The Tribune

A Comic's View

By Inigo 'Naughty' Zenicazelaya

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house

Not an MP was stirring, from “doer” to “louse”;

The stockings were hung in the smokers’ room with care,

Hoping St Nick and VAT money soon would be there;

Junior ministers and backbenchers were snug in their beds,

As visions of LOIs danced in their heads;

Perry sat in the kitchen with Brave square on his lap,

Saying “don’t ever challenge me boy, go take ya nap”;

When out of the blue there arose such a clatter,

And Allyson screamed “don’t forget my Baha Mar matter.”

Away to the window Loretta flew like ‘red flash’,

Tore open the shutters and prepared for a clash.

The moon peered down on Bahamaland below,

As Perry gazed up wondering, “why my dead relatives een show?”

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

Five PLP MPs tip-toeing out of there,

With a well-known driver so lively and quick,

Who knew Doc Minnis was also St Nick?

And quicker than Papa had carried his behind,

Doc whistled and shouted and all fell in line:

“Now Renny! Now Rollins! On Moss! Gomez! Pinder!

This keep up, the PLP will be cinder!”

Meanwhile, green with envy, spying way across the land,

Bran realised he was no longer ‘the man’.

The Potcake popped up and barked, “I’ne upset.

But if y’all mess with me I’ll make ya you-know-what sweat!

I’ne mad dem fellas gone ‘cause it’s about time,

But what the hell the rest of yinna gon’ do ‘bout crime?”

Obie jumped up, running on and rambling,

Something about Carnival and a next thing about gambling.

Freddie sat up and said “Just watch Munroe round the egg nog,

He have one too many and we all getting flog!”

Khaalis was in the corner with his toter’s tin foil,

Saying “Bey I can’t wait til they let me loose on this oil!”

Perry stood up, his mouth drawn up like a bow,

The hair on his head was suddenly white as snow.

He started shaking, like a bowl full of jelly,

“Man this feel worse than when Saxons in my belly”.

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself,

And slowly put the Mace back on top of the shelf;

The look in his eye, and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but sat down all forlorn,

Then said, “NHI coming but next election I gone!”

Doc rode away, like the down of a thistle,

Saying “I tell y’all stop selling we tings for a whistle!”

Perry went to bed, and turned out the light -

Merry Christmas everyone, and in ‘17 vote right!

• In the style of Clement Clarke Moore’s ‘A Visit from St Nicholas’

• Inigo ‘Naughty’ Zenicazelaya is the resident stand-up comic at Jokers Wild Comedy Club at the Atlantis, Paradise Island, resort and presents ‘Mischief and Mayhem in da AM’ from 6am to 10am, Monday to Friday, and ‘The Press Box’ sports talk show on Sunday from 10am to 1pm on KISS FM 96.1. He also writes a sports column in The Tribune on Tuesday. Comments and questions to

izenicazelaya@tribunemedia.net