February 1, 2015

A Sultan’s life

Satiricus felt sorry for GrainJa. But the General’s problem was an old one ― faced by all the old Sultans who had harems. Lots of folks thought it was easy having a harem…in fact they thought it was so much fun for the Sultans!!
“Little did THEY know!!” snorted Satiricus. Can you imagine having to “visit at nights” dozens – sometimes hundreds!! ― of women?? There’s only so much that “steel drops” could help. Remember there was no Viagra or Cialis back in the day.
And the nagging!! Satiricus took his hat off to the couple of his buddies who’d ended up with two wives ― their religion allowed that. That they spent most of their time at the back street bar spoke volumes!!
And here was GrainJa, who’d been trying to juggle the union between his Pee-an-See and four partners in APANU for three years now, trying to take on a fifth!! “God bless the man!!” thought Satiricus fervently.
From the first set of partners, one had already cussed out poor GrainJa and bolted the Big Building. Shoorma of the Just Ice party complained as to how GrainJa hadn’t rushed to his defence when he was being cussed out by that big, bad Feral Lady of the PPCEE in the Big Building.
Why did he need GrainJa if he couldn’t defend his partners??. Even Pimps protect their girls when they were abused by Johns, no?
The Action Partner was the least trouble. They were from the Bush and they always seemed to be missing in action. No one, including GrainJa had heard a word from them for years. The problem was, of close, they could turn up anytime and demand their share of attention.
The WAPA were the worse of the bunch. All past 70, they were more crotchety and cantankerous than anything. Taking their age into consideration, GrainJa had promised a rendezvous once a month. But here was the one named Doubting Thomas, bitching and moaning that he wanted it more than once a month!
So Satiricus’s respect rose sky high when he heard GrainJa was courting the KFC fellas. How the heck was GrainJa going to satisfy that bunch? For them it wasn’t the nightly visits that WAPA was demanding. Their “thing” was to drink morning, noon, and night.
“But then if you want to become a Sultan,” thought Satiricus, “you gotta do what a Sultan’s gotta do!!”

Share Button

One for the road

Satricus was down in the dumps. He was no Wall Street “Master of the Universe”… But he’d gone and invested in some stocks of his favourite Beer Company – Bunks! Satiricus hadn’t done any deep analysis or anything. He didn’t have to.

Satiricus figured if he and his buddies’ weekly consumption of Bunks major product at the back street bar were any guide, it was one company that wasn’t gonna suffer no downturn!.

But more than that, in dear old Mudland, everything was political – including the beer you drank. And since Bunks had been founded by one of the die-hard leaders of the Opposition, Satiricus knew it was the patriotic duty of half of the folks in the country to keep guzzling the stuff.

So Satiricus was completely floored when he showed up at Bunks big shareholder’s meeting and realised that things were “brown” for the company.

Satiricus didn’t have to wait for Chairman Cliffie to complain that sales were down when he made his big speech. The moment Satiricus was given a lousy umbrella and three bottles of soft drink as his “complimentary shareholder gift” he knew that “thing na regulah”.

Every year, Satiricus would don his Sunday best, jump in the bus and head out to “the Home of Bunks”. It was not just his one shot at hobnobbing with the “big ones” like Cliffie. He was assured of bringing home some nice gift that he could give the missus for the house.

And more to the point, he’d get a nice bottle of that aged Premium Rum that he and the boys would knock down over a big plate of cutters. What the hell was he going to do with a lousy umbrella anyway??

And to add insult to injury, it was “Made in China”!! And then Chairman Cliffie confirmed the gloomy news: sales had plunged by hundreds of millions! But being the business tycoon he was Cliffie cut to the quick and explained the reason for the plummeting sales: “political uncertainty”!!!

And at that point Satiricus knew this thing went deeper that he’d figured. “Political uncertainty”… that was a thinly veiled reference to the trouble the Opposition had stirred up with their marching up and down the City.

Rather than marching, the Opposition supporters coulda been doing their patriotic duty and downing Bunks by the bucketload like Satiricus and his pals.

As Satiricus returned home morosely in his bus, he realised that the coming election had just been decided. No Bunks profits meant no campaign contribution from the biggest Opposition funder.

It was now all left to the Mook’s FUCOP now…and Satiricus knew that was gonna be a real FUCOP for the Pee-an-See!!

Share Button

One for the road

Satricus was down in the dumps. He was no Wall Street “Master of the Universe”… But he’d gone and invested in some stocks of his favourite Beer Company – Bunks! Satiricus hadn’t done any deep analysis or anything. He didn’t have to.

Satiricus figured if he and his buddies’ weekly consumption of Bunks major product at the back street bar were any guide, it was one company that wasn’t gonna suffer no downturn!.

But more than that, in dear old Mudland, everything was political – including the beer you drank. And since Bunks had been founded by one of the die-hard leaders of the Opposition, Satiricus knew it was the patriotic duty of half of the folks in the country to keep guzzling the stuff.

So Satiricus was completely floored when he showed up at Bunks big shareholder’s meeting and realised that things were “brown” for the company.

Satiricus didn’t have to wait for Chairman Cliffie to complain that sales were down when he made his big speech. The moment Satiricus was given a lousy umbrella and three bottles of soft drink as his “complimentary shareholder gift” he knew that “thing na regulah”.

Every year, Satiricus would don his Sunday best, jump in the bus and head out to “the Home of Bunks”. It was not just his one shot at hobnobbing with the “big ones” like Cliffie. He was assured of bringing home some nice gift that he could give the missus for the house.

And more to the point, he’d get a nice bottle of that aged Premium Rum that he and the boys would knock down over a big plate of cutters. What the hell was he going to do with a lousy umbrella anyway??

And to add insult to injury, it was “Made in China”!! And then Chairman Cliffie confirmed the gloomy news: sales had plunged by hundreds of millions! But being the business tycoon he was Cliffie cut to the quick and explained the reason for the plummeting sales: “political uncertainty”!!!

And at that point Satiricus knew this thing went deeper that he’d figured. “Political uncertainty”… that was a thinly veiled reference to the trouble the Opposition had stirred up with their marching up and down the City.

Rather than marching, the Opposition supporters coulda been doing their patriotic duty and downing Bunks by the bucketload like Satiricus and his pals.

As Satiricus returned home morosely in his bus, he realised that the coming election had just been decided. No Bunks profits meant no campaign contribution from the biggest Opposition funder.

It was now all left to the Mook’s FUCOP now…and Satiricus knew that was gonna be a real FUCOP for the Pee-an-See!!

Share Button

The pre-nup negotiations

Satiricus’ ears perked up. After years of hemming and hawing and fervent denials, Rum Jhaat of the KFC had come out and fessed up that he was open to tying the matrimonial knot with GrainJa and the Pee-an-See.

“Isn’t this sweet!!?” murmured Satiricus to himself. “History is repeating itself.” Satiricus had heard the story from his Daddy so many times.
Once upon a time, the Pee-an-See just couldn’t get rid of the PPCEE ― no matter how hard it tried. And by golly it tried! Its leader Burnt Ham was a fella who salivated when he just thought about power. So up came the good, ole Land of the Yankee Dollar Bill ― (YANKS), who created a new party called “United Farce”.

Not “The United Farce” …that’s another story. Just “United Farce”! And in no time at all, lo and behold (that’s how Satiricus’ Daddy talked), United Farce entered the elections and picked up four seats.

The money flowed like honey to United Farce from the YANKS. The United Farce hated the PPCEE because that party was for the great unwashed masses. “And you know money goes to where money is,” said Satiricus Daddy, “and the money people went to United Farce!”
So up came another election and by now the YANKS were supporting both the Pee-an-See and United Farce. So even though the Pee-an-See didn’t like United Farce ― Burnt Ham thought those rich folks looked down on him ― the YANKS told them they had to tie the knot. As the YANKS say, it was a “shotgun” wedding!!

And by golly, the married couple of the Pee-an-See and United Farce ousted the PPCEE. But like most shotgun weddings, the groom really didn’t like the bride, and as soon as the honeymoon was over, the Pee-an-See started to take advantage of United Farce. “And if you think domestic violence is bad now, you should hear about that story,” thought Satiricus.

So after a couple of years, United Farce had to get a divorce. “But the poor dear got nothing from the marriage…and pretty soon it just petered out,” concluded Satiricus’ Daddy.

So Satiricus was happy when he heard Rum Jhaat say, “Dis time na lang time!” (That was how Rum Jhaat spoke.) Even though the YANKS had funded his KFC party ― and a Big Dick Poll ― and he had gotten five seats ― he remembered the fate of United Farce when the YANKS told him he now had to hitch up with the Pee-an-See.

“Me gat fuh wear de pants,” said Satiricus. And using his lawyer’s “town” voice concluded, “And me want a pre-nuptial agreement.” Satiricus wondered whether Granger would allow himself to be neutered.

Share Button

Big brains

Satiricus always knew he was no brainiac. And in case he forgot, his friends were always there to remind him. So Satiricus, not surprisingly, is in awe of those fellas and felines (see???) who could whip off the answers to brain twisters like, “What’s the capital of Kazakstan? Or why’s Miley Cyrus such a bitch?”

This fella Rambo Gaspin was one of Satiricus’ heroes in the brains department. The fella had once been a big one. He had run the electricity company…that’s right.

“That he had run it into the ground is neither here nor there,” thought Satiricus. People were so picky!! What was the important thing was that Rambo Gaspin had an answer to every question – and then some.

“Take this prorogation business,” said Satiricus to his buddy Cappo the cane cutter. “Rambo says we must come out into the streets to make sure Prezzie ends it.” The rains just wouldn’t stop so that Satiricus was forced by his high sense of loyalty to keep Cappo’s company at the back street bar.

“Budday!! You bettah ask Rambo something,” retorted Cappo, “When dem bin a gat Parliament, ah wha dem Opposition people bin do??”

“Cappo, you always wrong-sided,” said Satiricus hotly. “I ain’t talking about that. Rambo talking about the principle of the thing.”

“Principle me arse!!” Shouted Cappo, who’d already downed ten Banks. He’d heard D’Aguiar’s profits were dropping.” Every time dey don’t sit in Parliament, is $1.7 million we saving in food alone!! Demn MPs can eat, boy!! When dey sit dey does eat!!”

“OK, Cappo” said Satiricus with a shrug, “I get your point. But all Rambo saying is that Prezzie can’t rule without Parliament. And that if the people march in the streets, Prezzie got to come to scratches.”

“Really?? How dey gon do da??” asked Cappo sceptically.

“Boy, Rambo already figure that out,” replied Satiricus. “He said that once Pressie stop the prorogation, two-thirds of the Parliament can vote his ass out! Article 106 Section 7, boy!! That man too smart!!”

“Really??” said Cappo once again. “And where de Opposition gon get two-thirds, when dey only gat only one seat more than Prezzie party??”

Satiricus scratched his head, and was silent.

“But why de Opposition need two-thirds if Pressie call back parliament?” concluded Cappo with a smirk. “Dey could just kick out Prezzie wid dem No-Confidence Motion!”

“Bai Cappo,” Satiricus said smiling, “Look like the cane didn’t soften you brain. Rambo should take some lessons from you!”

Share Button

The PANTY! fight

Satiricus was aghast!! He pulled in his breath sharply and placed his hand over his mouth. “Oh lawd!!” was all he could mutter. He was looking at the tape of Naga Man cussing out this newspaper for reporting about FUCOP and PANTY!

But instead of saying it “FOOK-OP” as the Mook did to rhyme with “jook up”, Naga Man actually used the “F” word!! Now Satiricus knew that Mook Lall would NEVER use THAT word ― and HE was the one who came up with FUCOP. What gave?

Satiricus knew “Funding a United Committee for Opposition Presidency” (FUCOP) was the vehicle Lall was using to funnel funds to the Opposition to throw out the PPP/C Government ― which he hated more than reading and writing.

Satiricus was sure when Lall coined the name, his chief-cook-and-bottle-washer Badam! Harass had to write it out for him. Mook Lall forming an “acronym”? The last time Harrass had mentioned “acronym” to the Mook, he’d thought Harrass was talking about acrobats!! The Mook formed the name and Harrass formed the acronym FUCOP.

But it was not only Naga Man using the “F” word so casually that made Satiricus gasp. Here it was that Naga Man was saying that the acronym his leader of the KFC Rum Jhaat had proposed for the new coalition he was forming with the Pee-an-See – PANTY! ― was “obscene”! Satiricus let out another gasp and covered his mouth.

Rum Jhaat was gonna go ballistic!! After all, he had spent so much time picking out a letter from the names of all the parties in the coalition ― Partnership, Alliance, National and joined it to “Trust”.

When the US had launched the KFC in 2005, Big Dick Morris had told him “Trust” was a “positive” word. That’s why so many investment banks used it in their names. And “Yes!” ― with an exclamation point? Why! Big Dick had assured him that once a voter said “Yes!” The vote was assured!

And now Naga Man thought this was obscene?? Satiricus knew what Rum Jhaat was gonna tell Naga Man the first time he saw him: “Haul yuh FUCOP ass! Naga Man!!!!”

Share Button

Rumble in the jungle

Satiricus felt sleepy. In his lap was his newspaper, turned to the page describing how Pee-an-See leader GrainJa was gonna go down to the mining town to settle things “once for all”.

Strange things were happening in that jungle-locked town. Like a scene out of Exorcist, doors were flung open without anyone being nearby. Even more strange, the next day, the door was ripped off and – without as much as a “lo and behold” – was miraculously replaced by a steel door.

Now Lendin was a Pee-an-See “stronghold”. Meaning the Pee-an-See had taken out “transport” over the folks of the town. Like the soldiers GrainJa used to command, the Lendiners were supposed to only ask “how high?” when GrainJa barked “jump!!!”

Everything was going fine until this pesky upstart named Salaman Gundy came along. Salaman started telling everybody that GrainJa was wearing no clothes!! He told people they didn’t have to even jump!

“Now Salaman Gundy gon see who is boss,” thought Satiricus, idly as he drifted off to sleep, in his hammock. And suddenly there was GrainJa riding across the Demerara Bridge into the good town of Lendin. Satiricus thought he was riding an ass…but on closer inspection, GrainJa’s trusty steed turned out to be RumJhaat. “He IS an ass!!” chuckled Satiricus in his dream.

GrainJa had on his old Purple Beret that Burnt Ham himself had given him. It fell below his ears now, because his head wasn’t as swollen as back in the day. That pesky Green Brigde made sure of that! He dismounted in front of a saloon that for some reason was named “Rum Shop”, and told his trusty steed RumJhaat to go inside and tell Salaman Gundy to come out and face the music.

GrainJa had slitted his eyes and with his hand poised stiffly over the Dagger at his waist, waited for Salaman Gundy. “Just because he was born on a Monday – with a caul – how dare he tell everybody that I have on no clothes??” Half an hour elapsed, but no Salaman was to be seen. His slitted eyes were running water copiously and his clenched fist was getting cramps.

GrainJa peered inside “Rum Shop”. There, his not-so-trusty steed RumJhaat just finishing up a “large” with Salaman!! Enraged, GrainJa stepped through the door. Only to have Salaman’s sidekick Kiss-Soon bop him over the head. She’d been lying in ambush.

GrainJa had forgotten that Salaman Gundy had started out KFC!!! It was a set up with RumJhaat!

Share Button

Secret talks

Satiricus was happier that a pig with his snout in the kitchen leftovers. He was happy that the Pee-an-See had this thing about putting every down in writing.

BurntHam insisted on “preserving” for history. How else would he’ve been able to know what went on behind the locked doors Rum Jhaat had insisted on before the marriage talks between the KFC and the Pee-an-See could take place?

He duly rewarded his wife’s niece for filching the transcript for the afternoon and settled down to get the lowdown.
GrainJa: Well, Mr Rum Jhaat, when can we begin talking?? The doors are closed like you demanded.

RumJhaat: (Pulling a “half” from his left back pocket) Leh we tek a drink fuh dat fuss. And you can call me “Jhaat”…everybody does call me dat.
GrainJa: It’s only 10:00h for Chrissake, Jhaat!! (Suddenly bursting out in alarm). Why you pouring rum on the floor??!

Rum Jhaat: Is we Chamaar custom fuh pour some rum to we dead Daadee before we drink. Dem Chatree doan pour. Deh does drink everything.
GrainJa: (Stiffly) Thank you, but MY people don’t drink before 12:00h.

RumJhaat: (Happily) Well, thank YOU!! (He finishes off the bottle with a couple of glugs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.)
GrainJa: Anyhow let’s start. Like I told you, we have some problem with the name you proposed for the coalition.

RumJhaat: Is wha wrang wid “Partnership Alliance for National Trust ― Yes! It gat a word from each awee name.
GrainJa: (Rolling his eyes) It’s not the name; it’s the Acronym ― PANTY! How I can tell my wife I working for PANTY!?

RumJhaat: Budday!! Dat is de name de man who giving we all de money fuh de election pick!!OK?? De man like PANTY!! He does wear one.
GrainJa: Really?? That brings me to the next topic….

Rum Jhaat: Next topic?? (Frantically interrupts!) Hold on!! (He whips out another bottle from his right back pocket and drinks it all in one practised action.) You did say you didn’t want any! Right??

GrainJa: (Fervently) That’s right!! We have to talk about the money man…. Mook Lall and his “Funding a United Committee for Opposition Presidency”.
Rum Jhaat: (Wiping some drops of rum from his mouth, with the back of his hand.) Yuh mean “FUCOP”??

GrainJa: (wincing) Yes…FUCOP.

RumJhaat: Wha wrang wid FUCOP?? Is FUCOP or is Mook Lall yuh gat a prablem wid??

GrainJa: It’s the Mook. That man think because he funding us he can treat me like used newspaper.

RumJhaat: Used newspaper?? Dat good…he does treat me like doormat. (looking at his watch in alarm) It’s 11 o’clock!! I gotta go. Me an NagaMan gat fuh tek a drink. Se yuh later.

Share Button

PANTY! politics

Satiricus was agog with excitement. “What a stroke of genius!!” thought Satiricus. “It had to be Rum Jhaat!! Who else would’ve come up with such an inspired name for the coalition he was working on with GrainJa – Partnership Alliance for National Trust – Yes!” Not only did it contain a word from all the names of the main folks at the table, look at the fantastic acronym it made – PANTY!!

Unlike most acronyms – it had a vowel which made pronunciation so easy!! It just rolled off your tongue….PAAAAANTY! And that exclamation point at the end was just beyond belief…how else can you say PANTY without an exclamation?? Satiricus didn’t just exclaim when he said, “PANTY”, he squeaked and salivated!!

Imagine how many voters would be attracted when instead of mumbling that they were an “APANU man” – they could now shout from the rooftops, “I am a PANTY! man!!!” Satiricus thought.

But what bothered Satiricus was that Rum Jhaat was such a modest fella he didn’t like to big up himself. So when the reporters asked him whether he was going to enter into PANTY with GrainJa now that they were being supported by the Mook and FUCOP, he always blushed and simpered, “No comment!”

“How’s PANTY going to get off the ground, if Rum Jhaat doesn’t get more aggressive!” Satiricus complained to the gang at the back street bar. “He got to sell PANTY!”

“What Rum Jhaat doing has nothing to do with modesty,” said Hari firmly. “He just telling people in Berbice one thing and people in town another thing and he scared he gon get ketch!”

“Budday!!!” said Cappo, slapping Satiricus on the back. “De prablem is FUCOP…you know?…de group de Mook mek fuh pass money to Rum Jhaat and GrainJa.”

“Is wha wrang wid FUCOP??” glared his cane-cutting partner Bungi. “De paper seh it jus mean “Funding a United Committee for Opposition Presidency”! “

“Bungi me friend,” said Cappo slowly, “How it gon sound when people seh FUCOP pushing money into PANTY?”

“Especially when the Mook pushing FUCOP!” laughed Suresh.

Share Button

FUCOP

Satiricus knew this New Year was going to be fun. It wasn’t that he was bending his elbows with the fellas at the back street bar. It wasn’t that he was psychic or anything. It was just that GrainJa’s reply about his receiving FUCOP money reminded Satiricus soooo much about that song Shaggy’d made popular back it in the days of Desmond Hoyte:
“It wasn’t me!!!”Satiricus burst into the refrain with gusto while Cappo and the rest of the crew supplied the chorus:
“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed/Creeping with the girl next door/Picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor.

But she caught me on the counter (It wasn’t me)
Saw me bangin’ on the sofa (It wasn’t me)]
I even had her in the shower (It wasn’t me)
She even caught me on camera (It wasn’t me)
She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn’t me)
Heard the words that I told her (It wasn’t me)
Heard the scream get louder (It wasn’t me)
She stayed until it was over”

They all took a drink for their efforts as other patrons in the bar gave them a round of applause. “With elections this year, man it’s gonna be real fun with GrainJa denying Mook funding him and RumJhaat with FUCOP money!!” chortled Satiricus to his buddies.
“Ai! But you gat fuh give credit to de Mook. When yuh collecting donation is important fuh come up wid wan good name fuh de group. FUCOP a wan master name!!!” exclaimed Cappo the canecutter. The crop was done and Cappo and Bungi were treating the fellas from their four-day payout.
“Funding a United Committee for Opposition Presidency!!” intoned Teacher Samad with a smirk. “FUCOP!! Can’t get a better name for something involving the Mook!!”
“But why GrainJa denying he getting money from Mook through FUCOP??” asked Suresh. “At least he coulda keep he mouth shut like RumJhaat!”
“Yuh right!” exclaimed Bungi. “He shoulda larn from how RumJhaat treat he – like he gat Kuh-Kuh-Beh when he try fuh RumJhaat jine up wid he!!”
“Budday!! GrainJa know if he admit he tek FUCOP money…is jail time fuh he when de GPA big man done with the Mook books!!” chuckled Cappo.
“But them businessmen the Mook blackmail to put money in FUCOP complaining all over the place,” pointed out Hari. “Is public knowledge.”
“Budday!! if is waan ting me know is “Time mo lang dan twine. When de election done, is de Mook gon get FUCOP!!”

Share Button