Episode VI: Why I Hate Interrogation Rooms

There is no show called CSI: Bangkok, Crime Scene Investigation fans will tell you. They may not be able to tell you why, but I can: it's because the episodes would all be about 20 minutes long and however they started would always end in a bribe. At least if our experience is anything to go by.

I don't know what it was I did to make whatever higher power controls our lives like me, but on our last night in Bangkok I was given a gift from up high in the form of a treasure chest of stand-up material. I fully intend to harvest that next time I find myself on a stage, but for you blog fans (we love you, by the way) I'm going to chuck out a few shiny coins.

So as ever you've got your me and you've got your Charlie, picture us mentally now. Take the mental picture you have of us and put a very small, fluorescent lit room around us. Got it? Now sit us down at a table, and insert into this glorious mental picture three or four of Bangkok's finest cops. Yes as perhaps we were always bound to, we got arrested. We got the shit arrested right out of us, Thailand style.

I don't wanna go to Thai prison, man. I'm too young and ladylike, they'd be swapping me around for cigarettes! Failing that rolling up old boy and smoking me! I'd be getting bench pressed by a 7ft 300lb Thai guy named Nancy by sundown, I'd be getting squeezed out to provide a tasty sauce for prison rice! I could go on, and believe me over the course of that night I did, but I'll spare you any further mental images.

The interrogation room was basically like Bushwackers in Swindon. You're let in by a couple of big burly dickheads on a major power trip, the threat of violence is constantly bubbling under the surface, it's a terrible place to be on drugs and the music is terrible. Ok so there was no music but other than that it's a pretty valid comparison. And, like Bushwackers, we weren't in there long before we knew we had to get out of there quick regardless of the fee. Except of course our friends in blue wanted to make us sweat. And I tell you now my friends if I were in a sauna rocketed to space, burning up in our Earth's atmosphere I still wouldn't have sweated as much as I did then. I mean, Jesus! Thai prison? I've seen Bridget Jones 2, I know what goes down. But you have to keep your composure out there, keeping face is a sign of respect so we were giving it some of this:

When really we felt a lot more like this:

Damn I forgot what I was trying to prove with these images...basically, we're handsome.

Anyway so we're there, in the interrogation room across the table from the cops and their fish with a sleazy scouse convict and his hooker girlfriend. Cliffhanger! Hurgh!

To Be Continued...