Dear reader, we return to our saga, as Sophie, most powerful woman on the front bench of the  Fair Work Commission suffers an AK47 Malfunction. Our heroes Ces and Quent, aided in their last minutes by Australia’s bravest and most decorated soldier ‘Benny-Boy’, Roberts Smith, had given up all hope. And yet like the evil perpetrator who so shamelessly defiled our tea lady Mrs Culthorpe in the nations Parliament we are no closer to determining the all embracing reason why? 

What has our fate got to do with climate policy, Clean coal, officially endorsed corruption and the working of the Fair Work Commission?

Dunno, but somehow or other Sophie and her commander the man they call ‘Angus’ are up to their necks in it, and determined that we are liquidated in order to preserve their integrity? 

Integrity you say? Well, it’s a nuance that some still believe in,  read on for more filth, and corruption…

Sophie just stood in front of us, working the trigger, and then Ben realised something, this was indeed the AK he’d used at Tarren Kwot for the VC and he seized his chance. Leaping from his spot he rugby tackled Sophie to the ground, they were lost neath a swirling cloud of dust. We could hear Benny exclaim ‘Ouch’ and ‘Nyaaaaaah’, as Sophie in clear abrogation of Queensberry’s Rules, kicked, punched, bit and kneed Benny in the testimonials. She was a real street fighting pugilist, and in her capacity as Fair Work Commissioner she was happy to throw out the rule- book if it gave her an edge.  But with astute training, Benny had her tied up, and when the dust settled, we espied Sophie, looking all the world like a deflated bean bag, or an over- kicked Sherrin trussed up with electrical tape in the corner. 

Job Done, Benny looked at us self satisfyingly, always cary a bit of spare tape. 

‘But but but. 

Why didn’t the gun go off’?… 

“Oh the gun’, benny exclaimed; as soon as she pulled the trigger I knew it was the same, 

The same what? 

The dummy gun I put on all the Afghani’s to get the V.C?

It was never gonna work, cos as any Fair Work Commissioner will tell you even on the field of valour one requires a safe work environment and one must avoid the golden rule. 

What’s that?

Avoid inappropriate touching’. 

With Sophie tousled and bound in the corner had we gone a step to far? Is inappropriate touching appropriate for a person of Sophies calibre?

We looked at the ball of electrical tape, marvelling at Benny’s skill in trussing her up, and from within we could hear he muffled broadside of abusive epithets, (we apologise to any of our readers who are sensitive and might be offended by such language), as Sophie when angered was liable to make a bullocky blush, or a trooper squirm. Indeed such a torrent of coarse mouthed vulgar invective even made Benny-Boy squirm to the extent that he wandered over, held her pudgy face (once again we apologise to our readers for this overt description but in the interests of journalistic integrity we must publish the facts and allow you informed and educated to draw your own inferences), he held her pudgy face with his one giant hand, and pulled out a roll of extra large gaffer tape. To whit,  her jaw, and entire speaking apparatus were well and truly taped. For his effort she managed to lash out a swift kick to his shins and we marvelled at how he just continued to methodically reinforce the gag without suffering undue discomfort.  Benny, once our jailer, was now our saviour. We knew that whatever happened from hereon, Benny would be by our side. A feeling of awkward, but tremendously deep satisfaction. 

‘Bugger me’! Ces opined, we really are safe at last. What are we gonna do next’? 

I looked at Sophie, felt the security and alacrity of Australia’s finest in restraining Sophie and sighed, ‘lets just make our departure and return to our normal lives’. 

‘Normal lives’? Ces interjected, , after all of this, what’s gonna be normal’? 

Too effing right’, being a man of few words Ben made sure he used every one of them to effect, ‘Normal for me, is digging usb’s in me garden burying usb’s, dissing me mates, and sucking up to Kerry Stokes and that little squirt Brendan Nelson. I’m jack of all of it, and if I can come along with youse, perhaps I can help youse do newspaper deliveries or mail runs’.

We both smiled, Benny deep down had a heart of gold, and it was ironic that Sophie, the toughest nut in the nut- farm  had bought it out in him. 

‘Benny, we don’t do newspapers anymore, but I tell ya, if you’re wiling to join us, we’ll forget about what you did in Afghanistan, for their own good, and just focus on getting you back on the lecture circuit an talking to school kiddies about how you did wonderful things in far away countries to keep Australia safe. Yeah, and in like the cricket test team, show a bit of integrity in the face of adversity’. 

Benny laughed, ‘ya mean this’? And he pulled form his back pocket another piece of yellow sandpaper. Jeez we pissed ourselves, Benny always had something up his sleeve and considering…… he was a great bloke to be around with. 

But whatta bout this?

He pointed to the writhing ball of anger. 

‘Sophe? 

Can’t we just leave her here’?

What? And let her just kark it? 

She may be more dangerous than a blue ringed octopus but she’s got some rights even, he paused, even if she is a Fair Work Commissioner’.

We paused, Benny had a point. We couldn’t just leave her there. 

Yet it was tempting to just quietly piss off. 

What will our heroes do? Will compassion override their sense of survival? Has it come to this? 

Find out in our next tantalising episode, ‘Sophie bound to be gagged’, or ‘Fair work and no play makes a dull Commissioner’!