A few days ago, while Azim and I were driving around the outskirts of Dubai viewing the new apartments that were up for sale, we viewed something else instead.
It looked like it needed a good tummy rub, no?
Scarrrry marry berry oh Larry!!
We saw the carnage from afar (when we got kinda lost whilst trying to find our way to another showroom appointment!) and so we proceeded to make a big turn to take a real rubbernecker look at it (sanggup..kaypoh nak mampos punya pasal!). As we drove closer, we saw how bad the accident was but we saw no bodies pinned underneath those big-assed wheels or those gargantuan metal truck pieces so Raihan-The-Pengecut wasn't traumatized. Neither did we see any pools or traces of blood, which significantly gave me hope that the ill-fated driver of that monstrous terbalik truck is somewhat okay. InsyaAllah.
Aaahh...sapa mau beli nombor skarang?! Menang jangan lupa ah orang kat sini!
Anyway, when I am not traumatized by a disturbing incident, a sick kind of perverted need manifests itself in my morally-challenged core. This need would nurture an unscratchable gatalness to see some more of the scary stuff. So we (i.e Raihan paksa Azim) decided to make another turn and circle the eyesore once again. However, upon our second vulture-like circle, Azim read out to me, loudly and clearly, what was painted on the backside of the truck in big black letters, which we somehow failed to notice earlier:-
"Explosive Liquids - 10 000 gallons"
Azim looked at Raihan. Raihan looked at Azim.
No words were needed.
We floored the gas and fled the scene faster than you can say "Boom!".
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