Vampire hunting’s over! I can’t even believe such a catastrophe could happen! What in the name of Viknesk could have caused this calamity? A spoilt sensor gun, in other words a gun that won’t shoot no matter how hard you jerk it. It’s terrible news. There was really nothing I can say that can heal the rift that has developed between the Gaming Centre and my passion for shoot-em-ups. It was horrendously a betrayal of our fillial loyalty to its code of conduct: Play, play and buy more tokens!. Nevertheless, yesterday was a decent outing. We spent the entire evening playing with balls of various sizes,volumes and weights. Firstly, because our Tai Lo Brother Bear wasn’t at the intended arena yet Mr Melon Maniac decided we may as well do good with a few rounds of pool. There we were hitting, yet again, balls with sticks. This time we have shooting ‘aids’ in the form of longer sticks. Unfortunately, this blogger wasn’t really that fond with the assistance given. It is no secret that we are just a bunch of enthusiast with liltle or no knowledge (not to mention talent) of the game at large. The liltle red balls won’t or just refused to enter into the damn holes! Here’s the list of ‘goals’ scored so far: CK: 4 bola Melon Maniac: 3 bola Me: 2 bola Feats of rage and utter pointlessness outrage the three participants who were, before this game, good and fair sportsmans. Other than these few, exceptional scores the rest of the session was spent on just laying the reddish spheres into an order where a score was assured (that too, was an exertion of futility!). Tai Lo arrived ten minutes before the game’s over. After such a ‘motivating’ set, we moved on to bigger, heavier spheres of comparatively ridiculous porportions. There it was, the Bowling Grounds, the watering wad for all Malaysians with no life and a thirst for rowling, spinning objects. As with the usual routine, we gave the gentleman among us the first go. Suprisingly, it was this blogger. There I was, walking down the lane with a pair of rented shoes. I stooped, and released a series of stunning rolls down the polished pavement. All apparent was the score (at each throw) which was near to the numerical equivalent for the expression ‘moron’, the zero. Melon Maniac had the ‘Beckham’ touch; curved an oversized and obese sphere of spheres to an almost beautiful swing. The bowl, as if it had a mind of its own, swerved from the far right to obliterate a couple of pins on its side! It was an amazing 30 degree turn! Talk about boomerangs in the court. CK was on form. Obtaining a high of >100, there was suspicion that he, in the early morning, had his fair share of ‘ball knocking’ in his personal space. Tai Lo wasn’t that bad either. He was trailing behind the king pin CK by a margin as liltle as 33. Yes, it was a two digit number. It’s lucky he didn’t get a diference of 50. Lay Cheng would be proud! There was a cafeteria next to the bowling lawn. In spite of that, fries wasn’t an option. But Viknesk was. Regardless of all tireless attempts at coercing him out to the outside world, he remains virtuos in his stance to be left at home at all cost. Yes, a pal with an extended schedule where his friends fit no part into it. Hmm...that reminds me of Kevin. Kevin=Brainard? Finally it was 5.00 in the evening. Time for our natural migration to Prangin. CK’s Perodua, which I will affectionately dub VF-1A was available. That’s why our ‘hike’ to and from the mall was fast and trouble-free. That is with the exclusion of the puke-inducing drive up the spiralling Car Park. For safety purposes, I brought over and wore my ever thrusted bycicle helmet. It’s the safest choice for a couple of crash dummy-wannabes. Behind, Tai Lo was constantly ramming into the Melon Maniac. Talk about centrifugal force! The VF-1A came to a halt at the rooftop. Never had anyone seen such space and emptiness since the days of attending Chemistry classes. Benzena wasn’t present, though. Once in the food court, Tai Lo ordered a fresh bowl of tom yam soup.The taste was envigorating and we decided to be parasites with a dignity worth 50 sens. It was reasonably spiced with an abundance of tau ges and other green shoots. Just like Tai Lo’s love life. Even though melon was sold, Melon Maniac didn’t have a try. Its sensuous appeal was losing its strenght on him, perhaps. Or perhaps being a fillial son is a prerequisite for his future schemes. No one knows how perverted his mind is. Okay, because of time constainst, I would like to continue this session’s excursion another time. Thank you for your patience and unpassified caffeine-stimulated senses. P.S: Getting ‘feminine’ here. Listening to Celine Dion while composing this piece of garbage littered crap written with a keyboard barely responsive to his master’s orders.