Down Bugis street one night sitting at "peters" tables (remember him Chris) minding my own business trying to decide if I was going to kill one of the criss cross quiz boys or maybe just have another beer. For whatever reason Norway Chris then a "baby sailor" decides to pick a fight with the kytes who seem to have upset him. Now we all know there a shower of raving nosh, but on the other hand they are fuckin blokes and when there is a fuckin herd of them well, to be honest it's a lot of bother when you are under the weather. So the fracas starts and punches thrown, a few of the lads do a quick commando raid and get Chris back, before they shagged him to death. Over the other side of the street a bunch of the sexually confused emerge from cover and throw a bottle that hits Brum fu.....d on the head. Now I have eaten a big lump of something guaranteed to keep me awake. So down I charge at the kytes like fuckin john Wayne and smack a bastard right on the shonk. As I walk away one sneaky bitch bottles me, and opens my head like a friggin melon. Now usually this blow would have stunned shrek, but the stay awake food was not having it. I turned like fuckin Bruce Lee ( ever seen a kytes eyes bulge) and twats the fucker who bottled me. Bleeding like a stuck pig the lads decide to do an emergency ward ten on me and fix me up with tissue and maskers. (Who the fuck took maskers ashore? Good man) and I was repaired without leaving the street. Once we had explained to Norway Chris kicking the shit out of kytes is not good and calling on them for a multi lateral ceasefire, we stayed and tried to catch that elusive sunrise over Bugis street. I did as a matter of fact as I could not sleep, but unfortunately my claim was unsubstantiated so dismissed. So forlorn and battered we picked ourselves up packed Norway Chris into a suitable conveyance ( a black bag or something and wove our weary way back to Sembawang for 7.30 ready to turn too at 08 dubs. I survived Chris that day but there were others believe me.