Ok peopulation, lots of you – ok technically just one person in the whole wide world – have been clamoring to hear news of the awesome one.
Currently life has gone into extreme suckathon mode. So Cheapo will tell you about some of his earlier adventures.
Extreme Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion vs The Ruling Junta
Some of you know her, some of you know of her…the rest of you are unlucky
Ever since your favorite Uncle was known in the plebeian proletariat circles as Wee Baby Cheapo (loong looooong time ago, in those ancient days lost in the mysts of time when men were men, singers could sing, actors could act and vampires did not fucking sparkle) the Esteemed Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion has been dabbling with blood.
In fact, critics opine that she must have been of the Draculaistic persuasion in her earlier avatars.
For example, when Wee Baby Cheapo used to complain about leg pains and tiredness, the Nutter used to extract blood for ‘testing’; when Wee Baby Cheapo used to declare that he wasn’t hungry anymore (usually after a couple of lunches), the Nutter used to extract blood for ‘testing’; when Wee Baby Cheapo used to proclaim that he wasn’t sleepy anymore (usually after a 10 hr wee nap)…the Nutters used to…..well you get the picture.
She once took on a whole compartment full of ticketless Biharis.
So, suffice to say that more or less nothing scares her.
Now, when your favorite Uncle left Jai Telenganaaaaland, he had contracted Agarwal Packers and Movers to bring his 23 cartons of books and 3 cartons of other stuff to West Bangladesh. One fine day, they arrived.
Unfortunately, alleged members of the ruling junta also arrived with them. Their claim – since they are the sons of the soil, only they would unload stuff, outsiders not allowed.
Tripartite arguments between Agawal, ruling junta and the Esteemed Nutter of the Paternal Persuasion ensued. But bear in mind, these are the guys who have kicked out the Commie bossturds – something not even USAUSAUSA has ever managed to do – and so were in no mood to be reasonable.
When all talks failed and the books seemed doomed, up she went.
She opened a drawer, took out a bracelet, clasped it on and went out.
Have you witnessed a tornado ripping through Kansas or Eomer and his Rohirrim ripping through the Uruk Hai or just about anybody ripping through the French army or Drogba ripping through the Arsenal defence??
Something similar happened. The ruling, all conquering junta did not know what hit them.
With the same sheer inevitability of death, taxes and government clerks, there was only one winner.
The ruling junta skunked off with their tails tucked firmly between their legs and the Esteemed Nutter of the Maternal Persuasion returned in a triumphant procession and immediately went back to her favorite pastime – nagging Fat Uncle Cheapo to get married.
All of you know that Fat Uncle Cheapo is awesome. In fact, he is often called the Proletariat Savior of the Plebeian Masses.
And, similar to all great men, he has collected a plethora of enemies.
Jealous of his intelligence, wit, charisma, awesome beard and ruggedly handsome good looks, his enemies have formed a cabal consisting of intellectuals, cultural studies people, terrorists, so called liberals and the bourgeois.
They have been trying to top your favorite Uncle off for a long time and recently they struck again.
There Fat Uncle Cheapo was, waddling towards the British Council, bag piled full of books….when out of nowhere appeared the poster boys for nefarious heinosity. They got out knives and attacked your favorite Uncle.
This is the Fat Uncle Cheapo baby. Using his Ninjaesque reflexes, and shouting “this is Kolkataaaa (metaphorically)” he tried to block the knives and scare off the terrorists.
Cheapo was stabbed, but only slightly.
Seeing the agitation, Cheapo’s people – the plebeian proletariat masses also came forward to help. The people love him.
He loves you too, random citizens.
Anyway, the people suggested that Uncle go to the police. However, his past brushes have given him an unique insight into the workings of the police mind and he knows that whenever someone (who is not a politician) approaches the police, he or she gets assaulted with questions regarding his or her name, age, marital status, occupation and the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow.
In short, going to the police is usually a massive waste of time. Uncle does not waste time, so he did what any reasonable, right-thinking individual would do – he went to a nearby restaurant and had some parathas. (bandages would come later)
Fat Uncle Cheapo was selected by the British Council for a workshop for budding writers…and then from the workshop, he was selected to write a 4000 word horror story with the deal being that if it was any good, then Scholastic would publish it.
Now, those of you who have read it know that the horror story turned out to be an unmitigated disaster.
But there is a reason for that.
You see, during the workshop, another of the participants turned out in an ensemble comprising red spectacles, yellow shirt, fluorescent grey belt, black corduroy pants and sky blue shoes.
The horror, the horror!!!
There was no way Uncle’s story could top that!!!
Anyway, whatever doesn’t kill him makes him stronger.
And Fat Uncle Cheapo has so far survived
Falling off a train
Falling off a bus
Falling off a tram
Getting smashed by a car
Getting lost in the metro when he was Wee Baby Cheapo
Jyotika Khullar’s abuses
Vision of Ratnadev Chanda’s teeth
A blinking contest with a billy goat
and this apparition
So Mayan Apocalypse, come at him, bro!!!
Premankur Biswas’s Potatoes
Yep, his thick, juicy, succulent, round, sweet and spicy potatoes.
You see, Fat Uncle Cheapo was recently invited to an “I Can See Gay People” event.
It was a carnival and there were games, stalls etc to celebrate the rights of gay people (and Cheapo supports that)
and there were Premankur Biswas’s potatoes.
And they were utterly bloody delicious.
In fact, if you haven’t sucked the rich, thick juices off Premankur’s Biswas’s potatoes, then you haven’t lived.
So there you go.