Malema and Zille Should have a baby!

I’ll give you a minute to stop choking on your cornflakes. There, there, breathe, take a sip of coffee and now relax. I have solved South Africa’s problems in one inspired burst of fantasy. Given the way these two name call and tit-for-tat each other, I say get a room already! And you know what!? I‘ll bet you anything it will be the best shag either of them ever had!

But seriously, think about it for a sec. Malema is destined to rule our beautiful country. It’s just a matter of time. Let’s hope he matures politically enough not to do a Mugabe on us all when the time comes. Zille, or rather the DA will never loose the Cape because my brasse vannie kaap will never vote for the darkies again, cos although we’re generally not the sharpest tools in the shed, we don’t enjoy being screwed over without our permission more than once, okay maybe twice.

So what to do, what to do! Picture this: Malema and Zille at some politically charged rally or speech or something. It’s raining outside, dark clouds laden with water hover in the skies above; the masses are toyi-toying outside. Lightning rips a violent bolt through the clouds, followed hurriedly by angry thunder.

Malema and Zille, unknowingly head for the toilets at the same time. They stop, look up at each other simultaneously and Julius, consumed with an unstoppable rage says: “Cockroach.” Zille, eyes blazing with indignation, replies with stoic control, moves closer, her nose nearly touching Malema’s. “Inkwenkwe” (uncircumcised boy) she whispers.

“Bastard” Screams Malema in uncontrolled fury, “I’ll show you who’s uncircumcised,” simultaneously whipping out his Johnson. Zille gasps: “My God, it’s, it’s, it’s so black!”

Time falters to slow-motion as she feels herself helpless to stop her hands from grabbing the black mamba, I mean member. And that’s when all passionate hell breaks loose. They barely make it into the loo. Vicious thunder and lightening roars them on to earth-shattering orgasms. The shattered bathroom door and basin, a telling testament to their deliciously violent sexual tryst.

Somehow they manage to disentangle themselves and slink back into the gathering. Now the guilt sets in, the absolute shame and disgust they both feel. Julius feels the wrath of his ancestors weighing down on his shoulders for shagging the cockroach. Zille, zig-zags between abject self-loathing, and post coital bliss, slowing feeling herself go insane.

Somehow they both manage to avoid each other in coming weeks. Both are surprised by an inexplicable longing for each other, mixed with a sudden involuntary reflex to vomit. Then it happens, Zille wakes one morning and rushes to the bathroom, just in-time to vomit. She’s pregnant!

After a few clandestine meetings with Malema they decide to call a press conference and announce their love to the world, proclaiming that the messiah to South Africa’s problems is growing in Zille’s belly. The crowd is stunned. The entire nation goes quiet... Then slowly we all realise the implications, the tribes are united for once, and we have a saviour on the way, baby Jesus, oops baby Julius Zille is on the way. And so the party begins, and we all live happily ever after. Come on Julius and Zille, time to stop fighting like teenagers and do your duty for Rome, I mean South Africa!

 


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