Bis-Serjetà: Hi Joseph, thanks for accepting this interview.
Joseph Muscat: You’re very welcome. Although I have to say the choice of venue is a little strange.
BS: Our office upstairs is being renovated, so the basement will have to do I’m afraid.
JM: Ah, I see. Well, let’s get cracking. What would you like to ask me?
BS: To be honest, we didn’t prepare any questions in advance.
JM: No? That’s a rather unorthodox interviewing technique. But you are the most serious journalist in Malta so who am I to question your methods?
BS: Yes, well, the thing is, we noticed Lovin Malta have been asking you a lot of inane questions lately, and we thought they probably needed a break.
JM: [Chuckles] Yes they have been contacting me quite often recently.
BS: They sure have. And in a year in which the courts declared in no uncertaian terms that the government you led conspired to defraud the country of millions of euros, we’re frankly incredulous that they’re asking you about your favourite film of the year.
JM: I mean I wouldn’t put it like that. If anything the court exonerated me from…
BS: Oh give it a rest will you? You’re not chatting with some zoomer intern fresh out of Uni now, boy. Or your poodle Manuel Cuschieri. It’s time you told the truth.
JM: Hey don’t be mean to Lovin. They’re the only news organisation that doesn’t call me ‘disgraced’. You know how hurtful that is? Anyway, I can see where this is going. I’ll see myself out.
BS: Oh really? We’ll see about that…
JM: What the…
BS: Those restraints are quite tight aren’t they? Even in this dim light, I’m surprised you didn’t recognise the chair you were sitting on was the one used by Alex Dalli to torture inmates when he was prison director.
JM: This is outrageous. John! Help!
BS: Yell all you like – your bodyguard is indisposed right now. Seems the tea I gave him made him a little drowsy.
JM: You’ll never get away with this.
BS: Actually, it’s you who won’t be getting away this time, you slippery fucker. I’m going to keep you here until you confess to everything. Egrant, Electrogas, Vitals, Accutor, Montenegro, the lot.
JM: Never!
BS: I thought you’d say that. Luckily, I have ways of making you talk. See this? It’s a collection of poetry written by Peppi Azzopardi. Would you like me to read you some?
JM: You monster!
BS: The first one is called ‘Il-Fetu’.
JM: For the love of God, please don’t.
BS: “Jiena fetu, m’għandix tort, imma jridu jagħmluli abort…”
JM: Make it stop!
BS: Not until you come clean.
Bis-Serjetà’s Mum: Karl honey, do you want onion on your ħobża? Oh, I didn’t realise you had company.
BS: Mum! I’m trying to do serious journalism!
BSM: Well even serious journalists shouldn’t skip lunch, sweetheart. Is that Joseph Muscat? And why have you got him restrained?
JM: Mrs Stennienibarra, please tell your son to release me. I won’t report him to the police, just so long as he asks me about my New Year’s resolutions and nothing more than that.
BS: Shut up you.
BSM: Karl you can’t keep him here.
JM: It’s to learn to live in the moment, if you’re interested.
BS: The only thing I’m interested in is that you finally face justice.
BSM: Karl, what did I say when those scary Santa Venera festa people came to the house after you wrote mean things about their statue?
BS: But it had Covid!
BSM: I said you’d better not cause any more trouble or I’d unplug your website. Now, let him go.
BS: Urgh, alright fine.
JM: Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to catch. Dubai is so beautiful at this time of year.
BS: I’m sure it is.
JM: Don’t you want to ask me what my favourite airplane snack is?
BS: Fuck off.
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