Satiricus was very happy. There was always a silver lining behind every dark cloud, he thought with satisfaction. After the blaze, the Government was going to rebuild the Camp Street jail, enlarge the Mazaruni Penal Colony and reinforce the Lusignan Prison. There were now going to be more than enough space to put away the bad guys and he and his pals at the Back Street Bar didn’t have to worry about being overrun by bandits.
“Budday! Rememba how dem bandit bin shoot up dem big man a Nakoo Bar?” asked Bungi, as they settled into their weekend tryst with his first cold brew.
“Well, I hope this set of escapees don’t find a friendly village to hang out in,” said Hari dolefully.
“What you mean, “hang out in”? demanded Satiricus. “Those freedom fighters from 2002, had held that poor village Buxom hostage, you know.”
“Na, me nah know,” replied Bungi sharply. “Wha’ me know, de Police kill all a dem and abee get peace.”
“So you think the Police should kill these four escapees?” asked Satiricus. “And not capture them to put into the new jail?”
“Da wha’ me t’ink!” said Bungi firmly. “Wha’ dem gat fuh spend all da money fuh buil jail? Dem can open back abee suga fact’ry!”
“Are you serious?” asked Hari. “So what should we do when people are convicted of crimes?”
“Abee gat plenty jungle,” said Bungi. “Sen’ dem deh fuh clear de bush!”
“But that would be punishing them!” protested Satiricus, as Hari nodded in agreement.
“Suh wha’ abee a sen’ dem a jail fa?” Bungi wanted to know. “Just locking them up is the punishment,” said Hari virtuously.
“Suh abee guh feed dem t’ree times a day, gie dem clothes and shelta,” said Bungi indignantly, “and yuh call da, punishment?”
“What would you do?” asked Satiricus.
“Well, if yuh nah wan’ fuh sen’ dem fuh clear jungle,” said Bungi, “Den leh abee chap dem han’ aff, or hang dem, like Saudi!”
