Monsieur. Madame, bonjour! ( Opening line on one of my all-time favourite anime, Gankutsuou, of course, tweaked to suit the time of the day, but, I digress)
I have missed you.
Believe me? No? Good.
What i have missed is writing. Writing something that makes me chuckle as i think up ridiculous dialogues.
I have therefore decided, to help kick-start my flailing writing career, to start a weekly ‘column’ of sorts.
Satirical Saturday.
I love satires. I love humorous satires. I love my brand of humorous biblical satires. (Merely revealing the human side!)
(Why Saturday? What better day to have sit than the sabbath eh?)
Important disclaimer: This is in no way  mockery. I seek to write in new characters to familiar stories. Characters oft forgotten because we’re too focused on the biggies. They would be of different nationalities (mostly Nigerian, because, Nigerians are funny people).
I would not change ow the stories go and/or end, no fears.
I have actually done something similar here, (A Play)
Enough chitchat.
I do hope you enjoy the first of its kind!

 

Satirical Saturday: The King and The Psychologist

“So…Mr…Solomon?”
“Mr?”
Awkward silence and shuffling of feet. “Oh Pardon me! KING Solomon”
“Should I?”
“Eh…that was just an expression Sir.”
A raised eyebrow. “Sir?”
“Eh..King?”
Regal sigh. “O King, Mr Psychologist. O King”
Awkward shuffling of papers. “Alright, O King. So. You need my help. What might be the problem?”
“What isn’t?”
“Sir? I mean. O King?”
“Yes. What isn’t a problem? Look at the world today. From the state of its dire affairs to that colour of shirt you have on, my good man. Everything is a problem. Though I must add…your shirt really is a fat kid. It takes the cake.”
“Oh. Wow. What interesting…humour King”
Shuffling papers. “Fair enough. So, your notes say you have trouble sleeping?”
“What is sleep?”
“Er. Sleep is a restful period your bod…”
“Rhetorical, Psychologist. Rhetorical”
The King studies his nails.
Beginning to feel unsure of himself. “So…King?”
“You know, starting a sentence with ‘So’ is a sign of one’s intelligence or indeed, as portrayed by you, a lack of one. Such a plebeian thing to do. Tut tut”
“Pardon my ordinariness, Highness”
“Pardoned”
Pause. “That was sarcasm”
“So was my reply. Carry on”
A sigh. “So…I mean. Well. You have described feelings of emptiness? ‘Vanity upon Vanity? All is Vanity?’ I believe was how you put it?”
“Isn’t it?”
Pause. “Isn’t it what?”
“Vanity. Pay attention please. Poor as you are,  you can pretend to manage that yes?”
“Yes I ca…huh.”
A frown.
The King examines his nails.
“You know. I find it worrying that this speck of gold under my nail, inanimate as it is, is doing a better job at holding my attention compared to you, a man who wasted four years of his life in a place of learning. What school was that again? Covenant? Hah! What would a heathen know about Covenant?”
Mumbling under breath.
“Say something?”
Flushed. “Eh! No! Yes! You have gold under your nails??”
A long, calculated look.
“Insolence, dear man. Remember whose presence you sit before”
Whispers. “Apologies”
“Mm. To answer your question. Yes, gold. An ornately designed bedpost and a young dark maiden from a faraway land. Well…former maiden”
A shrug.
“Ah. Ok. Good thing you have mentioned that. Let’s talk about it”
Affronted, half-rising. “Talk about what, you filthy man! My nightly activities? You Philistine! Perversion! Guards!”
Two burly Nigerian touts troupe in.
“AH OMO WEREY! YOU DEY CRASE! YOU WAN DIE?”
“Mercy, King! Mercy!”
One breaks a bottle on his own head.
“IF I FIT NACK MYSELF YOU THINK SAY I NO GO NACK YOU!”
Psychologist falls in a dead faint.
King claps and his guards retreat.
He sits back, watching the prone form of the man on the floor.
Whispers. “O-ye-de-po”
Eyes flutter wide  open and he jumps up.
“Please. Take a seat.”
“In..interesting guards”
“Ah yes. Kamaru and Kasali. Came with one of the maidens. I forget which.”
“Ah” Clears throat. “Well, to carry on. I believe you have…698 wives?”
“700. Just 700. I have two alliances to seal with two warring kingdoms.”
“And you marry their daughters?”
“Indeed. It is part of the Peace treaty”
“I know this may be a top-secret information but permit me one question. How?”
A beatific smile. “Well, as you have gracefully admitted to your wholesome ignorance, I shall give an explanation to my actions. For people must admire my wisdom.”
“You have just insulted me. Sir. King”
A raised royal brow. “Problem?”
Pause. “Now, these two warring kingdoms are indeed so because both Kings have failed to produce male offspring. And because of a lingering distrust, one cannot marry off the daughter to another kingdom without the other feeling threatened. In I come, the wisest man to ever walk on earth. That is a fact by the way. God said so himself.”
“Ah..”
“Do not interrupt me. As I said, In I come. I provide a most suitable solution. I marry both dashing damsels and thus, no reason to fear a betrayal.”
“But, who then rules after the Kings die?”
Another beatific smile. “I would. Of course. Wisdom, my good man. Wisdom”
Clears throat. “Would you say your acquiring of maidens both legally and illegally…300 concubines it says here”
“And counting”
“Oh… Ok… Well would you say your predilection for women is an attempt to stifle your boredom that comes with having it all?””
“As alluring as women are, gentle creatures, they do not ‘stifle’ my boredom. They in fact play no part in relieving me of my, as you put it, ‘boredom that comes with having it all’. Quote. Unquote.”
“Don’t you think having 1000 women for yoursels if a bit..i don’t know… over the top?”
“It is?”
“Indeed! You essentially sleep with a whole village of women! How? Do you have a timetable? Some men are single out here. Don’t you think you’re stealing their future brides?”
A suspicious glare. “You do seem very interested in my women, Philistine. Are you married?”
“Eh. No Sir. I’m still young. I’m only 28”
Snort. “Young. How cute. I was already King then, leading God’s own nation.  I had the wealth of many nations. The gold, the onyx, prized horses of Egypt. Ah… good ole days. But we can’t all be successful people can we? I shall pretend to understand your…struggle life. Awks.”
*Sips tea*
“It can pain. One advice. Get a wife. I do not want to see you sniffing where my ladies are kept. Running to hold the horns of the tabernacle would not save you. Ask Joab. Didn’t save him. ”
Nervously clears throat. “I was planning no such thing Sir King”
“Good”
Silence. Shuffling paper.
An impatient sigh. The King arises.
“Er, we’re not done yet Sir. You paid for an hour’s session”
“I’m taking a walk in my garden to talk to the worms in the soil, Mr Psychologist. They most likely would do a better job at alleviating my burden than you have done.”
Mouth wide open.
King stops mid-stride. “Oh and Mr?”
A whisper. “Yes?”
“Kindly return my money to the treasury. I trust you have not soiled them with your fingerprints? I’d have to throw them into a furnace to have them purified of dirt if you have.”
Without waiting for a reply, King Solomon exits the room.
The psychologist is slumped in his seat, rubbing his face. “Man, I hate rich people. Need a fucking psychologist myself!”
A Nigerian servant nearby. “Oga, abeg dey go. Dem say make I sweep you and your dotti comot for this room”
The Psychologist stand angry. “How dare you! Do you know who I am! I graduated with a PhD! PhD!”
Nigerian servant, unfazed. “How dat wan take consign me? If I close my eye open am and you still dey here ehn! I go wipe you dis broom!”
Psychologist quickly exits the room.
Nigerian servant begins sweeping, whistling.

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