If you know a Filipino, you will understand what I'm on about here.

The temperature has been around freezing point lately. There is nothing better to do in this time of the year except stuff myself with comfort food. Two days ago, a parcel of dried and salted fish arrived. Not being able to contain my excitement, I cooked about a dozen of them, while K and Zak were out. Knowing how K would react to the smell, I threw all the windows in the kitchen open. I was already blue when the dried fish was cooked and my fingers felt like they were going to fall off, but hey, I have under my nose the best food in the world.

K and Zak passed by the open windows, came in through the door and declared that they have a new business idea to propose to Dragon's Den: an airspray to combat uncontrollable yobbos, burglars and would-be terrorists. The airspray content would be the smell of cooked dried fish. The potency of a single spray would be equivalent to a million trapped farts with a mixture of pasta vomit. If I agree, I'd be a multi-millionaire in no time. But I have to stop cooking and eating dried fish.

I stared at them trying so hard to stop my chin from shivering. Then we all sat down in the lounge. I ate my dried fish and rice with my coat on while K, Zak and Lewis had their fingers clipped on their noses.