PATTAYA, Thailand – Mei Ling had been shopping for three hours straight, cosmetics, fake Chanels, and enough whitening cream to scare a ghost. Her loud bargaining attracted song-taew drivers and a fruit vendor who came to watch. After struggling with QR code payment, she gave up and screamed.
“Why so diffucurr to pay in Thailong? In China no plobrem. I put my phone on masheen and is fineesh.” “Madame, you not do collecly. Let me hewp you.” The salesgirl tried. “No! I do correc-ry! Your masheen bad.”
Back at the hotel, she called her cousin in Guangzhou to show off her bargains.
“Aiya! Mei Ling! Awrr yo stuff you buy come from here! Why don’t you buy Taiga balm?”
“We don’ have good cream. We make from prastic and we laber it from Sheep Uterus. Ok, I go rook for my husbane. He gone away wong time arleady.”
Her husband, Mr. Chen, tired of waiting and hearing “Just one more shop!” decided to go for a walk alone. Wearing shorts, sandals, and carrying his latest purchase, a selfie stick with built-in ring light, he wandered down Beach Road, stopping every ten steps to take another peace-sign and rabbit ear selfies.
A flickering sign caught his eye: “MAGIC THEATRE – Tonight Only!” Curious, and thinking it might make good content for his Ningbo Face book followers, Mr. Chen bought a ticket and went inside. The theatre was small and smoky, tucked between a massage shop called Nirvana Hands and a kebab stand run by a tattooed Belgian named Lars. It smelled faintly of incense, dried squid, and fried garlic. The audience was a mix of backpackers, Russians arguing over vodka, a sleepy Australian couple eating mango sticky rice, a sunburnt British man in a football shirt loudly asking where to get a proper pint, “This is a ridiculous baby glass! Bollocks!”, and an Indian man nervously chewing on a samosa.
The Indian was Rajiv from Mumbai. He and his five friends were supposedly in Pattaya for “business” buying a nightclub. Instead, they spent their days sharing one Chang a day among them, eating pakoras, bargaining with one girl under the coconut tree, and smoking weed at a beach shack run by a guy named DJ Tony, who wasn’t a DJ. Rajiv had lost his friends after a detour to a ladyboy disco and found himself here by accident, still slightly high and wearing sunglasses indoors.
A tall Thai woman in a tight sequined dress handed Rajiv a flyer and whispered, “Magic man very good. Can turn man into… what you like.” She winked. Rajiv blushed through his beard. The Great Coco the Magician appeared late, wearing a glittering cape and a mischievous smile. Behind him, two glamorous ladyboys assisted, sprinkling sparklers and adjusting his cape with professional flair.
“Wewcome!” he said. “Peepare for Magic!” He began with a card trick with missing queens, then a hypnosis. Failing to transform a British tourist into a chicken until the man’s wife shouted, “He’s already a chicken shit. He’s drunk as a fish, might as well make him fish and chips! Get off the stage, Harry, you fool!”
Chen was recording and laughing his pale ass off. Frustrated, Coco turned to him.
“You! Don’ bereeve?! Come here!” He shoved Harry down the stage. “You no good for my magic.” Mr. Chen stood up, still filming on his phone. “Ok, ok, make magic for my TikTok! I have many follower on Wechat” he said excitedly, holding up his selfie stick.
“Rady and Genterman, look crose!” Coco waved his wand. “I make him disappear!” A puff of smoke, a flash of light. Where Mr. Chen had stood was now a chicken. A very confused, plump chicken with a faint smell of instant noodles. One ladyboy assistant picked him up. “Ooh, velly hewwy. Roast Peking duck!” The audience roared.
Rajiv laughed, spewing out his samosa. He raised his hand. “My turn! My turn! Make me disappearrr! No no, vait vait!” He thought for a second, pulled his beard and said “Make me Bollywood princess, yes yes.” he said in his thick accent, bobbing his head.
Coco smiled and waved his wand again. Suddenly, Rajiv was wearing a pink sari, holding a plate of pakoras, twirling happily. A sparkly tiara sat crooked on his head, and his moustache was still visible.
Meanwhile, Mei Ling called, panicked. Coco found Chen’s phone under the chicken wing and answered. “Herro? Herro? My husban’ missing! Someone say he come here. He small, fat, wear hat, face like… baozi, steam bun! That ass-ho not tell me where he go.”
Coco tried to calm her. “Uh… no wolly… he… uh… cheng arleady. He now a chickeen.” The ladyboy’s voice could be heard on the phone. “A Peking duck!” “What?!” Mei Ling screamed. “You cheng my husban’ into Peking duck?!” “No, no… not duck… chickeen.” “CHICKEEN?! You crasee man! How I bring chickeen go to airpot and go home?!
You cheng him back! I pay extra!” Her screaming got the audience laughing and shouting. “YES. CHANGE HIM BACK! CHANGE HIM BACK!” The chicken, startled, flapped toward the exit, pecking anyone who tried to catch him. He escaped through the back, dodging a motorbike and a fruit cart, flapping and clucking frantically and vanishing into the alley behind Soi 6.
The melee was reported to the police, and the place was searched. Everyone escaped except Coco and his ladyboy assistant, who just sat in the corner filing her nails. Coco tried in vain to tell the police that there would be a chicken and a Bollywood queen at large in Pattaya if he was not allowed to find them and change them back. He was ignored and taken into custody. Continuing to impress his cellmates with his tricks, the police station jail on Beach Road turned into a little zoo.
Mei Ling searched for hours before giving up and reporting the incident to the police. They didn’t believe her, called her “crasee Chinese woman,” and said the only chicken they saw was grilled and sold near the police station, and it came with sticky rice. She flew home alone.
Rajiv never found his friends but became a viral TikTok star, known as “PPP – Pakora Princess of Pattaya,” performing Bollywood dances on Walking Street with a backup crew of Indian ladyboys who were once a group of guys in Pattaya telling their wives they were in town for “business purchasing.”
In the meantime, someone spotted a chicken crossing the road. Nobody knows why.
