The ANC Executive committee held a pre-Fifa “Bosberaad” last Friday evening at Luthuli House. The topic was the quasi surreptitious introduction of a R50,000 public liquor licence during the period of the SWC, and how best to get away with it. Usually a 12 hour affair between heavy drinking binges, the meeting took over 3 days due to infighting.
Zuma, CEO, Chairman of the Committee, Big Cheese, Baas Boy, and Royal Excellency was surprised when the normally quiet event took on a more rambunctious tone. He had secretly timed the meeting so another two board members, Pravin Ghordahn and Trevor Manual, would be passed out from excessive alcohol consumption. But as the meeting began, he realised his cunning plan was soon to turn to shreds due to unforeseen complications.
In burst JuJu Malema, the 19 stone pot bellied, undereducated goat boy, frothing at the mouth, and snatched the minutes agenda from the Baas Boys’ hands and demanded a platform for comment. He bounced around the room screaming about Nationalisation (He was, after all, prone to spasms) The Committee understood this. Hell they wanted the same thing, but had no idea how to implement the policy without serious deleterious effects on their own personal income. They frothed with him.
The Baas Boy then attempted to retake the floor, but his tongue had fallen asleep (as it is prone to do whenever he attempts to speak English)
After JuJu had ranted for 2 hours, Jessie Duarte, ugly as ever, then entered the fray, complaining about the FiFi web site's lack of accessibility and accused it of being racist. She demanded that the site remove all references to the purchasing of tickets and accused it of rampant Capitalism. The Committee members tried to soothe her by explaining that whilst Capitalism was bad for South Africa, and especially the poor, it was definitely OK for the ANC. She was not biting, and danced around in a frenzy whilst ululating in a high pitch.
While this was all going on, JuJu continued to shimmy around the room and the Baas Boy saw his chance.
“WAIT!” he cried! “I have the perfect solution. The SWC is all about the poor right!” (More a rhetorical statement than a question.) “We need to re-affirm our DEDICATION to the struggle, and to the poor”.
“In spirit of course, he added hastily…”Not actually in Rands and cents. The poor don’t understand money. They don’t really need money, they just need to keep voting for us. As long as we can pretend to be Governing, and if they think this is a legitimate tax, they will be happy!”
"What about the people who will realise that it’s just a money raising scheme?" Jessie interjected, to which the Bass Boy exclaimed…"They know how many votes we got last year…..FUCK THEM!"
The board collapsed together, vomiting all over the place. It would work! The liquor licence bill was unanimously adopted for the gazette. Several hours went by with the group passed out in the conference room.
Finally, JuJu, who had conveniently slipped out as soon as he had heard the result, strolled back into the room, fresh from a Sandton BMW showroom and defecated in the entryway, with a satisfied grunt.
Jessie woke Baas Boy, slammed the gavel down and called the meeting to an end.
They all headed to the bar for day three…
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