A 40-year-old Tampines man is currently throwing a fucking tantrum because a local bakery refused to touch his crusty, fecal-matter-stained five-dollar note.

The bakery management clarified that physical currency is essentially a biohazard cocktail of E. coli and public transport sweat, and their staff are far too elite to handle your filthy legal tender.

"We don't want to touch the same paper that’s been marinating in a sweaty uncle’s back pocket," said the manager while dousing the counter in industrial-grade bleach.

Waiting for a middle-aged Sinkie to dig through his pockets for twenty cents is now legally classified as a form of psychological torture.

The man has since pledged to pay only in barter, offering three loose cigarettes for a bun.