Satiricus was back at the Back Street Bar, which was all abuzz with the impassioned discussions on the American elections. As he sauntered towards to his usual spot at the rear, he spied Bungi and Hari already ensconced with beers in hand.
“Hey fellas,” Satiricus said effusively. “How come y’all so early?”
“Yuh know abee grine aff, right Sato?” asked Bungi, as he signalled for a beer for Satiricus. “Dem na gat mo’ cane in de backdam.”
“Yeah… yeah… I know,” said Satiricus with a grin. “I don’t hear the factory whistle any more. Thank God… I can now get some sleep in the morning.”
“So Sato,” began Hari as he took a long pull at his beer, “Now that Trump is in, you think he’ll keep his promise to ‘drain the swamp’ in Washington?”
“Drain de swamp?” interjected Bungi with a puzzled look. “When abee drain dem field dat dem swamp in de backdam, abee does ketch plenty fish!”
“It’s just an American expression, Bungi,” Hari explained. “In Florida, they used to drain swamps to kill mosquito that cause malaria.”
“So you ‘drain the swamp’ to get rid of parasites,” grinned Satiricus. “And this is what Trump promised to do to all the parasites in Washington.”
“The problem with Trump,” said Hari “is he sees all immigrants as parasites that should be deported when the swamp is drained.”
“But wha mek ayou only a talk ‘bout ‘Merica?” said Bungi. “Me t’ink dem shoulda drain de swamp in Jarge-tong laang now!”
“So who are some of the local parasites you’d like to be gone?” enquired Satiricus, as he signalled for another beer.
“All twenty-seven a dem Ministah!” announced Bungi.
“Man you’re not messin’ around!” said Hari. “What did they do?”
“Da de prablem,” announced Bungi firmly. “Dem na do waan blasted t’ing and dem suck abee blood wid dem 50 per cent raise!”
“Why Bungi!” exclaimed Satiricus. “That is the definition of parasite!”
“Let’s drink to that!” Said Hari.
Bottles were clinked all around.
