Satiricus and the fellas were exhausted. They were literally sprawled at the back of the Back Street Bar guzzling their beer between long breaths taken very carefully to make sure they didn’t choke. It was late in the afternoon of Easter Monday and they had done their duty by their families to get their kites up, up and away!! No beers had been allowed — only Kool-Aid to wash down the baskets of “aloo ball”, boiled channa and cheese sandwiches the wives had served up.
“Budday! Me t’ink me get too ole fuh dis kite flyin’,” groaned Bungi.
“Well, I told you the tail on your son’s kite was too heavy, but you didn’t want to listen!” pointed out Satiricus.
“So, what’s your excuse, Sato?” asked Hari slyly. “Your daughter’s kite was plunging like a Kamikaze Pilot on steroids!!”
“That was the plan,” smiled Satiricus as he took a swig. “You see many kites she brought down?”
“Yes…including my son’s,” said Hari sourly. “It’s a good thing he didn’t catch her’s with his razor-blade tail!!”
“OK…OK…Sato. Na ansa da,” interrupted Bungi. “Tell abee wha’ happen to yuh leada Nagga Man Thursday night.”
“What you talking about?” asked Satiricus truculently.
“How come Nagga Man na get fuh talk ‘bout de SORO Bill?” Bungi wanted to know.
“He didn’t want to,” answered Satiricus rather sharply.
“I thought Trot Man cut off the debate,” observed Hari mildly. “Wasn’t that Nagga Man’s job?”
“That wasn’t it,” insisted Satiricus. “Nagga Man doesn’t give much importance to being the Prime Moocher.”
“Really?” asked Bungi sceptically. “Suh how come ‘e always wan’ fuh talk afta Jagdesh?”
“Oh!!” exclaimed Hari. “Is that why Nagga Man didn’t mind being cut off? Because Jagdesh wasn’t in the Assembly?”
“Nah!” insisted Satiricus. “Wasn’t that.”
“So what was it?” persisted Hari. “This is Easter Monday, you know!”
“He and Rum Jhaat wanted to get in as many free drinks in the MP Dining Room as they could,” confessed Satiricus.
