"SHITT!!!! WHAT HAPPENED??" screamed Fong Sai. He wet his pants. "I'm BLIND!!"

The smell of urine mingled with week-old bar chor mee in the reception area. Sunlight poked through the clouds, haze from Indonesia, and the dirty glass doors of the police post. It was just after lunch.

Jocks Drap's superhero instincts kicked in. He shoved Corporal Ong under his desk (with normal strength, Jocks didn't have Mr Incredible's powers of superstrength). His eyes scanned the semi-darkness with his X-ray vision. Like Clark Kent, he could turn the power on and off at will, whether to peer through 10 inch thick steel walls or to tell a mega oil company where to dig. Unfortunately, it had rather inconvenient limitations. Jocks vision never allowed him to see through the most hardy of substances, the fabric of a bikini bottom, or a lacy brassiere. Twas such a horrendous weakness and threat to his safety that Jocks cursed his inadequecy daily.

A creeping figure presented itself into the reception room. Jocks stretched out his ultra elasti-arm to grab the man, and promptly tore his long-sleeve shirt. The loud ripping sound seemed to have startled the intruder.

"Eh, you eat too much laksa issit? That time I ate from the coffeeshop across the road and then..."

Jocks got a grip on him this time and pinned him against the wall. "Who the hell are you?"

The man was indignant. "Sorry ok! I service air-con, then something short circuit. Accident OK? Why you so buay song?"

With a sheepish smile, and a profusion of apologies, Jocks let the air-con serviceman down. He had a morbid fear of Ah Bengs. It all started when he was six, and a group of young Ah Sengs saw his tailor-made elasti-suit meant to expand with him, and called it si bei obiang, then tied his arms into a knot. "Fong Sai, you can come up now."

Fong Sai resurfaced with another wave of ammonia. He started a tirade against the air-con serviceman. In the dim light, Jocks could tell that the Ah Beng was pale, skinny, and looked like he was about to die. A suspicion bloomed in his head.

"What's your name?" he whipped out the photo Corporal Ong had given him, "This is you isn't it? Why are you really here? Tell me NOW!"

"I donch telw youuuuuu!" shrieked the air-con Ah Beng, and he bounded out the police post, and into a waiting van that read 'Air Conditioners, Smooth and Silky.

"Should we go after him?" asked Fong Sai excitedly.

"No," replied Jocks Drap, "I'm going to call his company to comprain."