Tearing Velu from limb to limb

Darling Ma-hinder,

Little wonder dearie that you set time frames for the capture of the Cyanide Pill. It is only now the penny is dropping and dropping. I say darling, considering the state of the economy, I wish more pennies would drop. But no such luck for Thellie eh?

Anyway back to the capture of the Cyanide Pill. There the Tiger supremo was. Sitting on a tree trunk filing his middle finger nail, thinking pensive thoughts about bunkers, when the tsunami washed him out to sea. He's dead as a door nail you said. Later he was miraculously resurrected or perhaps given mouth to mouth resuscitation by Pamela Anderson in a yellow bathing suit, who possibly took time off the set of Baywatch to create a little bit of violent history. 

Be that as it may, believe me or believe me not, despite being washed out to sea by the terrible wrath of the gods over three years ago, there the chap was back like a bad penny as bright as a button saying this one day, doing that the next and giving lengthy speeches annually about how Rakneel was a fox with a bally imported safety net.

Together with his dislike for imported nets, the big cheese in the Wanni seemed to have a particular hatred for the green chaps..yes, I mean the green chaps not the green backs. You must get your SCOPP head or your PRUNE in Geneva to communicate with the American Bush about Cyanide's aversion to foreign nets dear.

You see Bush and his Laurel wreath have been traipsing all over the dark continent handing out millions of mosquito nets. Yellow ones, baby pink ones and powder blue too. Perhaps he will dip into the frozen Millennium Challenge Account and decide to give the Paradisians in the northern extremities some nets not knowing how averse those chaps are to the imported kind. Good thing to warn him in time darling.

And now one finds that the Cyanide fellow has been injured yet again. Thellie heard from the best sources that he had stubbed his toe on a hatchet that he had been trying to bury improperly.  Poor bloke. Was he rescued from the jaws of a watery death by the likes of a busty Pamela only to suffer the ignominy of a stubbed toe? Ah well, such is life one supposes.

And in the wilds of Wanni as he was creeping out of a spider hole ducking a missile here and avoiding a claymore mine there, the Cyanide Pill maybe was thinking that in the north of Paradise if it wasn't one thing it was another.

After all, the moment he opened the news rags there he was starting out of its pages with a headline that he was injured. That'll teach the fellow to examine himself thoroughly each morning as he does his five push-ups and 10 hand-stands. I mean to say, no rebel leader with any self respect would want to get to know of his injuries from the enemy rags at any cost.

If Osama Bin Laden were injured would he have to first read it in the newspapers? Definitely not I say. The fellow would have been the first to know. He would have picked up his dirty skirts scattered in and around his legs and darted out to the nearest tent to find if the doctor was in. But Cyanide? Not so clever.

First he gets himself washed away by the tsunami. Then he is brought ashore by the tide. If that isn't enough, he is killed by a wayward bomb, but manages to shake of the grim reaper and come to life again only to be told that he is injured. Too late he recalls that he is suffering from diabetes and takes a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

And now, injured as Cyanide is, the silly chap has gone and forgotten to take his insulin injections. The up shot? Half his leg falls off.

Makes you think doesn't it? All this time when you were paying out millions for military  hardware you should have really been  buying Cadbury chocolate and Candy creams at wholesale prices.

All you need to do now dear is start scouring the malls for saccharine sweets, strawberry wafers and milk toffee. The commissions won't be as attractive but hey think of the upside. Any remaining Marie biscuits can be easily stored in your bedside drawer and saved for later. Perhaps to munch as you watch Maha Gedera or Kindurangana on Sirasa TV.     

I said it once and I will say it again. It makes you think doesn't it? I mean to say darling, there the blot was for 30 years, playing around with battery operated mines and makeshift bombs and as luck would have it, its diabetes that gets him in the end. Well it only goes to show dearie. Blood Sugar is no bally respecter of persons.