Two Newfoundlanders in a Bar Talk about Mike Duffy while listening to Blondie

-Will you look at him?

-I’d rather not.

-You can’t escape him, like.

-He’s everywhere. For all of the wrong reasons.

-He’s a rock star. A corrupt rock star. Like that one who played for Gaddafi.

-Elton John?

-John did it?

-I don’t know. Did he?

-I can’t remember. I mean the other one. The girl. What was her name?

-Kindof sounded like Gaddafi.

-Jalopy?

-Who?

-Jalopy. Sounds like Gaddafi.

-There’s a singer named Jalopy?

-I dunno, probably.

-You’re no help.

-No, I mean that girl. She played for the dictator. At a big party. Sang about a bird, like.

-Right. She was LIKE a bird.

-Yes, that one. Took the filthy lucre. Millions. She was bad.

-So she was worse than Duffy, then. I don’t think we’re talking millions here.

-Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. It was a whack of cash he took.

-And look at him now. Throwing everyone under the bus. Good thing it’s a long bus.

-They’re all the same. They’re all on the take, like.

Beholden to no one but God and country. What a load.

-Course I’m guessing you’d do the same.

-You’re guessing what?

-C’mon, b’y. You wouldn’t pinch a little here and there?

-I would not.

-Well, I would. I would steal from the whole lot of them. I’d steal huge! Hookers and blow huge!

-I can’t believe you’re confessing this.

-I haven’t actually done anything. I’m only sayin.

-So you’re sayin you’d be like that one there. That cheating tub ‘o lard. That nefarious cronut. Him and the hairdresser. One worse than the other.

-John, you’re being too hard. Too judgemental, like. He’s not the first and he certainly won’t be the last. If you, say, had a magic pass where you could order everyone in this bar a beer without thinking twice– and without ever paying– don’t tell me you wouldn’t do it.

-I’d buy the house a round with my own hard earned dollars. Of course I’d tell the bartender to kick your cheating arse out first. Then me and my tribe would enjoy a fine pint.

-You’re dreaming.

-“Dreaming.” The one by Blondie. D 12 on the box. Here’s a quarter. Do us both a favour.

-“Dreaming is free.”

-No it’s not, it’s a quarter.

-Which you just gave me. You’re a man of the people, John. A real man of the people.

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