I wrote this yesterday:

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My advice for the South African delegation meeting with the unhinged tangerine cockwomble in Washington DC? That each of them ingest some sort of narcotic exactly 14 minutes before the sit-down. It’s almost certain that Trump and his people will be off their faces and we’re at enough of a disadvantage as it is. We can’t afford to let sobriety handicap us even further. Every world leader is on some kind of drug. It’s the only way to explain what’s happening right now.

Take Benjamin Netanyahu. My guess is that he’s on phencyclidine. PCP, also known as angel dust among aficionados, causes psychotic behaviour and tricks your brain into thinking you’re invincible. In extreme cases, it makes you believe you can destroy an entire city and its people without any consequences.

Even the new pope is on drugs. Probably nothing too wild. Definitely nothing mind-altering. It’s enough of a trip to be told you’re God’s representative on earth and that 1.4 billion people won’t use birth control until you say it’s okay. If I was him, I’d be on some kind of tranquiliser. Xanax, maybe.

Back to the meeting in Washington. The American delegation will be relying heavily on cocaine. I’d hope they would be more creative, but they won’t. These are old school hustlers using old school drugs. Everyone in America who appears on camera has Bolivian marching powder in their bloodstream. It is humanly impossible to be that bright-eyed and talk that fast without a stimulant boosting your central nervous systems. Don’t believe me? Watch one of CNN’s talk shows with six people on the panel. Those who did one line instead of five barely get a word in. I can’t even keep up with half of what they’re saying, and I’ve been speaking English since I was nine days old.

Ramaphosa’s standard 24 words a minute might do for one of his increasingly rare televised appearances, but it’s no match for the Americans’ machine gun delivery of 230 words p/m.

Cyril, if you’re reading this and the bell for the first round hasn’t rung, get your handlanger to rush to the nearest inner city slum and purloin a baggie of amphetamines. It doesn’t have to be A-grade coke. In fact, I’d advise against it. Your cerebral cortex is unaccustomed to accelerants of any kind. But you do need to pick up the pace. Show them that you’re awake. The big shit-eating grin, obsequious hand-wringing and coy under-the-eyelashes looks ain’t gonna cut it. These people won’t fall for the Uncle Tom routine. You’ll need to speak up and speak fast. You don’t seem the type to smoke, snort or inject anything, so I recommend dexedrine. It comes in pill form and is commonly used to treat ADHD. While you’re certainly not hyperactive, you’re clearly attention-deficit. This is, of course, not a clinical diagnosis but is rather based on the fact that you struggle to focus on things – like fixing the country.

This leaves the rest of our delegation. Ronald Lamola. Our Minister of International Relations will hopefully wear dark glasses and say nothing at all. He needs to come across as a hitman from Bushbuckridge. I’d recommend a powerful neuroleptic. Thorazine should do the trick. If he starts drooling, so much the better.

Khumbudzo Ntshavheni is the Minister in the Presidency, whatever that means. I don’t know why she’s included in the team. Perhaps the hope is that Trump will relate to someone equally unlikeable. For her, I’d suggest 5mg of methylenedioxymethamphetamine. It won’t necessarily help our case, but she strikes me as someone who could use a little ecstasy in her life.

Parks Tau of Trade and Industry is key given that Trump and his rabid attack dog Marco Rubio will be threatening us with economic destruction. I’d suggest Tau take something from the psychotropic family. Given that the Americans are hallucinating about a white genocide, I recommend three caps of lysergic acid diethylamide and a violent diatribe about the lizard people of Alabama who are planning to overthrow the world. It’s the only way to out-trip them.

Finally, bringing up the rear is Agriculture Minister John Steenhuisen, our delegation’s secret weapon. South Africa’s last great white hope will be called upon to convince the Americans that their fever dreams aren’t real. That no farmland is being grabbed and there is no wholesale slaughter of Afrikaners. He will need maximum aggression to drive this home. Take Trump by the throat. Sink his teeth into Rubio’s neck. That kind of stuff. I’d urge him to consider a cocktail of substances. Brandy, ketamine, crystal meth and maybe a joint to calm him down when it’s all over.

Good luck, team. You’re going to need it.