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Harpreet Singh was a NCY cabbie. He loved

  • Harpreet Singh was a NCY cabbie. He loved his job. His prodigious memory and friendly chattiness made him the best cabbie in the city. He never forgot a face or an address until
  • 10 seconds the customer entered the cab. "Who are you? What are you doing back there?" He would often ask. Once, Mr. Singh got very annoyed with a man claiming he needed to get to
  • Vector 5. Singh said, "Look. I got a business ok. Don't monkey around!" Then the cab passenger's face unzipped down the middle revealing
  • the "Fly of Despair," a highbrowly-named hellish dimension. Singh had no interest in being sucked in, so he didn't make the passenger pay his cab fare.
  • Singh mopped his brow, inter-dimensional taxi service had its perks, he often finished day before he even got up in the morning. However, he was assigned to the lower dimensions.
  • All this was punishment for the whole Khan dealy, Singh kept reminding himself. Still, behind each wormhole was a new fare on his taxi service, but that meant a new dilemma.
  • Namely, as Singh had never driven his taxi south of the river past 9pm IN HIS LIFE, would negotiating wormholes constitute a breach of this long-held mantra. We all know that crumb
  • fried chicken enhances reasoning. Singh was eating it with his hands as he drove his taxi, greasing the steering wheel. AHA! He could use the wormholes after 9pm -- IN HIS DEATH!
  • Singh's eyes burned like fire & he sped his taxi down 5th Avenue, unhinged & smelling like Colonel Sanders. A well-dressed woman wearing a fur coat held out her leather-gloved hand
  • and said "Stop son, I need a ride. I'm supposed to throw the shotput at the Special Olympics today." But Singh couldn't stop, he had to make this fried chicken delivery on time

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