Comb, comb, comb your hair.Your smiling face is a reflection beyond. Mother's voice echoes, intimidating, “Shin, please, stop disentangling your hair! It’s irritating. It’s bald.”

“Mom!” you reply, angry as you comb those tiny hair.

Wind, wind, it feels ominous. Your stomach's inside scrambles, your bowel loses control. Your face deforms salty.

Fast, fast—run outside the house. Go, and head to the toilet and open the door. Shhh... don't speak, don't be shocked, don't yell; if that curling thing will awake, it will bite your life.

Meanwhile...

Way back to the kitchen— "Mom. There's a snake near the faucet's pipe," you say. You're scared. Your buttocks sway with bowel's distortion.

Whooshing, as she rakes and rakes the vegetables inside the frying fan. Whoooosh, whoooshing... "Where's your father?"

"He isn't around."

"Ask your uncle then."

"Hmmp!"

Another meanwhile...

"(Whine) Uncle, uncle, there's a snake near the faucet in the toilet."

"The color?"

"Has green skin, but red eyes."

"Jeez, ignore it. It won't bite."

Nooo! You cry and cry, and cry.

Be brave. Be brave. Just cry, hum as you cry.

Set above the toilet's bowl.

See? It isn't awake.

Please, don't hesitate. Do it, your body must do.

Oh, it moves. It sways. It awakes. You cry with salty smile. Oh, its head moves. It crawls. It heads to the faucet.

Run! You run!

"(Whine) uncle, uncle, the snake is moving. I can't poo!"

"Jeez, are you not a man? If its tail isn't red, you're safe."

Smile, and cry. Bitterly smile.

Open the door, oh the snake is behind the bowl. Endure, endure it. Become a man. Slowly sit back. Stop! It moves. Oh, it settles. Slowly, slowly set back. Now do, what your body must do... Oh, it moves... oh, it settles. Oh, it moves.. oh, it settles.

Its eyes, its glistering red eyes, Its eyes, its glistering-!

Oh, its tail is red. Flush the bowl, run!

Whine and whine, "Uncle, uncle, (whine), its tail is red."

Finally,

Brave as he is. Manly as he is. He arms with a bolo knife. He grabs the snake's neck and he smashes it head. He smashes and smashes, until it's dead.

He throws it to the forest. "I feel sorry with the snake, it didn't do bad thing," your uncle has said. You're guilty. "Kid, if it'll rain; that snake will come alive and take revenge." You're afraid, you're paling. "Just kidding."

"Maaa!" You whine and whine. Your uncle now is helpless.