Sindi has asked to host a baby shower for her friend, Zama, at Mandla’s flat. Mandla is out buying meat and charcoal to braai for the ladies. He is at a petrol station when he gets a call from Bongani.

“Bongs!” Mandla answers.

“Ola, Mindlos. Where are you?”

“I’m on the way to the flat. Will be there in five minutes,” says Mandla. 

“Cool. I’ll swing by. Be there in an hour’s time,” says Bongani.

Mandla is held up at a roadblock for some time. When he gets to the his flat, he finds Bongani’s car parked on the road. He is taking the meat and the charcoal out of the boot of his car when he realises that Bongani’s henchmen are sitting in their car across the road. Mandla waves at them, greeting them, but they return his greeting with silent, mean frowns.

Inside his flat, he finds Bongani sitting on the couch, sipping 15-year-old Johnnie Walker Green Label whisky straight from the bottle. The ladies have all congregated in the kitchen. They glance at Bongani suspiciously. Mandla can feel tension in the air as soon as he enters his flat.

“Mindlos!” Bongani bellows.

“Hey Bongs,” says Mandla. 

He can smell the alcohol-breath exuded by Bongani well before he steps in the lounge. 

“What’s up, Bongs?”

“You tell me what’s up? I have hardly seen you lately! You don’t introduce me to your live-in girlfriend. I only find out by visiting you and seeing all sorts of women’s cosmetics in your bathroom that you have a serious girlfriend. Aren’t we friends any more?” asks Bongani.

He looks at Mandla with a suspicious red-eyed look. Mandla senses that Bongani has been on a cocaine binge for a few days.

“Come on, Bongs. Let’s talk outside,” says Mandla.

“No, no, no. I want to enjoy the festivities. I want to watch you play house. I want to scream with the woman of the moment when she opens her presents. I want to enjoy your new found Model-C life,” says Bongani. He laughs out loud and takes another swig of the whisky.

Mandla can feel anger welling inside him. He grabs Bongani by the arm, yanking him up from the couch. “Come on, Bongs! Let’s talk outside,” he says.

Bongani laughs mockingly at Mandla. “OK, OK, tough guy. I’m going.”

Anger multiplies in Mandla because as Bongani staggers, the whisky bottle slips from his hand and spills on the carpet. And as he kneels and fumbles for the bottle, the gun on his waist is visible. The ladies are peering at all of this from the kitchen. They let out a collective gasp. Mandla takes Bongani out of his flat. 

“See you later, ladies!” Bongani shouts before Mandla bangs the door shut.

Mandla can feel his anger multiplying as he pulls Bongani all the way to his car. Bongani’s henchmen have surrounded them in a flash.

“Are you OK, Boss?” asks one of the henchmen.

“I’m fine. Just having a bit of fun with my friend,” says Bongani. He laughs but quickly that laugh turns into a frown as he looks at Mandla’s angry eyes. “It’s good that you are angry, Mandla. I need the angry Mandla back because we need to solve a few problems.”

“What are you talking about? What problems?” 

“There are a few things that don’t make sense, Mindlos. You need to clear them up for me. The books are not balancing. The money we have received is not balancing with the stock and you are the brains of the Scorpion Gang.”

“What!?”

“Yes. We are going right now,” says Bongani.

“I’m doing no such thing. I’ll come look at the books later tonight. I have guests,” says Mandla.

“Enough of this Model-C bullshit, Mindlos! We are leaving right now! I’m not asking you, I’m telling you!” says Bongani.

Mandla looks around and sees the circle of henchmen closing in on him. They have their hands on their waists, clutching at their pistols.

“Fine. Let me get my car keys,” says Mandla.

“No! Get in my car!” says Bongani.

“I’m doing no such thing. I’m going in my car. I want to drive back here as soon as I clear this thing up!”

“OK, Mindlos,” says Bongani.

Mandla hurries back to his flat. He grabs the car keys. Sindi grabs his arm as he hurries out the door.

“What’s going on, babe?” 

He can see the worry in her eyes and the anger in his own eyes in his reflection in the lounge mirror. 

He forces a smile and says, “My friend is drunk. I’ll drive him to his place. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“But, Mandla…”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’m coming back,” says Mandla. 

He kisses Sindi and leaves. 

Tell us: What do you think will happen next?