Satiricus didn’t mind the rain. While he remembered his old primary school rhyme on the hurricane season claimed “June – too soon”, he wasn’t surprised Guyana was getting a drenching from Bret. The fellas had a fall-back plan which never failed them – to retire into the maws of the Back Street Bar. So that’s where they were, recovering from their enforced Father’s Day sabbatical!
“Suh wha’ guh aan wid yuh guv’ment, Sato?” Bungi said as he leaned over the table to he heard over the rain on the roof.
“What you mean?” replied Satiricus with feigned innocence.
“Na play schupid wid me, bai,” Bungi retorted. “Yuh know damn well ah talkin’ ’bout how dem chrow out Roop Na Rain!”
“Not his problem, Bungi!” butted in Hari, with a wide smile. “Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat, still in place!”
“That’s right, old friend,” Satiricus said. “My leaders in the KFC are still VP’s you know!”
“Dem a “VP” a’rite – Very Pathetic!!” sniggered Bungi. At the surprised looks from his friends, he added with a blush, “Me l’arn da fram me da’ta!”
“I’m impressed!” confessed Hari.
“What you mean by that?” asked Satiricus – with some heat, this time.
“Well, at leas’ de WAPA fella dem mek some naise w’en Prezzie put de lash pan Roop Na Rain,” answered Bungi. “Wha’ Nagga Man an’ Rum Jhaat do w’en Prezzie pull out all dem teet’?”
“Bungi, that’s not fair!” complained Satiricus. “My leaders are still holding the jobs they were promised!”
“Fram wah me a see” replied Bungi. “Dem GET Larwah and dem a still hol’ Larwah!!”
“Don’t answer that, Sato,” said Hari placatingly. “But why don’t you suggest to Nagga man and Rum Jhaat to also meet Prezzie?”
“Yeah!” chortled Bungi. “Den abee guh see who gat mo’ seed dan baigan!”
