOX, YOU'RE THE NEXT IN LINE TO GO." Then I laughed, the way I haven't laughed, for a very long time.