The morning crowd at Old Uncle’s kopitiam was enjoying its usual rhythm. Cups clinked. Toast crackled. Ali, Ah Hock and Muniandy were halfway through discussing football when the peace was shattered.
A group of teenagers burst into the kopitiam.
The leader swaggered to the counter.
"Yo, Unc! One bussin' kopi O, extra rizz, one sigma kaya toast, no cap. Make it GOAT, don't give me no NPC breakfast, fr fr."
Another shouted from behind.
"And one Skibidi Milo with Ohio eggs! Womp womp if slow!"
The third added,
"Aura plus one if got crispy half-boiled eggs."
The kopitiam fell silent.
Old Uncle blinked.
"...Excuse me?"
The teenagers repeated it, even faster.
"Bro, low-key, high-key, negative aura, Skibidi, Ohio, sigma breakfast, no cap!"
Old Uncle slowly looked up.
"Are you boys... ordering breakfast..."
"...or summoning the devil?"
The entire kopitiam burst into laughter.
Ah Hock adjusted his glasses.
"They don't sound human."
He listened carefully.
"No... they sound exactly like R2-D2 from Star Wars."
He began beeping.
"Bee-boo-beep... Skibidi... beep... Ohio..."
The teenagers laughed.
Ali suddenly slapped the table.
"I knew this day would come!"
He proudly dug into his backpack.
"Luckily I came prepared."
He triumphantly held up a shiny golden gadget.
"My Super Duper Star Wars C-3PO Universal Translator! Bought from Temu. Seventy percent discount. Free shipping."
Ah Hock frowned.
"From Temu?"
Ali nodded proudly.
"If it can translate Wookiee, it can translate teenagers."
He switched it on.
The machine lit up.
A polite metallic British voice filled the kopitiam.
"Oh dear... I believe I can assist."
The teenagers stared.
One repeated his order.
"Yo, unc. Bussin' kopi. Sigma kaya. No cap."
The translator responded elegantly.
"Translation:
Good morning, respected proprietor.
Kindly prepare one excellent cup of coffee and one serving of kaya toast.
I sincerely hope the quality is exceptional."
The kopitiam erupted.
Another teenager shouted,
"Bro, that toast got negative aura."
The translator replied,
"This gentleman respectfully feels the toast could benefit from further improvement."
Even Old Uncle laughed.
"I like this translator."
Soon everyone gathered around the magical translator.
The teenagers became teachers.
"Okay, uncles. TikTok Language 101, which lies at the border of Gen Alpha and Gen Z language "
One pointed at Ali.
"GOAT."
Ali puffed out his chest.
"So... I'm handsome?"
"Better."
"Greatest Of All Time."
Ali immediately stood up.
"I've been telling people this for forty years."
Everyone groaned.
Next lesson.
"Sigma."
Ah Hock asked,
"Someone who minds his own business?"
The youngsters nodded.
"Correct."
Ah Hock smiled proudly.
"I've been sigma since Standard Five."
Muniandy raised his hand.
"What about Ohio?"
The teenagers laughed.
"It means something weird, cursed or completely ridiculous."
Ali pointed at Ah Hock.
"Your haircut is Ohio."
Ah Hock replied,
"Your dancing is Ohio."
Everyone applauded.
Next came...
"Skibidi."
The uncles waited.
The teenagers looked at each other.
"Honestly..."
"We're not entirely sure either."
Even the C-3PO translator hesitated.
"My programming... has failed me."
The entire kopitiam exploded with laughter.
The lessons continued.
"No cap."
"No lying."
"Bet."
"Agreed."
"NPC."
"Someone with no personality."
"Rizz."
"Charm."
"Aura."
"Coolness."
"Womp womp."
"Tough luck."
Within minutes, the old friends were using every word.
Ali marched around.
"I'm GOAT, no cap!"
Ah Hock replied,
"Negative aura, bro."
Muniandy sighed.
"Womp womp."
The youngsters clapped.
"You're learning!"
Ah Hock then challenged the teenagers.
"If this language is so powerful..."
"Translate Shakespeare."
The teenagers accepted.
Ali cleared his throat dramatically.
"To be... or not to be..."
The youngsters thought.
Then together they declared...
"Exist or rage quit? No cap."
Everyone applauded.
Ah Hock continued.
"All the world's a stage."
Translation:
"Earth is one giant livestream."
Muniandy tried another.
"What's in a name?"
The teenagers answered.
"Username only, bro."
Ali added,
"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears."
They instantly replied,
"Yo chat, everyone listen up!"
Now it was Old Uncle's turn.
"Can Malaysianize or not?"
The youngsters grinned.
"Easy."
"That's GOAT, lah."
"Don't be Ohio, meh."
"Bro got maximum rizz, lah."
"Skibidi, dei!"
"No cap, macha."
"Womp womp, lah."
Soon the entire kopitiam sounded bilingual...
Half Shakespeare.
Half TikTok.
Half Malaysian.
Nobody bothered pointing out that made three halves.
The youngsters then taught everyone the latest viral TikTok dance.
Ali's knees protested immediately.
Ah Hock claimed he was "saving his aura."
Muniandy insisted he needed a warm-up.
Five minutes later...
All three were dancing anyway.
Even Old Uncle accidentally joined in while carrying kopi.
The whole kopitiam cheered.
One teenager finally shouted,
"Uncles! Let's settle this properly!"
"Intergenerational Dance-Off!"
Ali pointed dramatically.
Old Uncle announced the time and date for this dance-off. He told participants to wear clothing from that era.
While giving more details of the intergenerational dance-off, Muniandy quietly slipped away.
"I've got something important to do."
Ali winked.
"Going home already?"
Muniandy smiled proudly.
"Yes."
"I've just learned the language of the future."
With a mischievous grin, he headed home to his wife Letchumi...
Completely unaware that his brand-new TikTok vocabulary was about to be put to the ultimate test.
SKIBIDI, SAMBAR & SIX SEVEN
Later, at the humble abode of Mr. & Mrs. Muniandy
The aroma of murungakkai (moringa, drumsticks ) sambar filled the kitchen as Letchumi stood over the stove, stirring the bubbling pot with one hand while expertly frying crispy papadums with the other.
Without making a sound, Muniandy tiptoed into the kitchen wearing his cheekiest grin. He slipped his arms gently around Letchumi's waist.
She didn't even turn around.
"Eh! Don't kacau me. I'm cooking!"
Ignoring the warning, Muniandy began singing dramatically in his best TikTok voice.
"Hello, girl...
Letchumi sighed.
"...Hi."
"What's your name?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Letchumi lah. Who else?"
"What's your number?"
She frowned.
"My number?"
"Yes..."
Thinking he meant 4D lottery numbers, she paused for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the bubbling sambar.
"Hmmm..."
Muniandy leaned in eagerly.
"Well?"
She shrugged.
"Six... seven."
Muniandy's eyes widened.
"Stop... Six-seven?"
"Yeah."
He burst into a mischievous grin.
"Wah... 67 ah? Not bad!"
Letchumi finally turned around.
"What 'not bad'?"
"You know... sixty-seven..."
He wiggled his eyebrows.
For a second, she stared blankly.
Then it dawned on her.
"You dirty old man! I was talking about 4D numbers!"
Muniandy laughed and bolted for the kitchen door.
Letchumi grabbed the nearest weapon she could find—
A long murungakkai.
"Come back here!"
WHACK!
The drumstick landed squarely across his backside.
"Aiyo!"
WHACK!
"You and your TikTok nonsense!"
WHACK!
Muniandy zig-zagged around the kitchen table as Letchumi chased him, waving the murungakkai like a police baton.
The papadums continued puffing happily in the pan.
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