Satiricus didn’t know why he’d been so tense about the meeting between Presidents Dump and Dung. It wasn’t as if he would’ve been affected if they’d started to hurl nuclear missiles at each other. Guyana was out of the missile trajectories – and the North East Trade winds that lulled him to sleep at nights wouldn’t be bringing any fallout his way. But you never know, he worried, as he ambled over to the Back Street Bar.
“Whether the elephants fight or make love, it’s the grass that always gets crushed, you know,” he said to the fellas after he took his beer.
“That Dung fella looks more like a Panda Bear, if you ask me!” smiled Hari. “And with that hairdo, Dump could pass for a sheepdog!!”
“And dem Panda Bear gat laang, laang claw, you know!!” chuckled Bungi. “De sheep-daag na stan’ wan chance!!”
“OK, fellas, you know what I mean,” said Satiricus.
“Sato, ole fr’en, na tek worries!” said Cappo. “Dem two chap mek fuh mattie! Dem know wha’ dem a do!”
“Cappo rite. Abee dese sh’u’d jus’ watch!” said Bungi. “When two big bottle deh ah table, lil one nah gat business deh.”
“Dump and Dung are two drama queens, Sato,” observed Hari. “They’re going to milk this thing for years. They just love the attention!”
“I don’t think you fellas are taking these men seriously,” said Satiricus heatedly. “Dump is the president of the most powerful country in the world!!”
“Yes, but how me can tek wan president serious w’en ‘e ah eat two Big Mac, two Filet-O-Fish an’ wan milk shake fuh lunch ev’ry day?” grinned Cappo.
“And let’s not forget,” said Hari. “Dung’s favourite dish is Oshintang, dog-meat soup which supposedly gives him immunity and virility!”
“So you fellas don’t think this meeting was important in the very least?” asked Satiricus. “What about peace?”
“Sato, ole fr’en’ leh abee wait and see if anyt’ing guh happen,” said Bungi seriously. “Nah tek yuh mattie eye fuh see.”
They all clinked their beer bottles to that.
