“Can you walk faster than that please! And Harry, try and keep up with our pace”, Greed says as he lifts his spectacles back into position.
“I am trying boss, Harry explains. ” But I think the heat has expanded my feet, the shoes feel a size too small.”, he goes on as he tries to keep up with the pace of Greed.
“Boss,” Santos calls as he leads the pack of three through the rough slum street. “I think we shall be there before the chants begin. I wouldn’t want us to miss the motorcade.”
“We had better be there. The way things are it seems our camp is slowly loosing supporters and we have to be grateful to the hand that feeds us”, Greed states as he jumps a heap of rubbish.
The trio’s journey traverses the slum like a pack of hungry lions eager to get to the other side of the forest where prey is juicy and ready.
“What time are we supposed to leave after the occasion?” Harry asks.
“As long as the media has done enough coverage and the event is rated as the best political meet of the year, we get paid and we leave”.
“What if a riot erupts? Do we fight back or leave?” Harry inquires.
Suddenly, Greed stops walking. He turns abruptly and his spectacles almost have a collision with Harry’s nose. He breathes roughly. Santos is a few steps ahead of them but realising what is about to happen, he walks back and stands guard looking on both sides to make sure no one is watching them. Greed stares at Harry and speaks, spittle hitting Harry’s nose.
“Wakitaka war tuna wa gay war”. (If they want war, they will get war).
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