Satiricus was very despondent. Once again he was going to have to face the music at the Back Street Bar, and the music wasn’t Dhakka Dalay!! But as he’d done before when placed in similar circumstance, he decided that offence was the best form of defence.
“Can you believe how some people ungrateful?!” Satiricus exploded as soon as he sat down and reached for his beer.
“Tek am easy, Sato,” advised Cappo, who was working on his third beer. “A wha’ yuh a taa’k abou, maan?”
“I’m talking about how some politicians forget quickly about favours people do for them,” Satiricus responded. “That’s real low!”
“Yuh a taa’k parable-parable or wha’?” asked Bungi. “Who fuget wha’ favah?”
“Don’t you guys remember when my KFC party needed a new headquarters, the fella who built it for them?” Satiricus asked. Everyone nodded.
“Well imagine they just charged the man for selling unregistered drugs to the Big Hospital!” said Satiricus in rising tones.
“An’ wha’ Rum Jhaat do?” asked Cappo, in surprise. “’E na even tu’n up fuh represent de man?”
“It’s not Rum Jhaat’s fault,” said Hari. “He can’t even represent himself!”
“But na only Rum Jhaat,” pointed out Bungi, with a smile. “When dem bin open de buildin’, na Tratman seh de maan mek wan “political investment”?”
“I can see you’re surprised, Sato ole friend,” said Hari. “But this was long in coming!”
“What you mean?” demanded Satiricus aggressively.
“Well, not only last year the same chap bring in real drugs, like cocaine, from some other company’s licence?” asked Hari, as Cappo and Bungi perked up their ears. “And he was charged?!”
“Yes,” conceded Satiricus.
“That was the writing on the wall, Sato,” said Hari.
“An’ wha’ de writin’ bin seh, Hari?” asked Bungi.
“That the KFC is dead meat to the Pee an’ See!” chuckled Hari, who was in a real garrulous mood. “They don’t have to take care of KFC financiers!!”
“Back to back, belly to belly; KFC doan give a damn – deh dun dead already!!’ cackled Cappo!!
