I was trying to imagine the conversation between Jacob Zuma and Shabbier Shaik the other day prior to his release. Here's how it goes:
SS: "eh, JZ man. I can't stay here anymore. I have done my time man. My arsritis is killing me - there's this big ou - Bongani - who really has it in for me. The pizza is really shit man 'coz the local Debonair's has moved. And jeez man, I am not sure how much longer I can keep up this illness scam. I am getting calluses on my butt."
JZ: "eish Shabbi. Sorry man. I'll see what I can do. I am seeing comrade Balfour tonight about a loan. But in the meantime go take a disprin and a shower - works for me."
SS: "Hey! Can't take a shower man 'coz that is where Bongani is waiting for me. He just keeps on saying "drop the soap. Please drop the soap Shabbi. I can't take it anymore. He doesn't even cuddle afterwards."
JZ: "So what is the problem with that, at least you're getting some love. I'm not into this same sex stuff, but desperate time's require desperate men. Eish, I just thought of something. What about early parole on medical grounds - yah man - you are sick man, really sick. They must go for it, I mean you have been in bed since you got there."
SS: "No more sickness man. I've been in bed for two fucking years my brother. No more. But then again I am getting quite good at it. It may just work. Especially if I remember it's my left leg that's sore - I keep on swopping - thank god no-one has noticed yet. OK, let's do it. Speak to comrade Balfour and I will carry on chewing the fucking chalk. It helps that the hospital food is so shit too. 'Coz who wouldn't look sick on that stuff."
JZ: "I have only one concern Shabbi. If the media get hold of this then we are in the shit - again. I can't sue anyone else for defamation...there is no-one left. You probably find that Zapiro shit will have a field day - luckily I wouldn't be directly linked to the parole decision, but I will make sure some of my doctors are on the medical team. You do realise that your medical condition must be terminal before you can be given medical parole?"
SS: "Ja, ja JZ. I read that part. Listen to this [croaky at death doorway voice]. I am sick doc. I am really sick. Everything hurts. I bleed from my arse everyday after my shower. I have indigestion [from eating too much shit pizza] that eats me from the inside out. My brain wants to explode [from trying to think how the hell to get out of here and how I can get my business back from those NPA bastards]. [Normal chirpy voice] How does that sound my brother?"
JZ: "Good, good. You are a better actor than I am. You should get an Oscar - or maybe a MP post for that. Sooo, let's see what happens with Balfour tonight. I am sure he will comply...I'll just go and get him a bottle of whiskey from Thabo's collection. Sure he will like that.
Some advice about Bongani. Take the dispirin before you shower..."
SS: "No man, JZ. That won't work..."
JZ: "Of course it will. Put the pill between your knees. Tell Bongani you have a headache today."
SS: "Must go, here comes Bongani with that tub of margarine again."
JZ: "Yah sure. Hey Shabbi, you know that interest you claimed back from the NPA. Can I have some? I am buying a new car - found another stupid bank to give me some credit."
SS: "Ja sure. I am sure my kids can eat some more maize for a few days."
JZ: "Cheers my China. You're the best."
SS: "Gotta run. Bongani is rubbing that marge on his - oh god no! Bongani stop it man, not here. Let's go somewhere private - I've got a reputation to uphold."
Bongani: "Ja Shabbi and I've got a need..."
[Click]