THE ANCIENT AND FEARSOME TOMB OF THE KARACHI GUTTER KINGS...

So my road has undergone a new transformation. It has gone from rememnants-of-gigantic-earthworm-passing to Basra-on-a-bad-day. The Tora Bora hills have better roads than this.

The current theory is that maybe the Area Nazim is actually looking for something. Treasure buried centuries ago that he has obtained a tattered map for. That's why they are digging up all the roads. The seek the tomb of an ancient king who once resided in the area. The only proof of his buried treasure were cryptic words in ancient Sumerian tattoed on the shaft of a sailors penis. He traded the member in at a sea-front bar in exchange for a Pakola and a packet of chilli-chips. It found its way into the hands of an intrepid and attractive young woman who works in the Archives section of the Karachi Municipal Corporation. Finding herself in accidental possesion of a whithered penis with cryptic writing she became the target for a secret society of Memon cultists who started to chase her down dimly lit alleyways and echoing car-parks, until she found sanctuary in the hairy yet muscular arms of a traffic policeman who has been tracking the cultists for years. He goes to his SHO with the evidence who dismisses him because of wild and uncontrollable penchant of property-damage and off-the-wall policing tactics. But dammit HE GETS THINGS DONE! Together the two of them unravelled the secret of the hidden tomb by giving the benefit-of-the-doubt to a wrinkle on the length of the fast decaying penis, and finding a 3D compass under the skin that is only visible when held under a black light on the night of the first full moon of the summer solstice. The Memon-cultists in the meantime, enlist the aid of their most powerful member: The hunchback area-nazim whose face is always hidden because of his tendency to stand in shadows. He is recognizable only by his penchant for smoking cigarettes that have particularly fiery glowing tips.

Our bold hero and heroine find themselves in the underground kingdom of the ancient civilization of midget-people who ruled the planet a millennia ago. Dodging fantastically complex traps that require gears and cogs to function and have miraculously avoided decay over the centuries, the two make their way to a cavern deep under the bowels of Karachi. There, the hot archivist who conducts all her adventuring in a pair of fetching tight pants, discovers herself to be the last living descendant of Forces of Light and suddenly manages to translate the fading words on the Penis-of-Truth. They discover the tomb just minutes ahead of the Memon cultists who have used their devious occult powers of in-breeding to create a mutant creature that is half-man and half-cousin. Inside the tomb they find all the treasures of the world, but rather than let the villains have it, our bold traffic policeman unleashes the power of Light lying dormant in the hot archivist by kissing her in a way the puberty-ridden audiences have been clamoring for. The temple is destroyed and the Memon-cultists and their mutant monster and crushed under rubble. But not before a single stray bullet fired by the city Nazim ricochets off a pebble and strikes the hero in the chest. He falls to the ground, laying there as the archivist bends over him weeping, her cleavage completely destroying any emotional poignancy the scene might have had. She moves his hand away from his chest to discover...no blood! Just then blinks, gaps and raises his head. Inside his breast pocket, was the tattooed penis, now smashed beyond recognition by the force of the bullet it stopped. They kiss passionately and then make the journey back up to the surface, a journey that on the way down took hours of dodging near-fatal traps but now will be covered in mere minutes.

Or at least that's what I think is causing the digging on my road. Might just be the ruptured sewage pipe. But really, how plausible is that?