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The Chronicles of Foster Foskin’s Adventures in Thailand #17

  • Written by Marc Holt
  • March 12th, 2007
  • 14 min read




Oh crikey! Now I’m in the poo. The ol’ Fos has really put ‘is foot in it this time. Well, actually it wasn’t me. My shiela set me up and I never even saw it comin’

But maybe I’d better start at the beginnin’ so youse can catch up with me, eh?

Life’s bloody strange, ain’t that the truth?
Yer spend yer first years in misbegotten youth
And by the time yer’ve learned a few things
Yer’ve made yer mistakes, but it’s too bloody late,
The grim reaper’s rappin’ already at the gate

Now what I’m about ter tell yer isn’t quite that bad
But by the time I’m finished, yer might feel sad
The fact is ol’ Foster’s already bought the rings
We’ve gone way beyond the first bloody date
And the horses are ready ter sprint out the gate

If youse haven’t already figured it out
Nok and me have gone and cleared all our doubts
We’re gonna get married, yeah hitched up right tight
The ol’ Fos is leavin’ his single days at last
I’m stowin’ me bad old ways into the past

Now don’t youse worry about me good mates
This time I’m sober, it’s not just the fates
It’s been a while comin’, that’s fer bloody sure
I reckon I love her, this girl in me arms
She’s a you-beaut keeper. I love all ‘er charms

So let’s get on with the story of how we got here
I’ll tell yer the tale and make it real clear
We’ll follow the trail laid by love’s sweet charms
If yer’ll promise not ter chuck in the blue Pacific sea
It’s time ter tell youse what’s been happenin’ to me

Now, I’m not the marryin’ kind, so youse have ter understand that this is probably more of a shock to me than it is ter you. When I left Godzone I never thought I’d get hitched. I only came up here on a sex tour. Jeez! What a turnabout. Me gettin’ married? How the heck did this happen?

Things started changin' after that famous golf game’. Nok, Bluey and me had been havin’ a good ol’ chortle at the crap that was fallin’ down on Johnny Galt’s head. The cops had locked him up at first for destroying the golf club house, but then things really started hummin’.

The silly bastard started throwin’ accusations left right and center, includin’ tellin’ the cops I was a pervert. The idiot said that me woman was only twelve years old!

Well, when the fuzz turned up on me doorstep I welcomed ‘em in with a beer and a smile and Nok on me arm. I have to admit, Nok doesn’t look her age, but no way could yer ever say she was only twelve. Galt must have been even more out of ‘is mind than usual if he thought that accusation was gonna stick.

We sat down ter talk, the cops and me, and soon got things sorted out. I explained that Galt had been stalkin’ me and that ‘e was a bloody nuisance. They started noddin’ as I told them about me meetin’s with the prick and by the time we’d downed a few more tinnies they were smilin’ at me. I’d regaled ‘em with the story of tyin’ him up ter the tree, and they was havin’ a good old laugh at that.

Of course, I let ‘em go on thinkin’ Galt was responsible for all the destruction. I didn’t want ter see me old mate the Professor gettin’ locked up again, especially as he was orf consumatin’ his marriage somewhere at last….at least I hope he was.

Then I dropped it on ‘em. “Did youse find them two underage teenagers the Galt was hangin’ around with?” I asked innocently.

“Eh?” they said, their ears prickin’ up as they asked me ter tell. But I played it dumb and just said that I was worried that his ‘daughters’, as he called ‘em, might be in trouble. I give ’em a big wink as I said this and grinned wider than the Sydney Harbour bridge.

It didn’t take ‘em long ter twig to what I was suggestin’ and the big chief with scrambled egg all over his hat barked out an order in Thai. I was openin’ a couple more tinnies as three of his men raced out the door.

Lookin’ innocent I asked him what was goin’ on. “Oh don’t you wolly, Mr Foskin. I sent my men to Galt’s place to check it out. Let’s relax and have another beer while we wait for their report. Maybe we’ll have time for some dinner too, if you like.”

I stood up, stuck out me hand and said, “Captain, please call me Fos. All me friends do. I’m very happy ter meet you. I reckon we’ll get on like a house on fire.”

At this he looked alarmed. “Where is the fire Mr Fos?”

“No, no, Captain, it’s an Australian sayin’ that means we’ll be very good friends. What’s yer name, by the way?”

“My name is Vichai.”

We shook hands and sank back into the sofas grabbin’ our beers again as we relaxed and started chattin’.

Now here was a man I could get ter like immensely. We have the same priorities in life: Beer, women, havin’ fun.

I reckoned he was a bit young to be a police captain. He only looked about thirty, but yer never can tell with these Thais. He might of been fifty for all I knew. He was solidly built, with a strong face that looked like it knew what was what. A good man ter have on your side any time.

Not ten minutes later his walkie-talkie squawked and I could hear an excited Thai jabber. The captain’s eyes lit up, he jabbered back and then stood up.

“Come on Mr Fos, I think we hit the jackpot! Velly big case coming up and much merit for me. Hee, hee, hee.” He was cacklin’ like a Lubra on hot coals as he grabbed me arm and dragged me out the door.

I’ve never seen a cop this excited before. I was wonderin’ what his men had found. Ah well, no time ter ponder. We piled into his Mercedes and raced up the road, siren blarin’ and lights flashin’. In no time at all we pulled up outside what looked like a slum. The apartment building hadn’t been painted since Methusela was a young man. There was garbage overflowin’ out of the bins. A pack of mangy dogs slunk back into the shadows as we screeched to a stop outside the front doors.

Flashin’ lights everywhere lit up the scene in blues and reds, painting the faces of the TV camera crew and a bunch of reporters pushin’ and shovin’ against a police cordon. Me new mate raced us past the barrier and up the stairs to the first floor. There was cops everywhere, all craning their necks tryin’ ter peer into one of the apartment doors.

We pushed our way through and the old sergeant who’d been at my hotel came up and saluted Vichai. More jabbering and then he led us into a bedroom. The walls were covered with photos of young girls in various stages of undress. I reckon some of the girls were no older than ten or eleven. I nearly retched. We were in the lair of a pedophile.

“Who lives ‘ere, Vichai?” I asked, hopin’ me suspicions were right.

“That man Galt, he lives here, Mr Fos. He velly bad man. Lucky we lock him up already or maybe he have accident trying to escape police custody.”

I nodded in agreement. I felt like wringin’ the little turd’s neck meself.

As yer can imagine, the press was all over it. Vichai happily took them down to the police station so they could get pictures after his press conference. He was goin’ ter milk the story fer all ‘e was worth. I didn’t reckon Galt would get out of this one. Serve the silly bugger right. If I’d known what he really was I’d of let the Foster girls use those bloody shears while he was tied up, as they had wanted to.

I’d had enough. I went back to me hotel and up to the room. Nok was waitin’ for me, but I wasn’t feelin’ too sociable right then. I jumped under the shower and tried to wash the stench off. I stood under the hot water for half an hour. Even then I didn’t really feel clean yet. I needed some time ter get me head in order.

Nok didn’t ask any questions. She saw I was upset, so she just came into the bathroom when the water stopped and dried me off while I stood there, me shoulders drooping in sadness.

Then she walked me to the bedroom and I lay down. She closed the curtains, went to the mini bar and brought me a beer. But I pushed it away and stared at the ceiling.

“How can a man do that to such young girls, Nok?” I asked. She wiped away a tear dribblin’ down me face and lay down beside me with her arms around me.

I dunno how long we lay there, but we looked at each other in the twilit room after a while and she said, “Foster, I give you my heart forever. You are the only man for me.”

Well, I felt much the same so I said, “Nok, yer a bonza shiela, ya know?”

With that, she gave me this real soppy look and said, “Oh Foster! Do you want to marry me?”

I sat up in surprise. “Well, er….errrr…” what can a man say when a beaut shiela asks somethin’ like that?

Just then a huge bloody mozzie bit me on the top of me leg and I looked down ter see if I could swat it. I think Nok took that for a nod. The next thing I know, she gave an excited little scream and grabbed hold of me in a bear hug. “Oh Foster! Thank you so much. We will be very happy together and I will make many beautiful babies for us.”

And that was how it happened. I reckon she caught me in a weak moment, but do yer know what? I don’t mind a bit. Here’s a shiela who loves me for what I am. Just a man, warts and all. What else could be better than that, eh?

The next mornin’ we woke up late and Nok turned on the TV. The news came on just as she was pourin’ me coffee. “Mr John Galt, the man responsible for destroying the Phoenix Golf Club, was charged last night with pedophilia after police raided his apartment and found dozens of nude pictures of young girls. Police confiscated his computer where they found evidence that he is a member of a worldwide pedophilia ring. Galt was selling pictures of young girls over the Internet, as well as organizing sex tours for members of his ring. Police have supplied the names of other members of the ring to police in several countries, and it is believed several arrests are underway…..”

“Turn it off love. I don’t want ter hear any more thanks.”

Just then there was a knock at the door and Nok went to open it. Vichai strode in, a huge grin on his face. “Ah, Foster my very good friend! I came to thank you for helping me arrest this terrible villain. Tonight we must all go out and celebrate. I have been promoted to police commander of the eastern seaboard. Oh! I am so very, very happy. And I owe it all to you.”

I smiled and told him that Nok and me were goin’ ter get married too, so we would have a double celebration.

That night put me back to what I call normal again. Nok and me was drinkin’ champagne, Bluey drank a case of Chang all by himself. And wonder of wonders, he scored a good lookin’ shiela ter take back to the hotel.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Just after the main course Bluey got up with the band and tried croonin’ with ‘em. If yer have ever heard a kookaburra laughin’ then youse’ll know what that was like. But he wouldn’t get down. I could see the band puttin’ cotton wool in their ears.

Poor Bluey. The only one who seemed to like his attempts at singin’ was the lead singer, a real stunnin’ looker. She finally grabbed Bluey’s arm when the band took a break and walked him back to the table. They sat down and Bluey introduced her. “This is Nina and she’s from the Philippines.” We all welcomed her to join us.

Bluey has an amazing capacity fer beer, so I reckon what happened next was because he was smitten by Nina.

There was a good breeze blowin’ through the restaurant. It was strong enough ter blow Nina’s bag off the table and across the floor. Bluey was up like a shot after it. As he ran, he bumped into a table and knocked the candle in its bowl of oil over. The tablecloth caught fire and the breeze jumped the flames into a nearby plastic bush. The next thing we know the flames are leapin’ up the wooden trellis supportin’ a vine and pretty soon the bloody restaurant is a mass of flames. Bluey never did catch that bloody purse.

When I saw what was happenin’ I raced after him and dragged him yellin’ loudly out to the street and safety. Captain Vichai bundled us into his Merc and drove us away before anyone had time ter grab Bluey.

We got back ter the hotel and Vichai said, “I think you should leave Pattaya early tomorrow morning my friends. I can protect you for a little while, but if you are still here tomorrow I will have to arrest you for destroying the restaurant. I will talk to the owner and make sure the insurance company covers the destruction.”

We thanked him profusely and I handed him a case of Chang as he was leavin’. It was all I had ter thank him with fer bein’ such a good friend.

Just as he got to the door he turned around, a bit like Columbo used ter, and said, “Well, at least we know where the fire was now, eh Fos?” And with that he gave me a big wink and a smile and left. I wouldn’t ferget him in a hurry. A real bonzer bloke.

I looked at Bluey and Nok and said, “Well. Here we go again mates. Looks like it’s time fer us ter get out of town again. Where do yer reckon we should go this time?”

Nok thought for a minute and then she said, “I’ve always wanted to have an Esarn wedding. Why don’t we go up to Ubon Rachathani and get married up there?”

Bluey and me shrugged and said, “Why not?”

So it was decided. We packed our gear and headed downstairs to hire a van to take us right away. There wasn’t no point in hangin’ around, eh?


———————————————

The boys take off for Ubon where Nok prepares for the wedding and Foster tries out the local grub….

© Copyright 2007 by the author.


Struggling with the Australian slang? We call it Strine. Go here to find out what it all means:
http://www.koalanet.com.au/australian-slang.html
or
http://www.aussieslang.com/slang/australian-slang-a.asp

Stickman's thoughts:

A fun fictional story.