Lynette's Box

The scene: the M Lab. The players: me, Tan Meng Yoe, Lynette Goh, and Chien Aun. The scenario: Lynette laughing like a total maniac.

Lynette is one of my junior junior juniors (being three years behind me at university, I think. Though by definition, since I am no longer around when she started, I am not her senior senior senior). I don't know her very well, truth be told, with the exception of several exchanged jokes (she has demonstrated a high level of propensity for lameness. Which is good). In fact, I can list down the things that I do know about her right now:

1. She's Chinese.

2. She's Christian.

3. She is Meng Yoe's new muse, having had roles in his last three films (most memorably as Hottie Harriot in Idiot Nation).

And that's it.

However, on that fateful day in the M Lab (popularly referred to as Cheesy Studios), I gained an insight into what makes her tick. In fact, it was more than an insight: it was as if the gates of Troy has opened and let loose a stream of Greeks into the city that is the world outside.

If, of course, if the gates of Troy is her mouth, and the stream of Greeks is a series of asthma attacks.

I was facing away from her, writing something on the computer. Meng Yoe, Chien and our star Lynette was behind. Meng Yoe being Meng Yoe, he was telling a joke or something like it. I wasn't sure what it was, and, truth be told, I wasn't sure what it was that was to follow either.

It started with a sharp intake of breath, almost like a knee jerk reaction to having choked on a piece of meat stuck in your oesophagus. It followed through, unlike the stuck meat, as if on repeat, a series of sudden shrieks and quick, heavy breathing.

I turned, preparing to face the hyena behind. Instead, I found Lynette having a hard time to breathe. Or at least it looks like it. It would have prompted a more serious reaction from me...had Meng Yoe and Chien not be laughing at the same time.

And then I cottoned on.

“Is she laughing?” I asked, a question so obvious that the blind would've slapped me for not noticing. Didn't seem that obvious to me at that time, though, as she continued her laboured heaving.

“Goodness,” I mentioned, moving in closer to look at her contorted face, her eyes squinted out of existence. “Girl, you're dangerous. One minute, I'd be telling you a lame joke, the next minute, the police would come and handcuff me for choking you to death.”

Unfortunately, I did not forsee the fact that this statement would actually make her laugh harder. Not that much harder, but enough for me to hold my hands up and proclaim my innocence.

Which, somehow, provoked more laughter and more guilt on my part.

I suppose this is a case of the proverbial box of Pandora being opened (and this is not at all a metaphor for Lynette's mouth) :>