PUÇI/ He finds the Prime Minister's Office empty, the Doctor enters and refuses to leave: He is a jinn

TIRANA – It was a quiet evening two days ago when a man in a white overcoat, seemingly alone but accompanied at a distance by several invisible guards, descended from an eighth-floor apartment on Shpresës Alley and set off in silence, with a determined step and his right shoulder slightly tilted, towards a building a hundred steps below.

The targeted building was stately; it seemed to be related to something governmental, but strangely the man with the hunchback was not impressed.

He approached the guard like a dandy, said in an authoritative voice, "The boss is waiting for me upstairs, you can leave now that the shift is over ," and didn't wait for a response. His mysterious companions followed him, young guys who had emerged from nowhere.

After surrounding the perimeter of the building, the guys were inspecting the rooms and grounds of the building.

"I've got two rooms," said one of them, and that was all it took. The entire building was quickly divided, while a separate floor was given to the overcoat, who entered the office filled with drawings and butterflies on the wall, took a deep breath and said in a low voice, " Now you're out of my hands, you vagabond!"

***

The news that the Prime Minister's Office had been taken completely by surprise took the Tall One, who was solving global crises one by one at the Munich Conference. He was told that the perpetrator was a man in a pardesyoid suit, with slightly dove-tailed hair.

"Mooos," he said to himself, "The Doctor of the 90s."

He felt a chill run down his spine when he thought that he might have to start over from his scathing journalistic articles in Koha e Nikolës, get beaten up by SHIK, sell good and cheap paintings in Paris, eat pasta without oil once a day under the bridges of the Seine, and call Tos Nano to make him Minister of Culture.

"No, no, no, this is not going to happen," he shouted to himself and slammed his fist on the table, adding, " Fuck, fuck, fuck...".

***

Meanwhile, in the Prime Minister's Office building in Tirana, someone had spray-painted, "It's Xanun! God of the Earth, Noc Rroku," while Nul Moka had brought a tank from the Republican Guard to the entrance. Because he didn't know how to start it, he had gathered the guys and they had pushed it with a sledgehammer to the Prime Minister's Office.

On the other hand, Edi Palosja had taken over RTSH and interrupted the news broadcast to declare live, "now the kiss is ours!"

As if by magic, the flowerbeds around the prime minister's office were filled with kiosks selling everything from open cigarettes to roasted seeds and hamburgers filled with donuts and Pakistani mayonnaise. On both sides of Lana, various one- and two-story buildings with billiards, paidhaqe, bingo and notaries who ate paidhaqe and played bingo sprang up. When they won, they went to play a round of billiards.

***  

The crisis committee had gathered at the headquarters of the Socialist Party. The situation was dire and something had to be done. Asking America for help seemed futile. Ever since Donald Trump heard that the Doctor had spoken out against parent one and parent two, and had declared that he would defend conservative American values ??to the end - precisely those values ??that the American President held so dear when he put his hands on all the women who came his way - US intervention was out of the question.

The socialist committee consisted of little Braçja and Mandi Pajko. All the others had disappeared. Even Bella Ballukja, who had been asked to take blood from her armpit, had been reported to be feeling a little unwell. Braçja sent a fax to Të Gjanti, urging him to return urgently and asking for instructions.

Mandi Majko suggested getting Lilo out of prison and putting him at the head of the committee. "He's a scoundrel, he's proven he's a fighter. That's what we did with comrade Nano in '97: We took him out of prison and made him grand vizier," Pajko told Braçe.

Braçe agreed. " I have good memories with Lilo. I was even a witness at the wedding ," he said, and the two went to buy a prepaid card to call Të Gjati.

*** 

“Nooooo, not again with Lilo ,” shouted I Gjati, shaking the hall. The Macedonian Prime Minister interrupted his speech and urgently asked for some water. “I Gjato, are you okay?” he asked worriedly, “you’ve turned yellow, you’ve turned watery with sweat.”

He lay there looking around as if dazed. It had been a bad dream, a state of confusion, almost like fainting. The noises of the conference had tired him out and he had dozed off right in the middle of a panel discussing the future of Europe.

"Thank you," he said to himself, as his face turned pale and he apologized to the audience, " sorry, I'm the Tall One, sometimes..." But a journalist from the audience interrupted him:

"That's enough, you earthling man, we found out you're tall, you tell us that at every conference! Do you have anything to tell us about the Doctor who took over the prime ministership?"

The Tall One fainted again...

Note: Patrona?isti is a satirical column with occasional retrospective tendencies.