Money.
Tan Pan Ting wandered around the streets depressed. A promoter handed her a leaflet, ‘188 dollars for five hours of singing.’
Tan Pan Ting was drawn to the karaoke bar’s grand opening cake on the leaflet. Her stomach rumbled. She remembered she didn’t get to eat her lunch before the f’king b.a.s.t.a.r.d cheated on her, and the vixen fired her.
Tan Pan Ting walked into the karaoke bar. The hostesses treated her like royalty because it was a Monday, and not many customers came to the karaoke bar’s grand opening.
‘Miss, my name is Money,’ Money said. ‘I’ll show you to a VIP room.’
Tan Pan Ting was too deep in thoughts about her single and jobless status to think about how strange it was for someone to call themselves Money.
In the karaoke room, Tan Pan Ting screeched ten heartbreak songs in a row. Usually she was a good singer, but her voice was affected by alcohol and anger. She continued to choose songs like a broken heart in h.e.l.l for the five hour singing marathon.
Outside Tan Pan Ting’s karaoke room, two hostesses were gossiping about Tan Pan Ting.
‘I didn’t think a woman her age would come to a karaoke bar in the middle of a Monday afternoon,’ a hostess said. ‘Why isn’t she at work?’
‘Didn’t you see her red eyes and the big stack of money in her purse before?’ Money asked.
‘What do you mean?’ the hostess asked.
‘She’s a night worker,’ Money said and winked.
‘Oh…’ the hostess said.
If Tan Pan Ting could hear the two hostesses speculating she was a hooker, she would have come out of the karaoke room to give the two hostesses an earful.
Tan Pan Ting didn’t hear, but an old fat man in his forties overheard the two hostesses talking when he walked out of the toilet. He waited for the two hostesses to serve another customer before he entered Tan Pan Ting’s karaoke room.
Tan Pan Ting had taken her jacket off, because she was hot singing in the private room. She wore a red backless work outfit, and a pink bra under her jacket. When she felt someone’s fat hand touched her back, she screamed into the microphone.
‘Get your filthy hand off me,’ Tan Pan Ting said.
The old man took out several hundred dollar notes, and he slipped it into Tan Pan Ting’s pocket. He loved beautiful women, especially if they laid on his bed of money.
‘Let me take good care of you,’ the old man said. ‘You don’t have to play coy with me. I know you love money. I can give you money. I can make you a famous hooker if you show me a good time.’
Tan Pan Ting slapped the old man, kicked him in his b.a.l.l.s and she hit his head with her bag.
‘You MF, I’m not a hooker,’ Tan Pan Ting said. ‘You can roast like a fat pig in h.e.l.l. I’m going to call the cops to arrest you.’
The old man hunched over in pain. Then his men walked into the room.
‘Here you are,’ one of the men said. ‘We’ve been looking for you.’
The old man’s eyes gleamed, and he pointed at Tan Pan Ting.
‘Feel free to sample this woman,’ the old man said. ‘Today is my treat.’
The old man wanted to make Tan Pan Ting pay for daring to hit him.
The group of men restrained Tan Pan Ting.
‘Ah!’ Tan Pan Ting cried out. ‘Someone help! There are rapists in the room! Help! Someone call the cops! You MFs get your hands off me!’
Suddenly the door was broken down by cops. Money had called the cops when she saw a suspicious group of men entered Tan Pan Ting’s room.
End of Chapters Thirteen to Fifteen