Satiricus and his friends were just finishing up discussing the Mash goings-on at the Back Street Bar. The forest of beer bottles on their table attested to the fact that it had been a well lubricated discussion. Apart from the confusion at the Wood Ants Stadium at Durban Park, they were arguing as to why the flag-raising at Corriverton was stopped. Satiricus was very miffed, and let the fellas know it.
“Listen fellas, I don’t care what you say,” began Satiricus aggressively. “They were dissing my leader Rum Jhaat.”
“But Sato, ah de people dem t’ing!” protested Cappo. “Dem can invite who dem want!”
“Yeah! Wha mek ayuh gi’e dem dem own flag and t’ing,” interjected Bungi, “if ayuh wan’ fuh tell dem wha’ fuh do?”
“My leader Rum Jhaat is a Vice President of the ENTIRE country!” said Satiricus. “They have to show him respect!”
“Sato, old friend,” said Hari. “Respect can’t be demanded, you know; it has to be earned.”
“An’ how dem Berbician can respect wan maan who a dead meat?” chuckled Cappo, as Satiricus glared at him.
“But yuh know wh’ me t’ink?” said Bungi. “Dem Berbician sh’u’d stap de rest a de country fuh raise flag!”
“How the hell can they do that?” demanded Satiricus.
“Well, dem seh Cuffy free abee fuh get Republic,” said Bungi with a smile. “An’ Cuffy bin a wan Berbician!! Dem sh’u’d tek back Cuffy home!!”
“But really, Sato,” said Hari. “Rum Jhaat should be happy they didn’t let him speak.”
“Why?” asked Satiricus tersely.
“Afta wha ‘e do dem Skeldon cane-cutta, de ganda egg woulda drown’d am!” grinned Cappo.
“But tell me, Sato,” said Hari. “Shouldn’t Rum Jhaat, who’s in charge of the police, be ashamed to beg a Pee an’ See Minister to instruct the Police?”
“How you know he did that?” asked Satiricus.
“Because if no one listened to him to keep his best Crime Chief, why would Police listen to him?” asked Hari.
“’E a wan Chrismuss blow-blow!” chortled Bungi.
