Day 1: I need a coffee
I see Jacob of The Times coming to chase me with a microphone. I know what he’s going to ask me. He’s going to ask me about my property dealings with a man who is alleged to have been involved in a kidnap, in narcotic smuggling, in money and drug laundering, and in car hire scam. I am prepared with an answer. I don’t look him in the eye, mind you, I have a habit of looking at my own nose when I’m answering questions. I tell him: “Jeykowb, your newspaper is lying. Do you know how I know that? Because we caught your editor at Costa Coffee with Christian Peregin of the PN! Costa Coffee!”
Tsk, tsk, in my day we used to meet over a simple cup of Lion’s Tea tajjeb għal qalb. It was then that I decided to give him a mega exclusive scoop: “Jeykowb, listen, why are you picking on me, why don’t you pick on the opposition leader, eh? He has a house with a pool! A pool! Is it my little alleged deal with a criminal that’s worrying you? Go and look at his pool, Jeykowb!”
Day 2: I need my boat
Super One followed my drift and sent a drone hovering over the opposition leader’s house to get a close-up of the pool. But Bernard Grech went and spoilt it all by telling journalists about it. Now that footage can’t be shown, dammit. And viewers of Super One won’t be able to see how Nationalists all have pools because they are all rich and how us socialists have to live and suffer in austerity. (I live in a sea-front apartment in Marsascala and I have two large properties in Gozo and in Malta both with a garden and pool, and I also have a multi-million deck boat that I go to Sicily with every weekend but that’s not the same because I am a wild il-ħaddiem laburist.)
Day 3: I need the gym
The Council of Europe has issued a report on Malta. Another one! Enough already with these reports! They’re like The Times, always picking on us. I’m sure they meet Peregin at Costa Coffee too. Now they’re saying that my government is discrediting journalists. What spinners they are. They spin everything. Yes, we block information that should be in the public domain and yes, we rubbish and insult and abuse investigative journalists at every opportunity but that’s self-defence because we’re the underdog, it’s not fair for the nation that the underdog party is attacked. But I say, bring it on! I can take it because I am a bodybuilder.
I keep name-dropping my very, very good friend and now non-traitor Roberta Metsola- Kristina Chetcuti
Day 3: I need my smile
I keep being asked about my predecessor’s severance package. There’s no way I’m going to publish the agreement, even though it’s about the use of public money. I just smile my trademark stretchy smile in the general direction of my nose when I’m asked about it. True, Joseph Muscat gave himself €120,000 when he was forced to resign – that’s double the usual termination benefits; and he also gave himself a fully equipped and refurbished government office at Sa Maison for his private use.
Yes, he is a tiny bit of a qammiel scrounger negotiator. But then, he is Joseph Muscat, our mexxej. His wife campaigned for me to become prime minister. I gave him all that and more – although I’m not saying what the more is. So, journalists shouldn’t keep on digging because Joseph Muscat is a private person now, so much so that he uploads his Facebook videos from his washroom. I am doing my very best not to irritate him – because you never know from where all these stories about me and my dealings-which-are-not-as-important-as-a-PN-pool are coming from and we don’t want more of those, do we?
Day 4: I need my friend Roberta
The European Court of Justice just confirmed that EU funds will be given on condition that the member states respect the rule of law. What a headache. I know that we are labelled as ‘a high-risk state’. I know because I watch Netflix and I know that Malta keeps being featured in series as the place to be for money laundering and corrupt activities and killing of journalists.
When I meet my friends the prime ministers at the European Council, I start humming to myself and smile my stretchy smile when they mention the grey list; Konrad Mizzi; Electorgas; Yorgen Fenech… la la la, I’m not hearing you. If they mention Joseph Muscat, then I reassure them that if I have to meet him, we sit at opposite ends of a grand dinner table as big as Putin’s. Otherwise, when I’m not humming, I keep name-dropping my very, very good friend and now non-traitor Roberta Metsola. Now I can also tell them that Varist called the US Ambassador and she politely listened to his hour-long lecture on the phone and we have a photo to prove it. That should do the trick.
Day 5: I need Steward
Joseph Muscat came with the Steward Healthcare people to my office, soon after I became prime minister, and just as I was mulling severing the seemingly bogus hospital contract. Well, Joseph Muscat, he knows them well. I didn’t want to irritate him. So, I decided to keep giving millions of euros to Steward, even if they keep wanting more, and the hospitals are pretty much in the same state, if not worse, than before we started pumping these millions. It’s hard-earned money of socialist Maltese families we’re giving away, but like I said, and will keep saying, Muscat’s wife campaigned for me.