Satiricus was very upset. And when he was upset, he was mumbling something fierce under his breath. His buddies at the Back Street Bar were used to his idiosyncrasies. As he polished off his second beer, Hari looked over to him and asked, ” What’s bugging you this time, Sato?”
“I’m really teed off, Hari,” Satiricus burst out with a grimace. “I’ve always believed a country should be judged by how well they treat old people.”
“An’ which old people a get bad treatment now?” asked Bungi, in puzzlement. “De ole beggar man, Joey? Da man gat mo’ money dan Gaad! Na worry wha’ ‘e a tell people.”
“I’m not talking about Joey,” said Satiricus in an annoyed tone. “Didn’t you fellas read about how everybody and their uncle are dumping on old Green Ham just because the Government want to give him a pension?”
“You’re worried about Green Ham?!” Hari was almost apoplectic. “You forget that was the man who beat your father to a pulp when he was striking in front of Guyana Stores?”
“An’ ‘e mek Rad Knee na get wuk a’ UG?!” demanded Bungi. “If da na bin happen, de man neva woulda get murdah!”
“My friends,” quoted Satiricus sententiously, “the evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.”
“So tell abee wha’ good Green Ham do,” challenged Bungi. Hari was still struggling to find his voice.
“The man was a very religious person,” said Satiricus. “Didn’t you hear him preaching that we needed a moral revival in Guyana?”
“Yeah, I heard his preaching that, all right,” Hari finally blurted out. “But I always felt he was just an old hypocrite.”
“Me still rememba how me Daady use to fri’ken abee w’en abee lil,” said Bungi. “Green guh get yuh, if yuh na do yuh wuk!”
“But that’s the problem with you fellas,” said Satiricus. “You don’t realise a man who’s done the most horrible things, is the most qualified to tell you what’s bad for you.”
“Well then, Green Ham is VERY qualified,” said Hari. “I wonder what pension Hitler would get if he came back.”
“Na mo’ dan Green Ham,” concluded Bungi.
