Sombat Knackersack's Isaan adventure
Sombat Knackersack was a simple man. A product of a long line of subsistence farmers who eked out an existence on the scorched Isaan soil, he was a gentleman hankering for little more than a regular slurp of his favourite alcoholic tipple and the occasional thicket fumble with a village whoopsie. His recreational pursuits, however, had seen our good Mr Knackersack accrue many a black mark to his name...
Having sired a dozen or more children, all of whom were callously neglected whenever a pay day came to pass, Sombat had become hate figure among the female contingent.
And one evening, after imbibing a quite obscene measure of the indigenous brew, not only did he wantonly defecate all over the local shop keeper's fastidiously fashioned fruit and vegetable display, but he was also compelled to perform a series of hateful carnal acts in a neighbouring pig pen.
That was it. Enough was enough.
Banished to the big smoke by an incensed Poo Yai Baan, Sombat used his scant savings and boarded a Bangkok bound train. He spent the subsequent 16 months routing through rubbish bins, amassing piles of recycleable refuse and essentially exchanging them for small bottles of alcohol.
Even though he had become accustomed to urban living, Sombat still yearned for those rustic days of yore. And with Songkran now around the corner, he decided that a trip back into the never never should transpire, perchance to make amends with his erstwhile farming companions.
Sombat left on the April 10. After begrudgingly using his last 500 baht for a bus ticket, he nestled into a seat at the back of the vehicle and began making in roads into the large bottle of Lau he had bought especially for the journey.
Two hours into the trip, though, Sombat was unceremoniously ejected from the vehicle. He had taken fantastic offence at the lady sitting next to him who was apparently chewing her betel nut parcel with a little too much gusto for his liking. In a bid to illustrate his frustration, Sombat unzipped his fly and proceeded to urinate in the mortar before beating her unconscious with the pestle.
Now, after just having breached the north-east Thai boundary, Mr Knackersack found himself very drunk, very angry, very lost, and very, very skint.
In a village called Klang Dong in Nakhon Ratchasima province, Sombat sipped at the dawdling contents of his bottle and considered his next move...
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As luck would have it, just as he was mulling over the finer points of stabbing himself in the throat with a sharpened stick, Sombat managed to hitch a ride a few clicks up the road on a motorcycle. Yet this only served to deposit our hero deeper into the wilderness, where a harem of musky harlots tended lazily to their cassava plantation...
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To be continued...