Debate
FIFTH COLUMN
“Debater one, how will you go about curing Aids?”
“A painting of a man with his penis hanging out.”
“Final answer?”
“Final answer.”
“A painting of a man with his penis hanging out going once, going twice and sold to the man on the street as a possible cure for Aids.”
“Debater five, you are stranded on a deserted island with no infrastructure. There’s a tap, but it’s under padlock. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the mayor comes to open the tap. On Mondays and Fridays, the premier steps ashore. Who do you shoot first? Oh, yes – you have a gun also.”
“I won’t shoot them; I’ll throw them with shit.”
“Shit that you get where?”
“My own shit I get from shitting all over the island.”
“Whoa, that’s a great answer! Debater six, you come to a crossroad on a dirt road in an Isuzu advertisement. Left takes you to Jo’burg, but the road is tolled; right becomes a Prasa train track taking you to a certain death, but it’s scenic. You’re drinking Nesquik. What colour are you, and by colour I mean race?”
“White. Black. Indian. Somalian? I don’t know. Is it a race? Coloured? Can you repeat the question?”
“Pussy. Debater seven, tonight’s lucky number is crime statistics. Murder is up, theft is up, rape is way up. You’ve now won the Lotto and find yourself listening to dialling tone while calling the police in an emergency. What melody would you like to hear?”
“Tough one. Is Shoot the Boer on the table? No? Okay, the Stellenbosch choir doing an upbeat number, but crying all the while.”
“Are you sure? This might be the last thing you hear ever.”
“Wait, no. Let’s go for a road accident. A massive road accident and screaming.”
“Excellent answer. I’m shuffling as we speak. Well, debater three, you’ve heard the prospects. Who do you choose?”
“Can I see them first?”
“Very well. Debaters one, six and seven – reveal your very selves! What do you think, debater three?”
“Debate master …”
“Master debater, please.”
“Master debater, I think I’m going to be sick. Can I get parole?”
“Hell no, debater three! Does this look like a Monopoly board? You can’t just get out of jail for free, three. Fuck, it rhymes. Debater seven, switch places with debater three.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now! There’s no time. The elections are but a year away.”
“It’s 10 days to the Rugby World Cup, master debater.”
“That it is. That it is.”
“Naas.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Wouldn’t it be naas to win the World Cup?”
“Funny, debater one. You’re exempt. The rest of you, the tribe has spoken: walk over this slip-and-slide, climb into your constituents’ shoes and bend over that log. Debater one, you have 10 seconds to get the sjambok, jump through hoops and go to town council on them. Ready, set, go!”