Continued from the previous blog….

As promised we received the money in two plain envelopes. 

The envelopes were marked in clear print, “Clean Energy Fund” and within each envelope, (they were big envelopes) we found cleanly and efficiiently bundled two hundred and fifty million dollars. At first we thought, there must be some mistake, but when we rang the Minister for Energy, his department, the secretary, the cleaner, no one had any knowledge of the money. 

Minister for Women, Kelly O Dwyer. Sporting High viz para military prototype safety vest to identify and protect women in Parliament.

So we did what any normal person would do, we bought some very expensive tea rather than the Home Brand stuff we get from the market, and booked ourselves on international flights, to Italy, France, the U.K, Germany and Russia, to do a fact finding tour. A tour we thought was essential just to see what other countries do with women in politics.  Booked it all first class, cos fact finding is hard case stuff, and just before leaving, we thought a side trip to Canberra, may give us a briefing. A “heads up” as they say, and a strategy for how to spend the half billion which may give the taxpayers “value for money”

Kelly trialling another prototype para military low viz, (camouflage) flak jacket and bullet supressing couch in Liberal Party Bunker annex, IPA Headquarters. Location undisclosed.

WE thought given the staggering drop in participation of females in the party it had to do with external factors. Some strange alchemy at work from outside the party, rather than a toxic environment within the party itself. Because as we saw it, the Liberal party upheld a great tradition of women senators. Doing important things, like upolding the rights of women to do what women do best. Portfolios, in home care, knitting and womens issues. This was our starting point. We asked the party heads, what they knew about womens issues, and were directed to Kelly O Dwyer, Minister for Women. We figured, feeling responible now we had half a billion dollars to spend on resolving this vexed issue, that she would at least give us a strategy from which to divine the truth. To our surprise, she said; “I don’t have any idea about what you should do with the money. As a matter of fact, I have no idea why I’m here. I asked for a job in the catering department and was given Minister for Industrial Relations. I have no experience in this field, but I’m told if I keep wages down, supress fair arbitration, ensure that casual workers get less, and big companies don’t pay tax, I’ve got a job for life. But as for women I haven’t got a clue. Its not core policy’. 

Before we were finished with our tea and biscuits she abruptly showed us the door, and said: ” Gotta go now. Got an important job to do which I must perform every fifteen minutes’, and before we could say “What the’? , she started shouting “unions unions, bloody unions”, and started punching the door and kicking the tasteful marble coffee table with her stilettos. 

Kelly vainly seeks protection by standing close to PM. She is wearing high viz suicide vest just in case she is targeted before PM is, in another unprovoked drive-by shooting.

We were ushered into a hallway, a bit let down, and as we walked down a series of long corridors, we felt we were being watched. It’s an uncanny feeling, but there was this ominous presence, and it made us feel uneasy. Good thing then we had a couple of million stuffed into each pocket, cos Kelly had warned us, that if you’re in a fix in parliament it helps to have deep pockets. We also noticed that there were no politicians, they all seemed to be shut in their offices, just all these shady figures loitering. They seemed poised to snatch any polly who ventured into the corridor. “The corridors of power” Cecil whispered. They also had money bulging from pockets. After some deliberation, we knew they must be lobbysists, the most powerful forces at work in the Australian body politic. 

WE were told not to look directly at them, for the curse would be worse than the curse of Medusa. So glumly we walked on. Not able to shed any light on the Liberal Women conundrum. 

And just as we reached the parliamentary perimeter, with guards dressed in Border Force uniforms. And just as we had our visitor passes, reviewed, scanned and removed, we were tapped on the shoulder.  In shock we turned, It was Peter Dutton. He looked strangely awkward, and before we could say “ambush’, he said, solemly, “ there’s someone who wants to see you”. 

And grimly, like those being led to the executioner, we meekly followed, 

Minister for Fear, Incarceration and Dostoyevsky Peter Dutton, insists we accompany him. He is also trilalling low viz Border Force camoflague Black ops uniform.

To be continued.