Satiricus was going to be in the hot seat. He knew the fellas would’ve read the interview in the paper for which he laboured – and would give him stick for the interview his Leader Rum Jhaat had given. But he wasn’t going to miss his opportunity to unwind, so here he was sidling into the Back Street Bar to face the music. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Hey Sato!!” Bungi called out before he even had a chance to sit down. “Wha’ yuh leadah gat ‘gainst yuh pay-pah?!”
“Well, for one, he’s not the KFC leader anymore,” Satiricus pointed out. “He was voted out.”
“But he IS your leader, isn’t he?” asked Hari. “What did your paper do to Rum Jhaat for him to tell your reporter, “I don’t speak to Gtimes. Y’all are asses”?”
“Da include you, Sato!!” gloated Bungi. “Asses!!”
“All right, let me tell you straight,” said Satiricus. “He didn’t like how my paper covered his crime-fighting strategy.”
“Really?” asked Hari. “And what was that strategy, pray tell?”
“OK, guys, quit fooling around,” said Satiricus. “You sound just like my editor.”
“Na…abee serious,” assured Bungi. “Wha’ ‘e strategy fuh fight crime?”
“Well, his curfew, of course,” said Satiricus. “Haven’t you noticed since he imposed the 2 am curfew crime has gone down?’’
“I thought that was due to Operation Greenheart!” smiled Hari. “Or Wallaba!! But that’s no reason to call you guys “asses”.”
“Yuh repo’tah shoulda tell Rum Jhaat, ‘e tek waan fuh know waan’!!” suggested Bungi with a wide grin.
“But the man learning to take criticisms, you know,” suggested Satiricus.
“Really?” asked Hari with his eyebrows touching his hairline.
“Yeah,” nodded Satiricus. “In the past, he would’ve shouted at our reporter: ‘Haul yuh ass’!”
