It was a dark and stormy night. The man walked in the rains on the streets of the city. The streetlights were poofed off by someone. No one knew who. He wore a long black overcoat and a black fedora. He tried smoking a cigar for effect but it got extinguished in the rain and the cigar became all wet and looked like a smudgestick. You could start writing with it on a white wall and get greenish black dirty coloured fading letters. But that's not the purpose of the story, the purpose is - it was a dark and stormy night.
So then, on that dark and stormy night the man kept walking and waiting for something to happen. Nothing did happen and soon it was a bright and calm morning. On his long walk which never stopped because nothing happened, he saw a man practicing Kung Fu in the garden. The man looked chinese, the man turned around and said, "Ae chingpong, you do good kung fu."
"It's not kung fu, it's Ju Jitsu and I'm not Chinese but I'm Korean."
"Bah doesn't make a difference, all you narrow eyes are the same." The man kept walking.
Suddenly he got a straight wack on the back of his head as he fell down. He came to in a small hut where a man with narrow eyes looked at him, "I'm very sorry for my daughter's misbehaviour. She doesn't stand our culture being dishonoured so easily. We're chinese. You called a korean chinese so she was pissed."
"Ah never mind. But that was kung fu right?"
"No, it was Karate."
"We're from Okinawa but we're Chinese."
"Yea, whatever. As if it matters to me. But what the heck are you doing in a slum in Bombay?"
The next time he woke up, he saw a lot of people around him, "Welcome to consciousness O man in black coat and fedora! We're sorry for our brother's misbehaviour. He can't stand people not caring about our culture. He takes it too personally that we're being ignored like insects just because we're a huge country."
"Where am I?"
"This is a basement in Shanghai, China."
"Ahh. Ok." Then he suddenly went bonkers, "WHAT?! What the heck am I doing in chingpong country?"
"We were leaving your country, we didn't know what to do with an unconscious you so we got you along, it's against our honour to leave you there. Our ancestors would've been pissed at us."
"Ancestors, Fancestors, Blah blah, Whatever. Take me back to Bombay."
Wack! The next time when he came to, he saw a tall thin negro offering him an orange.
(to be continued)