The seat of
democracy was turned into the seat of shrill last week when the
opposing types performed the funeral dance in black complete with a
miniature coffin. But the planning had not been upto date, at least
when it came to Amunu-village.
The poor soul, despite professing to be in the know of all things
opposition, walked into the house white as a dove while the
rest of the gang were doing the funeral in black. Quite conspicuous,
Amunu was looking for the cover of black. And who should come to the
rescue but Gajan P. Junior P had removed his black coat as he did not
want to play any part in the funeral game. Junior’s portly size was
more than two sizes larger for Amunu-village, but our man at last
joined the figurative pyre in an over hanging coat. Hoo! Hoo!
Ra-kneel is on his
way to Old Blighty and not empty handed mind you. He is taking
specially made shirts of a maximus type for Blare. The special order
is collar size 16 1/2 with extra size sleeves to accommodate the
longer than usual arms. Next time Blare is in full flair, thank our
boy Ra-kneel. Hmmm...
The cops under
the hammer with the rising crime rate should turn to the best
detective in town, the one in a saree. Who else but ol’ Satellite.
When she heard of the recovery of a mobile at the murder scene of the
blue provincial councillor, the good lady quipped, “Bring it to me
and I will solve the crime in 10 minutes.” Give it to her man, for
God sake, give it to her.
thinks that 4.5 billion greenbacks are peanuts. When she met Tee-luck
the defensive one she had a tete a tete with him and told him
that the performance in Tokyo was nothing much and that she had done
The defensive one, however, did not oppose the assertion but kept his
trap shut. Knowing his soft spot for Satellite, there is no wonder
why. For, when Chandiya of SriLankan fame told Tee-luck that Satellite
was a lady with a warm heart, the defensive one dropped all defenses
and said that he wouldn’t mind a chance to feel the warmth. Gotcha
it off the chest
And it was that
heat that the Green cupboard was debating last week. Hack-eem was all
goo goo, ga ga about the Tokyo performance and all praise about Ra-kneel’s
professional approach. Having worked with Satellite, he added, he knew
which was best. If it was Satellite according to Hack-eem, she would
have played the cards close to her chest and bungled the process as
Ass Bee and the Dentist with the Big Mouth would know, Hack said.
“What would they know, about the chest or about the process?” queried
Ty-ron, the foreign one, in all innocence. Cheeky aren’t we!
The young turks
in the Green camp too have their little tiffs. Recently during a
meeting of the Greens from the five villages, Ravi, the silver screen
hero was all in a twist that Ole-hitter had walked into his turf and
created trouble at a bus depot. It was so bad that the depot chaps
were threatening to go on strike. “Hey. I go where I want, this is
my kingdom,” retorted the accused which left the screen hero lost
for words. It was the intervention of Karu the Victory Sun that
soothed the tempers. Karu reminded the lot that there was a code of
ethics here. The problem pal, is that no one seems to be giving two
hoots about that little code; they are all hell bent on decoding it.
And here is one
last nut about Ray-noo. Now when our man goes the gym way to pump, all
the ladies go, “Ahh... The 20 million man.” There is more; the
Leading rag has gone missing from studios that Ray-noo is heading.
Guess it is hear no evil, see no evil eh!