Satiricus was exhausted. He needed a holiday to recover from the holidays! He figured he must be getting old. There was a time when he used to ring in the New Year till dayclean…and was none the worse for wear. But here he was dragging his tail to his backyard since he’d invited the fellas for a “cool down” on New Year’s Day. He fell into a hammock as he espied his friends arriving with their promised cooler of beers.
“Wha’ wrang wid you, Budday!?” said Cappo jovially, as he sat down and opened a beer bottle.
“I couldn’t sleep with all the fireworks,” said Satiricus irritably. “I thought the Police promised to crack down since they were banned.”
“Yuh sh’ud aks yuh leadah Rum Jhaat ‘bout da!” chortled Bungi.
“He was too busy testing the “no curfew” change in the bars!!” chuckled Hari.
“Jeez fellas, aren’t you going to ease up this new year?” asked Satiricus plaintively as he accepted a cold one from Cappo.
“W’en wan man mek ‘e-self wan doormat, yuh gat fuh walk pan am!” said Cappo seriously.
“And yuh leadah Nagga Man an’ Rum Jhaat mek dem-self real doormat!” chipped in Bungi without a pause.
“And why should only Grain Ja and the Pee-an’-See walk all over them?” asked Hari. “I have boots that are made for walking!!”
“OK! OK! I get the idea,” said Satiricus, as he tried to change the subject. “So what New Year resolutions have you guys made?”
“Me?” asked Bungi. “Me guh aks fuh wan tax haliday!”
“Like Cappo paying you too much, or what?” asked Hari. “I heard about you contractor fellas!”
“Naah…de man cheap fuh so!” smiled Bungi at his friend who’d given him a job when he was fired as a cane-cutter.
“But if Vexxan can get tax haliday, wha’ mek me and Bungi cyaan get?” chimed in Cappo. “Dem a mek mo dan ten Guyana!”
“I give up!” said Satiricus. “I know nothing will change this year!”
