They smiled for the cameras as if they had just won the grand final. Their ill-fitting suits are as much an embarrassment as their behaviour. They lied, cheated, made forced claims for dirty money and political mileage. Did they really think as they lived like oligarchs that we wouldn't notice their nefarious maneuvers? We have to impede these stupid people from manufactured fame as their bombardment of perjuries constantly flood our screens. It's as if their mouths are tumbling down the steps of the courthouse for there is only one language they understand. Kill their fucking dreams. Those in the know, profess that King Makers are like cockroaches post-apocalypse, the only survivors. But in this chaotic millennium, internet rummaging has captured them with their pants half-masked. They are now unable to sidestep belligerent governed agencies out for blood and sacrificial lambs. We're intoxicated by their misleading predictions of the future, ignorant of the all-important question, what about their past? And don't you just love their gangster-like names? Joe, Eddie, Moses and Ian. It's a stretch for anyone's imagination that these types would have lovers or even mothers. Yet now comes the winter of their expiry with their ducks in a row. Though who is that mask shooter? Is it the disgruntled masses, the hungry media, the internet hotter than your overpriced gas heater? The corporation where decisions are never resolved and machinations are fortified and safeguarded? At some critical point, these threatening fellows have to be wrapped and boxed. Let's get them out of the wooden dock and behind a barbed wire with no socks.