How about this for an advert placed in Palermo’s weekly freebie newspaper Omert (I’ve had a translation of the text into English-ish made).
“Signori... including capos, under-capos and consigliori... Have you ever wanted to get away from it all? Take a trip away from senseless murder and mayhem? Put down roots in somewhere as laid back as Sicily and just around the corner?
“Well then, come to sunny Malta for a relaxing and trouble-free getaway. No more restaurant shootouts; don’t end up with more holes in you than a colander; why give the Camorra and ’Ndrangheta extra target practice? Settle in Buġibba, a home away from home for every discerning Sicilian Mafiosi.
“Cosier than Catania... prettier (and safer) than Palermo... we even have a 12-month hunting open season on anything and everything. We – like you – realise that tradition is much more important than the law... right?
“So come and join friends and family in the laissez-faire atmosphere of little Sicily, aka Malta. Meet up with like-minded folk and have the time of your life... however short that may be.”
• Meanwhile, in an interrogation suite not a million miles from the centre of Brussels, a Maltese gent is enduring several hours of rigorous and extensive cross-examination:
“So tell me Mr er... how do you stand on spring hunting?”
“I’m dead against it, your honour... totally anti... honest.”
“You don’t have to call me your honour... Sir will do just fine. What do you do personally to safeguard the environment?”
“Ooh, where do I start? Lemme see... well, I separate out all my garbage into... um... well, you know: recyclable stuff like um... stuff that can be recycled and stuff that, um... can’t... er... sir. ”
“Yeees. So tell us: Where do you stand on smoking in public places?
“Oh totally against it, filthy habit... yeugh!”
“Following on from that, could we also have your opinion on snus?”
“Absolutely essential; especially after a long heavy business lunch. I always make time for a snooze. In Malta we call it a siesta... sir.”
Although everything isn’t completely in place, we can still, hopefully, function as the country’s prime law-making body
“Right. Oh and by the way: You don’t have a nifty little bolt hole you can nip off to in the Bahamas do you?”
“Absolutely not! Mine’s a six-bedroom beach house in Barbados.”
• Closer to home... Valletta actually, the members of the House of Representatives (That’s Parliament to you and me) are taking their seats for the very first session of Parliament in the brand new City Gate building. Mr Speaker addresses the combined members of the House:
“As you will see, we are, at long last, finally able to conduct a session in our wonderful new Parliament building.”
(Cries of hear, hear.)
“And although everything isn’t completely in place, we can still, hopefully, function as the country’s prime law-making body in soon to be state-of-the-art surroundings.”
(More – but perhaps less enthusiastic cries of hear, hear.)
“Yes it would have been nice to have had a proper, upholstered Speaker’s chair, but this sturdy orange box will have to suffice for the time being. Just as I’m sure you members... from both sides... would have preferred to sit at decent desks... and on comfortable chairs, but hey... we’re in, so you’ll just have to put up with squatting on the floor for the time being.
“Anyway, you are all much better off than the poor blighters in the strangers’ gallery and the press ‘compound’... they don’t even have tiles to sit on... just dirt!
“At least we’ve got a roof over our heads, which is more than the audience at the Teatru Rjal have got... and with little or no chance of getting one.
“Oh, and before I forget: The guy in charge of fitting the electrics in here has asked me to request you not to fiddle with that spaghetti of wires protruding from the floor. Some of them are associated with the IT installation, but others are – or soon will be – live electrical wires. For the time being we’ll just have to make do with candles and the occasional torch. But hey! We’re in... count your blessings.”