Debate at 10 paces

Satiricus was in seventh heaven. Here it was, his hero Nagga Man was getting a second chance to settle his scores with his erstwhile PPCEE comrades who had stymied him from acceding to the office for which he had been anointed by the Great Leader Jajjan. It is not that Nagga Man enjoyed settling scores. No, that was not his thing.

But a leader gotta do what a leader gotta do. And Nagga Man was a “leader”. Because of his faith, Nagga Man had turned all four of his cheeks to the proddings of his tormentors in the PPCEE. But as he confessed last week, they had abused his cheeks something terrible. But once again, it was “Budget Time” and this was when he would show them “who was maan”.

After the last Budget, some snot-nosed cub journalist had dared to write in the Chronic that Nagga Man had “blundered” as leader of government business in Parliament. Nagga Man had straightened out THAT twerp!! Satiricus was willing to wager this go-around, the Chronic wouldn’t be publishing any such nonsense! And it wasn’t only because Nagga Man had placed his water Boy, Shillo the Shill, to vet everything emanating from the Chronic!

Nagga Man had girded his loins to do battle with his arch enemy Jagdesh, who had vanquished him on every occasion up to now. Jagdesh hadn’t even been equipped with his knowledge of the dialectics by which Nagga Man could explain everything. Like why he had no line responsibility even though he’d brought his 11%. No…it was just because Jagdesh had been to the USSR and learnt how to drink Vodka and lick salt from his wrist in one motion. As a local born dialectician, Nagga Man could only perform that feat with Bush Rum. The other fellas in the party always went for “foreign”!

But when Nagga Man went to Parliament, he saw that Jagdesh hadn’t even bothered to show up. He’d sent one of his protÉgÉs, “I Maan Ali”. Nagga Man was livid. What did Jagdesh think he was? Curried Duck? But then I Maan Ali started talking about Nagga’s Government not having enough “FDI”.

“Effdee Eye?” wondered Nagga Man, scratching his thinning hair. “What de arse is that? Maybe he mean “Effen Cock Eye? Rum Jhaat got two of dem!”