Terry's Silly Writing Journal

Some time ago, Terry penned an absolutely silly parody of "Lord of the Rings" - Singapore style. He though he'd share it with you here. If you'd like a link to your fiction or humour blog to be added, email wltho1 at gmail.com!

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Glimpses of Grandeur

This is a parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Characters and companies referred to in this work are purely fictitious and are not to be likened to any real people or firms.

Two days passed, and the hobos still had not begun to pack.

‘Why are you still sticking around here?’ Goondoo demanded.

‘I wait for bus fare to dropping…’

‘That will never happen, Bodo!’ screamed the old kurung-guni man. ‘You and Scam had better get packing. Go quietly, go soon!’

‘Eh, I disappear so sardenly, peeple got sure ask where I go one? How?’

‘Aiyah, just pretend that you’re moving house, you know... upgrading!’

‘Okay lah,’ said Bodo. ‘But where I finding Singspell herh? North, souf, east or west?’

‘I suggest you go to River Valley first,’ said Goondoo. ‘It’s where the half-angmoh stay. They are known as Eurasians and they’re supposed to be very wise. Alright, I’m going off to collect more information and trinkets. The next time I pass by here, I don’t want to see you around, understood? Now Bodo, your journey will be fraught with peril, so I’m giving you an alias you can use: you will be known as Mr Underbilled.’

A week after Goondoo left, Block 123 was hit with fantastic news: Bodo was selling Bimbo’s one-room flat at a bargain price! For the other hobos, who called the Void Deck home, this presented a unique chance to land real property. Much to Bodo’s dismay, his sworn enemy Lobo was the first to snap up the offer from Bodo’s housing agent.

Bodo announced that he was moving to another block of flats. He even purchased a makeshift shelter in Block 101. Scam, Mary and Poppins helped him move house in the dead of the night. Bodo wanted to avoid notice at all cost, for Goondoo had warned that many agents of the Enemy were abroad, and that they sought the One Phone.

As they tramped past a kopitiam at midnight, Bodo thought he heard some peculiar, foreign-sounding voices. From the little English that Bodo had learnt from Bimbo, he picked up the following words in their song:

Gibberish, ah! Ah Bereth!
Ah Bereth! Ah, Gibberish! …

In the dim moonlight, Bodo and his hobo companions could make out the shapes of several angmoh backpackers moving swiftly past the kopitiam.

‘Bodo!’ the last of the backpackers called.

‘How you know my name one?’ Bodo asked in an awed voice. But with the angmoh, anything was possible.

‘I’ve seen you with Bimbo before,’ replied the foreigner. ‘By the way, I am Gilded Inglorious of the House of Finnegan, and I am leader of this expedition. Most of our fair kindred have departed for the West, and we are just doing some last-minute sightseeing before joining them overseas. Yet some of our cousins still dwell in River Valley.’
Bodo tried to probe them for news of the dreaded Singspell Marketing Agents, but the angmoh could offer no decent advice.

And as quickly as they came the angmoh departed. Scam was left in a trance, so awed was he at this epiphany in the midst of the HDB heartland.

Monday, December 04, 2006

The history of the One Phone

This is a parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.

Characters and companies referred to in this work are purely fictitious and are not to be likened to any real people or firms.

‘Uggh!' Bodo shrieked. 'How come it ending up with me? Wat to do when bill come?’

‘Ah – in this One Phone lie the records of hundreds of thousands of household phone bills, which is why the Service Provider is desperate to find it. Yes, it is Dai Kor himself who is looking for the Phone. He has already found several of the phones belonging to Local Talent; those he has not have been destroyed. Thankfully, the angmoh have hidden their three phones from him. As for the Heartlanders holding the nine phones, they have already been corrupted into his service and they now serve him as civil serpents and Gahmen bloggers.’

‘Why I so suay one?’ complained Bodo. ‘Now you telling me – how come dis Phone got come to me?’

‘It’s a terrifically long story,’ said Goondoo, and he meant it. ‘The beginnings lie in the Backward Years, in the days when policemen wore shorts, a time which only the law-masters remember. If I were to tell you all that we would still be sitting here when next year’s tax forms arrive. But I will tell what you need to know.’

‘At one time Dai Kor the Mighty, Boss of Singspell, held the One Phone and brought a great many Singaporeans under his dominion. It was Gill-Gila, angmoh towkay, and Ah Lendil, a Westernised businessman, who competed away his profits, although their own businesses collapsed in the process. Such was the price anyone who resisted Singspell had to pay. Then Ah Sildoo, Ah Lendil’s son, forced Dai Kor to pawn the Phone, and he took it for himself.’

‘But the Phone was lost. It fell between the seats in Lido Theatre. And so the Phone passed out of the Knowledge of the Wise, until I at last uncovered its history and can continue the story….’

‘Long ago, a gang of school dropouts used to frequent the shopping centres and cinema theatres. They were known in the Ancient World as Centrepoint Kids. The most cunning, most devious and most unscrupulous of them all was called Smeargol. He sneaked into theatres ever so often, accompanied by his friend Reargol. It was Reargol who chanced upon the Phone in the darkness of the theatre, but Smeargol cheated him of it in a game of chor dai di. And the Phone lent him great power to bully little kids and bill unsuspecting adults. Yet his disposition became more and more dour with each passing day, till he was named Glum. Long hours chatting on the Phone also made him unthinkably dull… so dull that years down the road he would in turn be cheated of the Phone by Bimbo Baggage!’

‘So now wat we supposed to do?’ Bodo asked. ‘Can break it or not?’

Goondoo shook his head.

‘Ah, I got idea! Take it to da top storey and just throw it down lor!?

‘Noooo,’ said Goondoo. ‘That would be killer litter.’

‘Aiyah, still can take it apart wat!’

‘No, the number would still be there – the records of a million phone bills. There is only one place where the Phone can be decommissioned – in the Singspell Office where it was first made!’
‘Goondoo, you can bringing it there or not har?’

‘Absolutely not! I would be too powerful – too valuable if I carried that Phone along with all the other valuable stuff I have packed in my newspapers…’

‘That means…’

‘That means you have to do it yourself, my dear Bodo!’

All of a sudden, Goondoo caught sight of Scam outside the window. ‘Scam!’ he cried, ‘Is that you?’

‘No lah!’ protested Scam. ‘How can be me?’

‘Don’t try to bluff me – it’s you standing right there. You must have heard everything!’

‘No, no… I busy cleaning window wat!’

‘Don’t tell me you can’t clean and listen at the same time! You don’t even have an iPod on you.’


‘No buts. You’ll just have to go with Bodo to Singspell.’

Scam grinned from ear to ear. ‘I get to see angmoh? Hoolay!’

Friday, November 10, 2006

The Secret of the One Phone

The saga continues...

Note: This is a parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Characters and companies referred to in this work are purely fictitious and are not to be likened to any real people or firms.

The weeks passed quickly. The hobos never failed to bring up Bimbo’s disappearance in their conversations, and before long, there were as many theories of his vanishing as there were of Elvis’ disappearance. Some whispered that Goondoo had kidnapped Bimbo; others that Goondoo had tricked him into buying a timeshare package, for the karang-guni man did not rear his head in hobo circles for a long while. And the newspapers carried strange rumours that the powerful angmoh were headed back to the Far West and that a recession was imminent, among various other tidings of woe.

One evening, when it seemed as if things could get no worse, Goondoo reappeared at Bodo’s flat.

‘I have spent the last three months travelling up and down the country, visiting libraries and museums and government think-tanks,’ he told Bodo. ‘Now I can tell you something about the handphone…It’s dangerous!’


‘Yes, dangerous! In fact, I have reason to suspect that’s it’s so powerful that it will destroy anyone of local origin who possesses it. In ancient days – say in the early 90s, some angmoh engineers developed the first batch of mobile phones. Most were weak and could only pick up very strong signals from nearby, but still the radiation from these phones was dangerous. But the Great Phones, the Phones of Power - they are perilous!’

Outside, Bodo’s cleaner Master Scamwise was wiping the windows.

‘Now I am pretty sure this is the One Phone, but I need to do one final check to be sure… Give me the handphone.’

Goondoo took it and scrolled the menu to ‘Settings’. And after he fiddled with it a bit, some words appeared on the display. ‘Look!’

Bodo gasped.

‘I see got some markings but wat it saying har?’

‘Of course you can’t read it; it’s in English, the language of the angmoh. Now let me translate that to the Common Tongue.’

‘Three Mobiles for Foreign Talent, that’s their fee
Seven for Local Talent in their workplace
Nine for mortal Singaporeans doomed to GST
One for the CEO in his Office Space
In the land of Singspell where the phone bills lie.
One phone to call them all, One phone to find them
One phone to tap their lines and in the meantime fine them.
In the land of Singspell, where the phone bills lie.’

‘Now this,’ said Goondoo ominously, ‘is the One Phone.’

Friday, November 03, 2006

Keep it secret, and keep it safe!

The saga continues...

Note: This is a parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Characters and companies referred to in this work are purely fictitious and are not to be likened to any real people or firms.

He had, in reality, rushed back to his flat, where he changed out of his birthday suit and into a comfortable singlet. He had already packed what he needed into a small travel bag. Then he took out his treasured Handphone and placed it in a plastic bag addressed to Bodo. But as quickly as he had put the plastic bag onto the mantelpiece did he think the better of it and retrieved the phone.

At that point Goondoo entered the flat, without even bothering to knock.

‘Everything went according to plan, I suppose?’

‘Dam solid. Steady lah! And now I can go on holiday.’ Bimbo smiled. ‘Everything I leaving for Bodo.’

‘Everything?’ said Goondoo. ‘What about your mobile? You promised that to him…’

‘Uh, erm… you really want to know ah - it’s in the plastic bag on the mantelpiece… Eh, wait a minute, it still in my pocket leh!’

‘It almost seems that you’re reluctant to part with the Phone…’ Goondoo said pointedly.

Suddenly, Bimbo was irritated. ‘You tell me dis got what to do with you, you stoopid karang-guni?’

‘Everything! I’ve been eyeing that phone for a long time. I don’t think you’ll be using it on your trip, since you don’t have auto-roaming.’

‘Wat this got to do wif you, huh? Wat if I just want use my phone listen music, pray game? Got what to do wif you?’

‘Everything! You’re addicted to the handphone. And besides, it’s not really yours…’

‘You dun tok like that one, can? I bet on the Geylang-Home United match and win it fair and square!’

‘Now it’s my turn to be angry!’ shouted Goondoo, stepping onto a pile of newspapers so that his head was barely a foot under the lamp. He cast a long menacing shadow across the room.

‘Oi…’ said Bimbo, backing away. ‘I know you vely tall one. Noneed use your height to scare me. Ok lah, I give Bodo my handphone. Ciao!’ And with that he lifted his bag off the ground and turned towards the door.

‘The handphone is still in your pocket!’ shouted Goondoo. Just then, Bimbo skidded on a loose sheet of newspaper and the handphone tumbled out of his pocket. Goondoo snatched it and replaced it on the mantelpiece.

‘Ok, ok,’ sighed Bimbo. ‘I leave it behind lor!’

‘The better for you,’ said Goondoo, as Bimbo Baggage stepped out of the door and took his first step towards the World Trade Centre.

Bodo came in not long after and found Goondoo sitting on a pile of newspapers, deep in thought.

‘He chao already?’ asked Bodo.

‘Yup, and he’s left you all these things… including the handphone on the mantelpiece.’

‘Yah. He did say got one phone.’

‘Keep it secret and keep it safe!’ hissed Goondoo.

‘Why har? I know it look quite chio… but got newer model on sale, some even got Tree-G and camela one… Now if I can trade in dis handphone, mebbe I can get good price…’

‘Don’t siao!’ screamed the karang-guni man. ‘I have a hunch that this handphone is worth more than you could possibly imagine!’

‘Why leh?’

‘Gut feeling. Comes from years of being in the karang-guni trade. But I have to be off, and when I next return, I may be able to tell you how much it’s worth. But in the meantime, keep it secret and keep it safe!’

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Bimbo’s Birthday Bash

Now Bimbo was getting on in years, and he decided to commemorate his birthday by splurging on a bash in honour of himself and his favourite nephew, Bodo (who was also a hobo). Due to Bimbo’s reputation for foolish generosity and inane blog postings, the Net was soon abuzz with talk of his upcoming party and rumours concerning his guest list.

One morning, a week before the party, an emaciated, stoop-shouldered karang-guni man by name of Goondoo the Greying stopped at Block 123 and rang Bimbo’s doorbell.

‘Who ah?’


‘Oi, come in,’ cried the hobo. ‘You got bring or not?’

‘Of course I brought the pyrotechnics,’ Goondoo said, as he unwrapped a bundle of newspapers to reveal four packets of sparklers.

‘You sure liedat can ornot?’ asked Bimbo. ‘I already tell der kids, my party firework, hor, will be more spectacular den National Day one… I promise them alleady.’

‘Surely you know me by now,’ chided Goodndoo. ‘My stuff is always the best! Fifty dollars a packet - good stuff, never bluff!’

‘Goondoo! You know I vely generous, but feefty dollar cannot lah – dun care how sard your firework one!’

‘Okay, okay – the shop gave me a loyalty discount, actually. I only paid two dollars in total’

‘Ah, like that can. Now I really going on my long trip, as I got earlier say.’

‘So you’re serious about emigrating – to where, may I ask?’

‘Aiyoh, just hop on first felly I see at World Trade Centre. Maybe go Batam, maybe go Bintan, – anyware osso can - but must go someware. Since last time I going oversea I feel I must travel again … and maybe dis time dun come back.’

‘Suit yourself,’ said the karang-guni man, but Bodo was not entirely convinced he needed a suit for the journey.

Preparations for the party took days - to decorate the Void Deck with balloons and streamers, and to flood letter boxes with birthday flyers promising all manner of freebies. It was grander than any wedding or funeral that had ever been held at the Void Deck.

Finally, the day arrived. The guest list was not such a mystery after all, as all residents of Block 123 were invited. From morning to night they made merry and feasted on the fare catered from the kopitiam across the street, all the while wondering what presents Bimbo would dole out later. They were not disappointed. Bimbo had a range of freebies ranging from mousepads and handphone accessories to the most prized Hello Kitty dolls. The queues for these gifts were interminable.

When nightfall came, Goondoo unveiled the sparklers to much cheering, clapping and hooting. Seldom were pyrotechnics seen in the Void Deck. Goondoo lighted them one by one, twirling them in front of the mesmerized crowd. They came in different colours, some pure white, some with a hint of blue, others with a touch of red, a tinge of green…

The guests were enthralled. The spectacle lasted for a good five minutes, and afterward everyone said that the party was worth their while, if only for the freebies and the sparkling display of pyrotechnics.

Then it was time for Bimbo to deliver his birthday address.

‘Frens and hobos!’ he yelled. ‘Hou, bo? Today my burf-day!’

‘Hoolay, hoolay!’ the crowd yelled back, but in fact, they were in fact half dreading what would follow, for Bimbo was in the habit of making long speeches alluding to his time overseas. What’s worse, he seemed to have acquired a penchant for reciting crude songs and poetry. And a one-man karaoke show was not what people called fun.

But Bimbo did nothing of that sort. Instead, he said, ‘Ta ta! Dis is dee End!’ With that, he stuck his hand in his pocket and activated his Handphone… and became… unintelligible!

Friday, October 27, 2006

Introducing "The Lord of the Phones"

The Lord of the Phones

This is a parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Characters and companies referred to in this work are purely fictitious and are not to be likened to any real people or firms.

Part I: The Fellowship of the Phone

Prologue: Concerning Hobos and one Bimbo Baggage

Hobos are a time-honoured, unobtrusive people. They go from neighbourhood to neighbourhood wherever there are odd jobs to be found. Once the job is done, they collect their pay and are on the trot again. In today’s working world, where bosses prefer their workers confined to cubicles, hobos are a rare breed. But they have not disappeared; they have merely become New Economy workers who prefer to work from home.

This story begins with a hobo - the first hobo, in fact, to gain national renown. His name? Bimbo Baggage.

The story is told of Bimbo Baggage’s adventures and how the One Mobile Phone came into his possession. Bimbo was quite a celebrity in his hometown – ever since he came back from some strange adventures in distant lands beyond the Estate. But he was famous because he never seemed to run out of SMSes, and because his phone had ultra-cool flashing lights and a silly ringtone.