Political Satire: The Old Man of the Mountain (21)


Well-Known Member
May 1, 2014
Narrator: After travelling many miles in the daytime and sleeping on a tree at night, the priest arrived at a small town of a tiny landlocked principality in the evening. Feeling hungry, he went into a restaurant for dinner. Some distance away from his table, two men, one in his forties and the other seventies, were drinking heavily. Halfway in their drinking bout, the older man staggered onto a stage with a bottle in his left hand, took a drink and spoke to the diners.

Older man: When they put my great friend (pointing at the younger man) on to refute my speech during the mayoral election last year, do you remember that catastrophe? He’s like this: "I need water. Help me, I need water." He was speaking to a large audience at an election rally. This total choke artist. He is now the "little boss" of this restaurant. Unbelievable!

Narrator: As he spoke, he staggered around and drank theatrically. He splashed the liquor around before tossing the bottle behind him on stage. Meanwhile, the younger man managed to stagger onto the stage with a bottle in his right hand.

Older man: Here comes our ”little boss”.

Younger man (smiling): Have you seen his hands? They’re like this. And you know what they say about men with small hands? You can’t trust them!

Older man: He's a nervous Nellie. I watched him backstage, he's a mess; the guy's a total mess. I joked recently, could you imagine the prince sitting there waiting for a meeting, and my great friend walks in and he's totally drenched?

I don't know what it is but I have never seen a human being sweat like this man sweats.

Younger man: He doesn't sweat because his pores are clogged from the spray tan. The mayor, my good friend here, isn't gonna make our town great, he's gonna make our town orange. He should sue whoever did that to his face.

Older man: Lightweight failing mayoral candidate was working hard one night last year. The problem is, he is a choker, and once a choker, always a choker! Mr Meltdown.

Younger man: He called me Mr Meltdown. Let me tell you something, last year in the debate during one of the breaks, two of the breaks, he went backstage and he was having a meltdown. First he had one of those makeup things applying around his mustache because he had one of those sweat mustaches. Then, then he asked for a full length mirror, I don’t know why because the podium goes up to here (gestured to chest). I don’t know why maybe to make sure his pants weren’t wet.

Older man: Fake News!

Younger man: It's time. The charade is up … a tough guy? This guy inherited a fortune. He's never faced any struggle … He has never punched anyone in the face. He was the first guy that begged for police protection. First guy.

He is a guy that has been protected his whole life, has been privileged his whole life, has been insulated his whole life — nothing tough about any of that.

Older man (Reading a handwritten note taken from his pocket): Lying failing mayoral candidate and lightweight chocker teamed up one night last year in a last ditch effort to stop our great movement. They failed!

Younger man (Reading the handwritten note which he snatched from the older man): “Lightweight failing mayoral candidate was working hard that night,” — this is true — “the problem is he is a choker, and once a choker, always a chocker.” He spelled choker, C-H-O-K-E-R.

How does this guy — not one time, three times — misspell words so badly? And I only reach two conclusions — number one, that’s how they spell those words at the school where he went, or number two, just like his trading company, he must have hired a foreign worker to write his notes and letters.

Older man: Fake News is working overtime!

Younger man: He’s the only one running for mayoral election that’s ever hired illegal immigrants to work for him. Oh no wait, he’s going to protect you from immigrants taking your jobs. Well why is he hiring foreigners to do the jobs at his companies that our workers are trying to get?

Older man: Fake News! Fake News! This is the only real answer - and we must continue to BUILD THE WALL!

Younger man: The reason why he won't release his taxes is because he hasn’t made nearly enough money as he claims he does. I mean this is a guy who has taken his rickshaw company bankrupt. His brand of liquor no one wants it, his pawn shop was a disaster and his school was a fraud.

Maybe he is not as rich as he says he is. His inheritance is from his daddy.

Older man: Fake News! I am involved, so I know when you're telling the truth and when you’re not.

Younger man: I will never stop until we keep a con man from taking over more power than a town mayor. He’s a con man. He's a con man. He’s a con man. I'll tell you why.

He started a fake school. He duped people into borrowing a lot of money, for manufacturing his clothing line overseas, for building his business on the back of his inheritance, and for hiring undocumented immigrants.


Younger man: A con artist is about to take over our party, and we have to put a stop to it. He is wholly unprepared to be a good town mayor.

Friends do not let friends vote for con artists.

Older man: Fake News! Believe me.

Younger man: I mean, this is unreal. Again, this guy is a con artist. He’s always making things up. No one holds him accountable for it. You have a guy who is being sued right now for fraud for his school. I’ve had stories written about my poor behaviour in school. He’s being sued for fraud, for defrauding people. Here’s a guy who had to pay a judgment for hiring foreign workers illegally to build his school.

Older man: Fake News is working overtime! (Singing the Build the Wall Song.)
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Narrator: After leaving the stage, the older man (the town mayor) staggered out of the restaurant. As the younger man (the restaurant owner) passed the priest's table, he noticed that the priest was not a sleek, well-dressed patron like the others but wearing dusty, old clothes.

Restaurant owner: Just like some customers, what you don’t steal from us, you buy away from us.

Priest (with a wry smile): Is this the way you treat your customers? Treating them like thieves?

As the proverbial saying goes, "Fair exchange is no robbery", I am shocked by your negative attitude towards your customers.

Restaurant owner: Although my restaurant is doing a roaring business, I increasingly feel that I have been shortchanged by my customers. I don't prosper as a responsible restaurant operator. As there is not much profit in my business, I am going to raise the price of my restaurant food soon.

Priest (Smiling): Then you will miss your customers dreadfully after they have their last supper or dinner here. You might as well close your door, and if that is not enough, build a wall round your restaurant and keep all the food for your own consumption. It will guarantee you fair exchange.

Narrator: The restaurant co-owner intervened in the dispute.

Restaurant co-owner: Please excuse him. My partner enjoys bantering with his customers. You are lucky to be the chosen one for his bantering.

Furthermore, where else can you watch a free theatrical performance by the restaurant boss and the town mayor during dinner? Please come again next time. It's absolutely worth every cent you spend even after we increase the price.

Narrator: In the midst of their argument, a waiter rushed in to alert the restaurant owner that a customer had given away his packet of takeaway meal to a beggar woman and her son outside the restaurant. Still holding his bottle of liquor, the restaurant owner staggered out with the waiter to punish the "troublemaker".

Having footed the bill, the priest followed them to find out what was happening. Outside, they saw a young man standing beside a beggar woman who was feeding a small boy with food from a small bowl. The restaurant owner reproached the young man for giving away his takeaway meal to the beggars.

Restaurant owner: You are not supposed to give, not even sell, my restaurant food to beggars.

Young man: This woman beggar and her son were kneeling and crying when they begged me to give them some food as they had not eaten for the whole day. Don't you, as a human being, treat your fellow countrymen with compassion and respect?

Restaurant owner: I repeat, don't give or sell MY restaurant food to beggars, especially in front of my restaurant.

Young man: What? YOUR food? It's MINE after I bought it from your restaurant. Why can't I have the freedom to do whatever I like with something that I have purchased? The takeaway meal belongs to me, not you, after I paid for it with my own money. Can I claim that the money which I have paid to you still belongs to me?

Restaurant owner: My restaurant is first rate in this region. Its patrons include the prince, the mayor, government officials, celebrities and tycoons. What will be the impact on my restaurant’s business and prestige if they know beggars are eating the same food as them? What will be the impact on my restaurant’s business and prestige if they think the food sold here is too “low class” for their consumption? You are doing irreparable damage to my restaurant's business and prestige.

Narrator: In the midst of the argument, the waiter told his employer that he suddenly recalled seeing the young man winning a fighting match last year to become the new martial art champion of the principality.

Restaurant owner: I have long cherished an ambition to be the top fighter in the principality. Hence I am glad to learn that you are the new kung fu champion. Let us cross the road to the field over there to settle the score. We shall find out whose kung fu will win, my “drunken fist” or your “snake fist”.

Narrator: As the two men went over to the field to settle the score, the priest went around the town in search of lodging for the night. On the way he could not help thinking: "It's an unsettling to learn that the goods you purchase won’t belong to you but to others instead."




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