Intro….

Its only several weeks until Christmas, and we know as you stuff yourselves with grog and rich food, you should spare a thought for those in desperate need. Show compassion for those less fortunate.

Prince Andrew has been cut adrift, spare a thought for poor ol Prince Andrew when you’re tucking into your Christmas Pudding.

Prince Harry and Meghan have been cut off from the royal family, ‘the Firm’ and will have to rely on their wits just in order to put food on the table. It’s an unstable table and it complains bitterly about having to shoulder the burden of inherited wealth, privilege and alleged racism. We know there is no such thing in the royal family, they are chosen by GOD to lead and God as we all know is an old bearded white man, so there’s nothing to see here. And we also know that the Liberal Coalition is rent by back-stabbing, in-fighting and corruption. Good to see an age-old tradition keeping faith with its core belief system.

Elsewhere the world is a nasty place, but none nastier than that of our hapless trio who have endured more than a parliamentary intern, and found themselves back where they started, about top have their reckoning served cold by none other than Australia’s second most powerful (‘is that a law professor in your back paddock’?) Sophie, ‘I have the numbers’; Sophie, ‘the cards are always marked in my favour’; Sophie, ‘and I always get what I want’, Mirabella.

 

Will they cone through this time or will Sophie, unelectable, un-lady like and unwatchable pull it off and siphon Ginas Gold destined to the Firm in exchange for a peerage into her own designer handbag. 

 

Diamond’s are forever, but designer clothing is only for the anointed, 

 

we return to where we left off…. perilously poised as we say…  read on….

 

Sophie declared her interest in Ginas’ gold and the right she had to be taxpayer funded in order to uphold her privilege, lifestyle and dignity as a member of the Fair Work Commission.

‘For your information, I’m not only a bitch, but you’re looking at the next most powerful woman in Australia after Gina, and after I’ve finished with her, she’ll be yesterday’s fish n chip paper’.  

 ‘But….. but’, Ces stammered out the words, ‘what about Dutto, have you knocked him off’?

Nup, I’ve put him a place where he can do no harm.  Where he can’t be heard, and where no one will ever listen to him’!

‘What’s that’? Ces expostulated, “A prison?  A Devils Island? The Don Dale Detention Centre’?  

Sophie scoffed, ‘Worse and less obvious than any of em, he’s installed courtesy ‘MOI’ as the head of the Parliamentary Liberal Party’.

We all laughed; she had a point. From here on Dutto would be invisible.  “And I told him’, she clearly relished the power, ‘that if he was a good boy, I wouldn’t let on about his crab claw deformity and the fact that he represented the vast bulk of Queensland politicians as undercover half human victims of the nuclear testing of central Australia in the fifties and sixties’. And for the privilege he’s gonna play along, and this’ll make yer laugh I’ve got Angus onto it to make sure that as far as Dutto is concerned, we’ve put the lid on him. There’ll be no more trouble from that quarter.  he’ll be Jam-Landing in no man’s land till the cows come home. That’s why I have Angus in my pocket. He knows not only how not to get things done but divert whatever it was into OUR Cayman Islands Fund. For the good of the country’. 

It didn’t sound right, but the way Sophie said it, with such conviction it seemed almost plausible. That’s why we were glad she was on the Bench of the Fair Work Commission to protect business from wage enterprise and fairness, someone had to do it.

 ‘Which gets me onto the business of the day’! Sophie deftly struck a match on the heel of her jackboot and lit up another Soberani, ‘to got to the point before I waste youse. Where’s the GOLD’? 

‘Or to be ladylike’, she made a sneering gesture in the direction of the sign on the edge of the oil rig, ‘to be lady like, give me THE FUCKEN GOLD!! 

 You have one minute to give me the gold, or’….. We could hear the click of the AK 47, ‘ you’ll be getting a taste of this gift from my dear friends in Russia’. 

 She laughed again, ‘hhahahah’ more maniacally than ever. ‘Cos Vadimir, and me mates in Moscow have an each way bet that whatever happens in Ukraine, in the outback, or’ she scoffed ‘Windsor Castle we’ll come out on top.  Ha ha ha aha, she laughed possessed with this inner lunacy, a terrifying delusional laugh of self-belief and power over everything. She composed herself and continued with her soliloquy.

‘But I’m afraid for you lot, you’re destined’, she gestured with the muzzle of the gun, ‘you lot are gonna be somewhere a bit lower than that.  Somewhere about six feet below where i’m standing. 

 Give me the gold’.  

 

We looked at Sophie,

 

She sneered at us, one pudgy bejeweled figure on the stock of the AK 47, the other pulling the Sobrani held by an extender, whilst she released the safety catch. All of this skillfully done whilst she let out three perfect smoke rings into the sparkling blue- ness of the central Australian sky. We had to hand it to her, she was classless, and indestructible.

‘Well then boys by my reckoning you’ve got about five seconds left, just tell me, you might live if you tell me, it can’t be that hard to choose between life and death, can it’?

We all thought, ‘what qualification could there be’? Life was hard, and death a sort of reprieve, and in the end, it was a hard one, either way you are stuffed, but in the stuffing somewhere hidden deep down lay the truth.

‘One last time boys!  Another perfect smoke ring; ‘tell me, just tell me, where the Fucken GOLD IS’!

 CAN OUR HEROES FIND THE GOLD?  

Will the gold deliver them from evil?  

Can they tell Sophie that the gold is just dangling above her head, cleverly painted over as a counterweight to the drill rig?  

 Find out in our next instalment, ‘Picnic at Dangling Block’! or

‘From Russia (via Sophie) without much love’.