Wan heard a loud noise.
'Who the fuck is that,' he said.
He was going to go out in glory.
The Singaporeans denied him permanent residency and he was under investigation for cigarette smuggling.
The noise got louder and closer.
The sun was peeking out of a slit in the sky.
Today he was going to teach Singapore a lesson.
The first morning rays got caught on the parapet of the Mesjid Raya Sultan Riau, the birthplace of the Malay language and Malaysia's rightful island.
'I'll teach those Indonesian sons of bitches next,' he said.
The Malaysians were always teaching the Indonesians.
And quite frankly, the Indonesia government looked upon their extremist's cousins up north with suspicion.
The call of prayer drowned out the jet ski.
Wan didn't know what hit him.
It was a pair of two very large tits.
Frank struck next with a cattle prodder.
Then Caramel did the most amazing thing, a lap dance.
The Indonesia intelligence officers were all over the island once Frank activated a signal signifying that 'Operation Take Wan Down' was underway.
Wan was handcuffed, duct taped and choppered over to Singapore.
They would show no mercy.
The Indonesian government didn't want to be accused of the Muslims killing the Muslims, so preferred the Mandarins up north to dish out their own justice.
Indonesia couldn't afford a standoff with Singapore.
The fact that they owned the island was a moot point.
They needed the Singaporean investment and sex tourists to prop up their economy.
'Is the lecture over,' said Caramel, who was gyrating into my groin.
I said it was over and that we should head back to Bintan Island where I knew a hotel that had room service.
'We can kick back over a club sandwich and HBO.'
Caramel knew what I was getting at and jumped on the back of the jet ski as I full throttled it to the hotel which had it's own mooring.
'Who the fuck is that,' he said.
He was going to go out in glory.
The Singaporeans denied him permanent residency and he was under investigation for cigarette smuggling.
The noise got louder and closer.
The sun was peeking out of a slit in the sky.
Today he was going to teach Singapore a lesson.
The first morning rays got caught on the parapet of the Mesjid Raya Sultan Riau, the birthplace of the Malay language and Malaysia's rightful island.
'I'll teach those Indonesian sons of bitches next,' he said.
The Malaysians were always teaching the Indonesians.
And quite frankly, the Indonesia government looked upon their extremist's cousins up north with suspicion.
The call of prayer drowned out the jet ski.
Wan didn't know what hit him.
It was a pair of two very large tits.
Frank struck next with a cattle prodder.
Then Caramel did the most amazing thing, a lap dance.
The Indonesia intelligence officers were all over the island once Frank activated a signal signifying that 'Operation Take Wan Down' was underway.
Wan was handcuffed, duct taped and choppered over to Singapore.
They would show no mercy.
The Indonesian government didn't want to be accused of the Muslims killing the Muslims, so preferred the Mandarins up north to dish out their own justice.
Indonesia couldn't afford a standoff with Singapore.
The fact that they owned the island was a moot point.
They needed the Singaporean investment and sex tourists to prop up their economy.
'Is the lecture over,' said Caramel, who was gyrating into my groin.
I said it was over and that we should head back to Bintan Island where I knew a hotel that had room service.
'We can kick back over a club sandwich and HBO.'
Caramel knew what I was getting at and jumped on the back of the jet ski as I full throttled it to the hotel which had it's own mooring.
