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Deadly Dead Thieves
by Amit Parmessur

Muscular. Popular. Married. This is how I can describe Mr Fong Tog Pinnng, my new neighbour. Obviously, his name bothers me most. Foolish people affirm that his parents were so confused about naming him that they dropped a vase to the floor and named him after the sounds produced.

It’s been two months since he’s taken the dead butcher’s empty house. His father being atrociously wealthy Mr Fong Tog Pinnng turned the butcher’s ground floor into an attractive shop. Personally I’m not too close to him but I can feel for him as nowadays he’s a miserable shopkeeper. He’s spending most of his time convincing the cops that he’s been victim to the shrewdest gang of thieves.

It’s not that I don’t want to help the police and my neighbour. It’s just that I don’t want to be sent to the asylum and leave my extremely beautiful wife alone in this cruel, selfish and materialistic world. Who would believe me, anyway?

It’s all about a week ago. I was coming back from work very late and was the only soul on the streets as I drove quickly but carefully, with my extremely beautiful wife waiting for me. It was past midnight. While entering my house I heard an odd noise. I quietly hid behind a tree and heard the noise once again from Mr Fong Tog Pinnng’s house.

Gathering my wits, and with the help of the moon I saw the whole stock of cigarettes being stolen. I think the thief was none other than old Uncle Jerry, the heavy smoker. Behind him was his son, the heavy drinker, with all the wine trudging away. I panicked.

Then I guess I saw Aunt Margaret, the avid chicken eater. Eleven bags stuffed with frozen chicken were flying away! Poor Fong Tog Pinnng. I thought it was all over when I saw another line of thieves parading mutely.

Juvenile delinquency.

One had his hands, pockets and mouth full of biscuits. Another seemed a fan of Doritos as the whole stock was moving out with him. The next had one hand full of chocolates and the other overloaded with sweets. In spite of the tight security it was another clever sweeping of goods from Mr Fong Tog Pinnng’s shop the following night.

As you have guessed Uncle Jerry and Co are dead. It was just the days all dead would roam free. 1. Being the sole eye-witness. 2. Going to court night and day. 3. Testifying against the dead! 4. Leaving my extremely beautiful wife in this cruel, materialistic and selfish world. Too much.

Much too much.

Mr Fong Tog Pinnng’s father is the sole undertaker in town and makes his profits in a very dishonest way. Mr Fong Tog Pinnng is surely paying for the deeds of his father and the dead are just having their private revenge for being fraudulently manhandled into their graves. I only know my silence will help preserve my extremely beautiful wife. I can’t speak.