I've been to hell and back.
Yes. It is true. Now I know what hell looks like. It is full of sweat-drenched, rowdy ten-year olds and their bewildered parents who are cursed to accompany them to the eternal fires of Hades. And no, Satan is not the overlord of hell. The one who truly is in command is a wafer-thin guy named Chito. Yes, Chito Miranda of Parokya ni Edgar is the one and only Lucifer, Beelzebub or Mephistopheles. He is the Angel of Darkness.
I had an omen earlier that day. My alarm clock slash radio woke me up with Parokya’s irritatingly famous song titled ‘Mang Jose.’ I dragged my bloated body to the shower where I was followed by Chito’s croaking voice. I headed back to my room then smashed the blasted alarm clock slash radio against the wall.
Ok, I admit it. There was a time I enjoyed listening to Parokya. I found them hilarious. Their music was fun. But I can not listen to crap all the time. I guess I just grew up and they didn’t. Try listening to ‘picha pie’ and not pop a vein in your forehead. I heard once that a guy was shot in the face for singing ‘chikinini’ in a karaoke bar. Yes, listening to Parokya can turn you into a homicidal maniac.
Anyway, I was led into the gates of hell by my eagerness to please a Bangladeshi visitor from a non-profit organization based in KL. Tatcee, Mabster and I just wanted to treat this guy to dinner but were forced to meet Iryn in Conspiracy. Guess who was the featured performer that night? Correct! It was Parokya.
And so my torment began.
We arrived at around 9 in the evening. There were just a few people around. I did not plan to stay long but then the Bangladeshi became interested in seeing the band perform. He said that he never get to watch bands in Malaysia. So I decided to stay put and concentrated on getting myself drunk.
Those kids were running and fooling around like they were in a playground or something. It was chaotic. One parent threatened an obese twelve-year old who was blocking his son’s view of the stage. Pandemonium engulfed the crowd when Parokya arrived and started to mount the stage. It was if the kids were suddenly possessed by malevolent spirits. I noticed the symptoms immediately: eyes rolling, excessive swearing, pulling of one’s hair, uncontrolled fits, and horrible body odors. I was tempted to conduct a mass exorcism but I didn’t bring my bottle of holy whisky, err, water. So I just went back to guzzling all the beer in front of me. But my attention was again caught by their low, murmuring voices. They were chanting something I couldn’t understand. I was suddenly gripped by fear! Was this the part of the satanic ritual where they would offer virgins to the altar? But I am no virgin! The susurrant voices continued. I could not comprehend what they were saying. Perhaps, it was a secret mantra in Latin or Hebrew. No, it sounded like they were chanting something in English. They kept repeating ‘papacolon’ over and over again. The murmurs grew louder and louder. Then, I noticed malefic activities inside the bar! Chairs were flying. The tables were moving. I thought I even saw one boy levitating. These were clear signs of diabolic infestation!
I ran away as fast as I could and screamed. The only thing in my mind that time was to escape from that place. I’ve read somewhere that proximity to evil persons and places can cause someone to become possessed. Tatcee, Mabster and the Bangladeshi guy ran after me. They caught me just outside the bar. They grabbed me by my shoulder and shook me hard. I looked at their red eyes and knew that they were now minions of the Dark Lord. I tried to scream again but instead loads of purplish-green vomit escaped from my mouth then I passed out. The next day I woke up with a major hangover. Merde.