Dear reader,
Our heroes poised once again, above a yawning abyss. Once again facing imminent death. Once again in a hopeless situation. And once again, with no end in sight. ( if you think this is like the Coalition’s Climate Policy you’re dead right) But being dead is not just the beginning, nor is it the beginning of the end, but the dead end at the very end.
Olden days heroes really knew how to dress
What will happen to our luckless heroes? Are they a Witness K away from oblivion, or just two Biloloea boys caught up in the system? A system that just wants to process em and move on. Find out in this next systemic episode; ‘two steps forward is not necessarily progress’ or…. ‘Cracking and Fracking don’t mix’.
Read on…
Nowadays they tattoo their credentials onto their bare skin
Angus motioned to Benny-Boy, who pushed us closer to the lip of the trapdoor. Our minds were racing, stalling for time. Stalling for time as the clock ticked, as the hourglass emptied, as the last beers were called. But as we stalled we knew we were running out of options, an implacable force, an inexorable will pushed us to the brink. Thinking of anything to stop this descent into Canberra’s raw sewerage, and the oblivion of drowning in politicians poo was terrifying, but none more so than the hulk of Australia’s most decorated soldier ever, leering at us and saying; ‘Can I Can I? Can I? Do it now boss”?
I blurted out; ‘but, you can’t, but you shouldn’t, but you’d better not’, and all Benny did was leeringly wag an index finger at us and say lasciviously, “Are you tryin to say No means No’! And with that he gave us a ‘Fat Lady Arms’ grin, that made us shriek with undistllled TERROR! We were surely in a pickle and clutching at pretzels, straws and any metaphorical small good that came to hand. Anything to delay the inevitable. Thinking of similar scenes in which the victims are saved by the proverbial bell, but also knowing that Angus was not interested in detail a Dorothy Dixer would just shut the door. Thinking hard, thinking of death by compression, death by drowning, death by being forced to eat raw coal or even death by boredom. What would a super hero do? What would an elite member of the SAS do? What would Dr Who do, and finally, ( as we’re dressed in matching Safari Suits purchased at the local op-shop) what would James Bond do?
James Bond? And then the brain-wave hit me like a well aimed rifle grenade into an unarmed Afghani farmers house. We had one last throw of the dice or death. What had we got to lose? I piped up, above the din, the glow and the goo, “ and so it goes for operation Grand- Slam’!!. Thinking in desperation, if it worked for James Bond in ‘Goldfinger’ it might just work again. And to our amazement Angus motioned Benny-Boy to stop.
Nowadays they look mean and scary, no Savile Row suit here
‘Is Operation Grand-Slam that important to you’?
From the shadows and imperceptible pause and then Angus made a curt reply?
“Operation Grand-slam, so you know of Gina’s plan’?
‘Clearly’ , he mused: ‘you are still of some value. Just killing you seems to easy, if you know anything about ‘Operation Grand-Slam’ you still might have some residual use, I’ll see what Gina thinks about this, you know’, he sniggered, ‘in your safari suits, (he laughed uncontrollably, and then gained his composure), Gina might even fancy you’?
What had Angus in store for us? Was a relationship with Gina gonna be worth it? And what use could we possibly be? Our bluff had worked, but just like ‘Clean Coal’ and a GAS LED RECOVERY, did any of it make sense? And would the price to pay be greater than our souls?
We were picked up by the collar again, and held aloft, ‘Aw jeez Boss, when can I have my fun.’?.
‘Later’! Angus roared; ‘when this lot is sorted, and then he qualified, ‘ Once and for all”
But mobile phones are an important accessory, sometimes several will do.
‘Benny, put them in the shuttle and await my orders’,
‘Righto boss,’ and with one impulsive jolt we were picked up and placed in a hopper of sorts,
A small gauge rail truck with a wheeley bin hopper. The hopper was marked, ‘non compliant funding grants,’ It was chock-a-block. Ces and I plonked in together and the lid shut with a plasticular thud above us. ‘It could be worse’ I muttered and Ces could hear a; ‘yup we could be the recipients of the Feds Climate Policy’! We both laughed, cos there was NO such thing as a Federal CLIMATE POLICY!
What will happen in the next politically charged episode? Will our heroes find a way out? Find out in the next instalment, “Gina aint no Loloboridgida”, or “Lang’s Hancock’,