Something about the red slashes makes these already scary looking durian at a stall close to Central Market even more terrifying (think device in medieval warfare). However, once you get past the outer barbs of the almighty durian, you meet its cool, creamy fibers. Sounds refreshing? Well, virgin palettes take caution, for you may detect a foul odor. Some call it a stench, some call it a fragrance. Each term is connotative of the partaker’s bias. Like life in any crowded, bustling city, the durian is suffocatingly exhilarating.