We hit 'em hard.

Quest for Pleasure
We asked for volunteers for this hedonistic undertaking, and few were those who answered the call. But a quest is a quest, and even if our party was pretty paltry, what matters most is quality and not quantity. And in that aspect we could not complain, for Odin is kind and those who did answer the call were of staunch quality.

Journal Log
Today was a stupendous day. It started off on a pretty low note, but ended on a crescendo, quite literally.

When I woke up this morning, the sun was wimpled by low, creeping clouds. I was tired and thought that naught would come out of our planned expedition to Sentosa. I called Goon and he didn't answer. My doubts about the trip were growing, but I already gave my word so I had to be there. I was worried that it would be called off, but my query to associate Chan was replied with a curious "It's great weather on the train, is it raining over at your side?" Me of little faith, was doubtful. I prepared myself and as luck would have it, I caught the bus 190 just in time. And as I got on I smsed Goon who replied that he was just walking to his bus stop. Terrific timing. A superb start to a spiffy day, though I doubt I realised it at that moment.

Manquan reached the harborfront MRT first, with JZ second, then Goon and me followed by Dom. We met Seetoh at the MRT station, as he was meeting some guy there for a handphone deal. Dom arrived as we were feeding ourselves at the harbourfront hawker centre. None of us brought a volleyball, with JZ and Dom flummoxed about who was supposed to bring it. That wasn't promising, because then our arsenal only consisted of:

1 basketball, brought by associate Chan.

Feeding

I had 1 plain and 1 egg prata. The fare was nothing to write home about, but I was hungry and as they say hunger is the best seasoning. But my palate wasn't entirely satisfied so I went further and fed on Kaya Toast. Then I was full, too full in fact and feeling sluggish. I wished I had stayed in bed, and jokingly suggested going home to sleep, but the norns beneath Yggdrasil had evidently decided otherwise.

Sublime Time

After feeding, we bought our tickets and got to our destination. Siloso beach. It was pretty empty, probably as it was early - 10 plus. We went to the item shop near the beach shack to add to our arsenal, unfortunately the equipment was too low level for us, and the high level gear was out of stock. Dismayed but undaunted, we decided to start working with our most familiar and only available tool - the basketball. We got to the pavilion nearest to the court, put down the stuff and started.

We played among ourselves, 2 v 3 as nobody came along just yet. We saw some potential challengers who were playing around with a soccer ball, but we were quite into our game, and so we bidded our time. We played, and the rain fell steadily. I think that was preferable to a scorching sun, and by then my body was waking up and I was beginning to appreciate the day. After a few fun games, we decided to get out of the rain as it was getting heavier, and the treacherous combination of sand and rainwater on the basketball court was getting too slippery even for SEALs.

We were warmed up, and ready for some shieldwall action. The previous raiding party we spotted were still around, so we issued a challenge to them. And they unfortunately for them, they were too polite to decline.

The Slaughter
Rules - Goalkeeper, 5 on 5
I volunteered to be the custodian of our might troop, and pretty soon got bored of the inaction at our side. A few shots of ours were saved by demented dives by the daring keeper, and I was displeased that one man should stop our forays. I decided to strike deep, and formed the spearhead of our incursion into their shieldwall. Goon took over the role of custodian. (meaning i tried to be sneaky and went offside to strike, but hey, it's beach soccer this ain't no EPL so why not?) Within a few minutes, we broke through, and first blood was drawn. A beautiful stroke that cleaved through their defenders appeared in front of me, and instincts took over as I hammered in the blow at the last second.

1-0, to us.

Then Goon went up, and within another few minutes, 2-0 to us. We were all amused at this Super-Sub phenomena, and so we rotated our keeper in the hopes of keeping 1 man fresh to deliver the mortal blow over and over again. And to our credit, it worked. Everyone on our team scored.

We struck again and again, but the enemy put up a valiant struggle, till at last our efforts exhausted us, and they took the chance to counter attack. They were desparate men, and cornered men are dangerous. Fortunately for us, our shieldwall held, held strong it did, and we suffered no casualties. There were a few close shaves, like when a bolt hit the outside of our shields(long range shot hit outside post), but Lady Luck was on our side, and everyone escaped unscathed.

I can't remember many of the brilliant goals, so I have to leave it up to my squad to re-enact the scenes for all of you. Needless to say, it was an exceptional display of teamwork, and it would not have been possible with the absence of of any of us. Everybody did their part, and the results reflect that well. The weather conditions were blessed indeed, thank Thor, for the winds and rain cooled our battle hardened muscles and the slaughter could thus continue at an increased rate.

Final score - 7-0. Goon ended it with a blistering blast from a distance away, and the enemy keeper was hapless as he watched the bullet burn past him.

After the resounding victory, we rested, for even though the mightiest cannot fight beyond his strength. The bloodlust was still upon us, and we were eager for more annihilation, but no lambs come willingly to the slaughter. After the rest, the sun came out, as if the very heavens were smiling upon our victory, and I whipped out my notes and tried to absorb what I could, while the rest went went to shoot hoops. After they tired of it, we rested again. Then they came...

The Pyrrhic Victory
Mq said they looked pro. I scoffed. Looked. Only that. And fortunately I was right.
Rules - Last Man, 5 on 5
They were around our age, similar to the previous team, but there 4 malays, who have a natural affinity with soccer. Thankfully, our affinity with soccer was stronger. For the first 15 minutes (may be inaccurate as we don't keep time when we cut our enemies down), there was a dry spell. No blood was shed, but we persevered. Then Dom broke through. He hammered a shot towards the enemy's last man, and he deflected it in towards his own goal. Own goal, as the ball was going out, but in his haste the enemy misjudged and gave us the advantage. However, the battle could still swing either way, so we kept at it.

And fortune favours the bold, and we were rewarded. A second goal by us was scored, and then I knew the battle was ours. Knew and rejoiced in it. And then the norns at Yggdrasil mocked us. Goon was injured by a reckless tackle, which left him no choice but to rest his ankle. One of our squad injured! We were dismayed, but held fast. The enemy, to their credit, scored a few goals. However, this was due in part to the weather no longer being as favourable as that in the previous battle - it was slightly humid with the sun slightly out and a slight drizzle falling, and this took a toll on our tired bodies. We scored as many as them, and this was when the numerical odds were against us. However, good ol' Chan was so kind as to take one of them out of the game with a perfectly legal shin hit, and the numbers were even once again.

And then we scored and so did they and I lost count of the goals, but needless to say we won. Dom made them concede a few more own goals, and I tapped in some and MQ and JZ slugged a few through them too. The last goal was ours, and both sides were tired and we decided to end it. However, victory had come at a high price. Goon's ankle was awkward, and we don' tknow whether it will turn out to the a bad sprain. It didn't hurt then, but it could flare up later. So we rested, and by then it was 12 plus or 1. We were dehydrated, and went to get drinks from 7-11.

When we got back, there were new challengers. This time for basketball. Needless to say, Goon showed them. I got switched to their team as they were lacking a man, and tried my best, but alas my best was not good enough and the outsiders team plus me lost, though at least there was decent resistance.

After that we washed up. I saw the math teacher Mr Benjamin Tan at the beach toilet. Well he's a nice guy so I greeted him.

Then we went to the harbourfront hawker centre and feeded again. YJ joined us there. He had something on in the morning, so couldn't partake in the quest. The duck rice was not bad, $2.50, pretty reasonable.

After we fed we went to walk around in Vivocity. Nothing much to be said about that, and after that we all went home.

Which brings me to another part of the journal.

The Long Trek Home
Goon and I went home via the 190, and along the way Goon was lamenting that he hated 190. Why, I enquired. Cause he's been taking it too long, he answered. Hehe. Well I couldn't argue against that.

My mood was exuberant as I went home, because never have I gone to the beach and found so many challengers in a day. Challengers we vanquished, which was probably the main reason I was so pleased.

So we boarded the 190 to go home. A bendy one. The middle part stank like a swamp(though I've never been to one), and noise greeted us when we moved to the back. And I mean noise. Well some fucktards might call it techno, but to me it IS and will always be noise. So me and Goon were annoyed. We identified the source, and we realised that the fucko was sitting with his mother. Now I was disturbed. The sorry excuse for musik was very loud, and the fucko was with his mum, and they were having a conversation as if the clangor was nothing out of the ordinary. Which it probably was, but for the usual commuter I don't think it is anything pleasant, and the fucko's mum didn't even have the decency to tell his son to can it. They definitely were not deaf, as they were having an audible conversation, so it confounds me as to why they could stand such a din.

I was in a good mood, so I was ridiculing the person blasting the noise through his handphone, and his mother who didn't have the civility of reining in his son. The guy was some fat fool, maybe he was hoping the loud decibels would dissolve some of his fats, but I don't think it works that way. Then Goon's sharp ears picked out that there was another source of disturbance. From the backseat of the bus, we realised, when we moved further back into the bus. (The first fucko and his mum were seated right behind the exit) like 5 seats in front of the second fucko.

Our ears were constantly assailed by the base percussion emitting from the bowels of the 2 fuckos' handphone, and as we moved towards the back of the bus it got worst. The second fucko was playing something right from the bowels of hell I would think, some kinda rap with no music or rhyme to it. Basically, I think he was reflecting his true nature. Dregs of excretion. And that's putting it kindly. I diverted my attention to him now, as the assault on my ears was getting unbearable. I suggested aloud that he probably didn't have money for earphones, which I would assume to be not too far from the truth.

I wondered aloud to Goon why nobody had the moral courage to ask him to shut his bowels, and asked Goon whether he did. Goon said yes, but he wasn't peeved enough yet.

Then the person sitting beside fucko 2 couldn't stand the din, and she got out of the seat and told us she couldn't stand the unholy percussion, to which I laughed and asked her why not tell the source of it. Which she obviously didn't dare to. Goon took the seat, and I watched, tickled by this unexpected event. The lady who couldn't take the shit had earphones on herself, but such was the intensity of the bowel movement from fucko 2 that earphones didn't help. Then we realised the 2 fuckos knew each other, as the mother of fucko 1 turned around and spoke to fucko 2. Surprise, surprise! Not really but still mildly satisfying to know that crap forms bonds with itself.

I took out my phone to lend Goon for the music to block out most of the criminal cacophony, and while reaching for the bag which was on the fall, the bus jerked suddenly.

Yet another great display of driving skills by the Formula One bus drivers, and I just fell into the crowd behind me. And the young lady behind I fell on gave me an annoyed look. Bitch. It was her lucky day I fell on her, and she had the audacity to gave me any annoyed look. But I was magnanimous, and let it slide. Goon plugged in his earphones, but it didn't work as well as well as he thought and he decided to ask the guy to stop his hell-raising machination. He asked politely enough, and the guy just ignored him. Goon was the man. Courageous! And I got peeved at the piece of crap's attitude. Like you're a piece of crap and you're irritating the people around you, and people ask you nicely you don't respond. This is the kind of people to crush and their spines would be put to better use as target practice.

I didn't have the guts to tell him off, but I really wished I did. After he ignored Goon the Courageous, I laughed cause I knew that would piss him off. I've found that laughing is a very good way for pissing people off, and I like laughing. Laughter is the best medicine, but unfortunately the fucko bacteria just wouldn't die. I was using motherfucker to dub him when discussing him and his antics, and I spoke loudly enough for him to understand that I was calling him that. I was trying to shame him enough so he would turn off his trash, but I guess he just had oxhide epidermis.

So fucko 2 just suddenly got out of his seat before Stevens Road, and we thought he was getting off. To hell, I hoped. I wanted to take the seat, but I remembered falling on the lady and felt sorry, and I let that bitch take the seat. So we got the PIE and fucko 2 didn't get off and slinked in front to fucko 1, and me and Goon the Courageous were wondering why did he leave his seat, and thought our jibes worked, but it appeared there was another reason, which we found out later.

So on the highway home, Goon the Courageous was gesticulating to the bitch I gave my seat to. Apparently the old man beside her was sleeping, and his head kept touching her shoulder and his hands strayed. I found out when the lady got out of the seat immediately after the highway, and even on the highway I could see she was annoyed already with her constipated look. So anyway as I sat down after the highway journey I realised the 2 fuckos were still on board. And I took out my phone and took his picture. Tried anyway, got 2 decent shots of his face. I'll post it soon, just so everyone can have a good laugh. After I sat down the old man made a "nck" sound of displeasure, I presume so anyway. I gave him a stare after I sat down, and he didn't try to pull any stunts with me.

I would think he noticed, as fucko 1 kept turning around to look at me, and I presumed the he would have told fucko 2. But I didn't give a damn. Before I got off, I stayed at the exit and turned around to take fucko 2's picture, and it was pretty obvious. I heard a "cb kia" from him, and I don't think he was describing himself, though it would be a most apt term. And to my horror fucko 1 and his mother got off at the same stop as me. Fortunately, they crossed the road. At least I'm separated from the retardos by a 4 lane road.

I sincerely hope if they try to venture over they can knocked down. Maybe then some sense will be knocked into them. Oh, and the cuntish cacophony was still playing as I left the bus.

posted by chee  # 8:17 pm