Satiricus was a bit worried. He wasn’t getting clear signals from his leaders in the KFC on the party’s position in dealing with the big enchilada in the coalition – the Pee an’ See. Here it was that Nagga Man and Rum Jhaat were singing “Solidarity Forever”, but Trot Man was threatening to have the KFC fly solo in the local elections. As he swayed in his hammock reading the newspaper, Satiricus fell into a not-so-blissful slumber. And had this dream.
“A wha’ raas yuh mek trouble fa, Trottie?” whined Nagga Man. “Yuh na know w’en yuh haan in tigah mout’ yuh gat fuh rub ‘e head?”
“That’s the problem I have with you, Nagga Man,” said Trot Man sharply. “Half the time I don’t know what the arse you talking, with all yor parables.”
“What he mean, Trottie, is you will p*ss aff de Pee an’ See?” explained Rum Jhaat in his town voice. “They might tell you to haul yuh ass!”
“ME p*ss off Pee an’ See?!” exclaimed Trot Man, swirling his rum in his glass like his idol Burnt Ham. “I AM Pee an’ See!!”
“See, Rum Jhaat?!!” shrieked Nagga Man. “Same t’ing me tell yuh. Yuh cyaan trus’ dem red people. Dem a cut all-two side like raza-blade!”
“What’s he babbling about?” Trot Man asked Rum Jhaat.
“He says you are playing both sides – the Pee an’ See and KFC,” explained Rum Jhaat in his town voice.
“You mean I had to spell it out for you?” asked Trotman of Nagga Man, as he sipped his rum daintily. “What you think ‘Nassau’ is?”
“Me t’ink you and Grain Ja bin pan vacation,” said Nagga Man weakly, as he eyed Trot Man’s rum. “Wha’ da?”
“Explain ‘Nassau’ to him,” said Rum Jhaat before Trot Man could ask him anything.
“Na! Me na kay ‘bout da,” interjected Nagga Man. “Wha’ da Trot Man a drink?”
“Give him some rum to drink,” said Rum Jhaat to Trotman. “And you might as well give me some too.”
“Haul yuh ass!” said Trot Man. “Go pat Grain Ja head!”
