When talent-nighting, have talent.
The place: Sukhumvit Soi 11, where all strata of Bangkok society shake the drips of Nana sleaze from their clothing to clink cocktails and dance to live music until the sun pierces the mist around the skyscrapers.

It was a clammy, hot night (for a change). We’d wrapped up the day’s meetings in time to step out into the afternoon sunshine, so none of us felt much like going home, and we opted for a jungle curry with rice and a beer or two before taking a couple of taxis to Suk 11. The theme of the evening was to be live and spontaneous.

After we descended from the taxis, one bar to our right caught our eye: a cosy but modern affair with a glass-panelled front, soft lighting and a bare brick mini-stage at the back for open mic acts. The place was owned by a couple of former radio DJs, so we figured it was a pretty safe bet in terms of hearing some real talent. We got the cocktails in and settled down for an evening of extremely eclectic entertainment, from the waif-like girl with a guitar who sounded spookily like Thom Yorke when she sang to the huge bare-chested guy who slapped a breakbeat on his chest to accompany himself.

Just before midnight a gaggle of local lads came through the door. They all looked barely old enough to be drinking in public, but you could see the bulge of their muscles through their short-sleeved shirts and they walked with the juiced-up swagger of Croydon’s finest. My colleague, who had lived in Bangkok for a little while, motioned with his head and murmured “Muay Thai”. The martial artists colonised a table and got enough drinks in to last the next four hours, and scanned the bar to check if any farang was looking at them funny.

The ambience in the bar was pretty relaxed and there was no particular reason to think anything would kick off, until two things happened more or less at once: a young guy selling leather jackets came through the door; and the next act took the mic. Mr. Leather Jacket clearly needed to make up his quota for the day as he was very persistent, waving the sleeves of his sample jacket in the faces of all the customers and saying “Leather, leather”. I took one look at this jacket and decided it was about as leather as a polyester raincoat, and waved him off. The Croydon crew were less genteel and started slapping him around a bit, tugging at the jacket and almost making the poor guy fall flat on his face. Then, in a split second, the entire table (including Mr. Leather Jacket) froze: the next act had begun to sing.

As one we turned to look at the stage and saw a twentysomething guy with a burgeoning gut putting a childbirth-worthy level of enthusiasm into singing My Heart Will Go On...in the manner of someone who had only seen a video of the original song on TV with the sound off. He sang in time, he got all the words right, but the melody was nowhere to be seen. A couple of glances exchanged to quell the bubbling hysteria amongst us later, and we mutually decided that he was not profoundly drunk; he was, instead, profoundly hard of hearing. This seemed to be confirmed when he kept blissfully singing despite the Muay Thai gang’s increasingly raucous shouts for him to shut up (I assume), which in fact only seemed to encourage him. His eyes closed and he turned his cherubic face upwards to belt out the chorus, and one of the lads decided he’d had enough. He loosened his grip on Mr. Leather Jacket’s collar and strode up to the stage before pouring his entire large beer into the amp.

The amp spat and crackled into silence, pouring forth a large cloud of dirty white smoke, and the singer popped open his eyes before lunging bleatingly at his latest critic. The guy was visibly stifling a laugh as he fended off the doughy fists of his opponent, and seemed to be calculating exactly how many ribs he was going to break to teach this guy a lesson.

It was then that our hero sprang into action.

With a speed that none of us expected of him, Mr. Leather Jacket ran up the stage, prised the two pugilists apart and slapped his finest product sample over the singer’s head, rushing him out of the bar like a policeman bundling a suspect into a waiting patrol car. The rest of us were still sitting there in a mixture of dumbfounded tension and relief that no blood had been spilled, and the patrons instantly waded in to calm their slap-happiest customers before they went off into the night after their prey. Of course, as soon as the source of excitement had been removed, the ambience very quickly returned to normal, and after the backup amp had been wheeled out, the next open mic act took the stage with little more than a hint of a quiver in her voice. On our table, we relaxed into our drinks and mulled over the fact that Thai fighters had just blown up the deaf star with the help of the young skai-hawker.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 12:51, 50 replies)

Oh, you bastard, you got me.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 12:54, closed)

Smoothly done. You had me there for a moment.
(Simian Typewriter Supplies Pty. Ltd. is house hunting in the neighborhood of infinity, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 12:58, closed)

Damn, got me.
If I wasn't so impressed I'd be irritated.
( Bats, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 12:59, closed)

Nice work

( Locus213 Slightly to the left of Bakunin, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:00, closed)

YoooooooOOOOOOOOOUUUUU FUCKER.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:04, closed)

Oh, you fucker.
*click*
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:10, closed)

I hate you with a passion you can only dream of.

( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:20, closed)

Oh, you utter tit.

(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:22, closed)

Fucking hell.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:34, closed)

hell gay
( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:25, closed)

It's people like you
*shakes fist* - sigh - click
( sneep used to date Freddie Starr's hamster, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:51, closed)

Don't get it.

( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 13:55, closed)

Oooh, nicely done.
Possibly the best I've ever seen :D
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 14:41, closed)

Am I missing something?

( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:35, closed)

An opportunity to point out you've never seen Star Wars, by the looks of it.
Keep chugging away though, I'm sure you'll hijack the thread eventually.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:20, closed)

He could tell Marcus Brigstocke
I think he actually cares...
(sarcastic fringehead feet of clay, buns of steel, head of lettuce, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:38, closed)

I have seen it...though not for a while.
No intention of hijacking the thread - just don't get the joke. The Star Wars I remember didn't have any martial-artists or karaoke.

Oh well. I shall remain happily in the dark.
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 17:30, closed)

happily in the dark wilfully autistic
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 17:43, closed)

Oh how exceedingly witty. Well done you.
I'll be on Twitter later if you fancy stalking me there too.
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 17:47, closed)

You keep using that word "stalking".

Don't you think it might be a good idea to ask mummy what it means? Or is she too busy managing your Monopoly houses.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 18:16, closed)

You're at it again!
When the seagulls follow the trawler etc...
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 22:25, closed)

hurr durr durr hurr durr
www.thefreedictionary.com/reply
www.thefreedictionary.com/stalk
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Sat 16 Mar 2013, 20:01, closed)

1: A stem or main axis of a herbaceous plant - not relevant here.

2: A stem or similar structure that supports a plant part such as a flower, flower cluster, or leaf - again, not relevant here.

3: A slender or elongated support or structure, as one that holds up an organ or another body part - sounds like that Badger twat.

4: To follow or observe (a person) persistently, especially out of obsession or derangement - bingo!
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Mon 18 Mar 2013, 10:20, closed)

Cunt!
*clicks*
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 14:54, closed)

Bloody hell
That was smooth with a capital smoo. Had me right up to the end.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:52, closed)

Is it churlish to point out
...that the TIE fighters were the ones defending, not attacking?

Yes, it probably is.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:56, closed)

Yes.
If by 'churlish' you mean 'fucking gay'
( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:24, closed)

Ah, bollix
Can we just agree that the TIE fighters contributed to the destruction by negligently failing to protect said Star?
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Mon 18 Mar 2013, 7:35, closed)

This is a long post. Is it space trek by any chance?

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:55, closed)

I thought it was Blake's Tardis,
but yes.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:57, closed)

I like Babylon Dwarf

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:59, closed)

Definitely better than Buck Rogers in The Tripods.

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:07, closed)

Prefer the sequel BD2: Backdoor Daleks

(sarcastic fringehead feet of clay, buns of steel, head of lettuce, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:34, closed)

Bumbots in disguise!

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:46, closed)

That's the only thing that could possibly make the next Transformers film worth watching
That and Rosie Huntingdon-Posho getting her wabs out.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 16:58, closed)

Magnificently told.
*click*
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 15:56, closed)

You bastard
just what b3ta has needed recently!

*click*
(baldpig pee'd in your pool on, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 17:49, closed)

Bra. Vo.
Cunt.
( Snappyuk gets BIGGER with free sample., Fri 15 Mar 2013, 18:11, closed)

Yes.

( 4Q just lurking, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 19:18, closed)

*Sigh* Very well done. Git
Click
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 19:41, closed)

Excellent work
You utter, utter shit.
(Gertcha_cowson NAH MATE, Fri 15 Mar 2013, 20:16, closed)

Oh you fucker, thats the first one to get through undetected, have a click you twat.
(Finster Ate a cat biscuit for a bet, Sat 16 Mar 2013, 0:51, closed)

you
Bastard! *click*
(bottle_cap, Sat 16 Mar 2013, 16:45, closed)

You
twat.
Got a big guffaw though.
(Le Grenouille, Sat 16 Mar 2013, 19:15, closed)

fuck sake
You Sir , are a cunt!

clicks
(boarders You won't catch me with my trousers, Sat 16 Mar 2013, 23:34, closed)

Well done
Bastard.
( 6821isnotmyPIN Bored cig., Sun 17 Mar 2013, 8:03, closed)

You had the punchline before you wrote the rest didn't you?

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Sun 17 Mar 2013, 12:23, closed)

You utter bastard..
You got me, right down to the last word..

*Golf Clap*

Pedant Edit: Although I always believed that the Thai Fighters didnt blow up anything, were'nt they X-Wings?..
(danniekavanagh did nothing constructive on, Mon 18 Mar 2013, 8:08, closed)

Yes
You and Moon Monkey correctly called me out on this. In mitigation, I wrote the original post at work and couldn't be arsed to check my facts, but I could have written something about former Chicago stage dancers who ended up working as bouncers to make ends meet and got into a brawl, thus becoming ex-swing fighters.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Mon 18 Mar 2013, 11:50, closed)

Twunt
Clicks.

About time....
(Suck it and Sea, Mon 18 Mar 2013, 9:02, closed)