This episode is sponsored by the former P.M Mr Scott Morrison and the Institute of Applied Integrity (Happy Clappers). We were intending on offering you an exclusive interview with the former P.M Mr Scott Morrison who really is the full bottle on secrecy and subterfuge in the national interest. But our interview has wisely been re- scheduled in the interests of transparency and due diligence. Either of which the former PM informs us he cannot recall.
We return to our saga, our heroes, incredibly still alive, and their fate dependent on none other than Brendan Nelson.
It seems strange that a man who controls the beating heart of Anzackery Inc. Sacred to generations of Australians should find himself compromised by VC’s for cash and the upsetting circumstances of Gina’s anticipated peerage. But even Prince Charles would tell you that bags of cash are the only currency that counts these days for those who did ‘Derring-Do’. ‘Dam Busters’, ‘Retching for the sky’, or even just knocking off a few Afghani’s in a village somewhere. Bravery alone is not enough to guarantee the highest awards, and Gina’s suitcases of real gold ingots are the currency of preference these days. Shocked to the core by the vice, the corruption and greed at the heart of the house of Windsor our trio find themselves on a knife’s edge, and the knife is blunter than a baseball bat. With none other than Brendan Nelson, piloting the rapide… to a destination somewhere, we return to our saga, at about fifteen thousand feet which as high as the rapide will ever get.
‘Look here Brendan, we don’t care what happens to you after you’ve dropped us off, so just concentrate on flying this thing and don’t pull any stunts’.
the rapide, anything but….
It seemed curious, but all three of us were crowded into the cockpit, with Ces levelling the service revolver at the pilot. Terry handing out another pack of Camels, and Brendan pointing to the ‘no smoking sign’. ‘Listen Brenny Boy, smoking aint gonna kill us, but if you don’t get us sufficiently far away, we’re all gonna kark it, so I suggest you fly us as far as we can go’. Brendan pointed to the fuel gauge, “There’s only enough fuel to get us back to Barnaby Downs, and when we do get back Gina will wanna know if I’ve knocked youse off, so I can put you down somewhere in between, or you can try your luck after I land. Either way, you got Hobson’s or Buckleys’.
The trio wracked their brains to find a way out, with the rapide low on fuel it was unlikely they’d get anywhere near civilisation and must die of thirst and heat in the inhospitable wasteland of the outback. If they returned to Barnaby Downs they’d be surely slotted by Gina and her sidekick Nev. And even if they did negotiate, they knew that Cliffy and Kerry would stop at nothing to have em knocked off. These were high stakes, and our trio were no further out of the frying pan than being fried.
‘What’s that’? Quent pointed to the dull flame in the distance. ‘That’s the gas exploration rig I pointed to on the way over’! Brendan held the stick firmly whilst banking slightly to give us a better view. ‘That’ll do, land there’!
‘Glorious Anzacs, legends or Gods exhibition”
‘But, but’ Brendan hesitated. ‘But be buggered Brenny Boy, we wanna be dropped off there, cos there’s a chance we might hitch a lift outta here. Your job is to convince Gina and Nev that you’ve knocked us off, and if you don’t you might get a visit from, Julian and Benny Boy’. With the thought of his anti-heroes turning up out of the blue at a distinguished parade, or worse still the opening of the anticipated, ‘Glorious Anzacs, legends or Gods exhibition” he knew that the risk was worth taking. Drop the trio off, pretend they’re dead, and like the V.C’s for cash scandal or ingots to the house of Windsor, pretend it never happened.
The rapide, circled and descended like a large-ish Wedge tailed eagle that hadn’t been shot at or poisoned by an irate and anti naturalist farmer, and with barely metres to spare pulled up just beside the corrugated iron shed that proclaimed itself as ‘Deep well # 45, test rig’. Our heroes jumped out and noticed the pair of land cruisers sitting in one corner, and to the side a tender with the words ‘FUEL’ painted on the side. ‘This’ll do! Allright Brenny, no funny business, return to Barnaby, tell em the job has been done, you’ve got rid of us, and as far as I can say, you are well and truly rid of us. Have a nice life running the AWM and enjoying all those high-level junkets, but for us, the journey is over’. Brendan gave us a wry smile and almost looked both satisfied and relieved.
Former PM searching for integrity and transparency
‘Be seeing ya then’, we all waved, and Terry offered him a camel for old- times sake..
With barely a nod, Brendan climbed aboard the rapide, “ Oh I almost forgot, and Ces emptied the cartridges from the service revolver, you’d better have this back, tell Gina and Nev you only used a bullet each, that’ll be a source of great comfort to them and say the jobs done. Cos if you don’t you know, it goes without saying you’d be in more trouble than Bennny- Boy and Julian combined.. Brendan nodded, and the rapide’s engines roared back into life, the plane taxied briefly and was off.
‘Well that’s the end of that. I think we’re in a much better position and from hereon, it’s a journey into the future’. They all laughed, thinking how absurd their situation was, and yet, relished the taste of freedom. Freedom being a concept even more profound than anything Clive Palmer had said during the most recent federal election.
Will our heroes prevail? Can they endure another chapter of woe? Will this become like climate another existential crisis? Find out in our next episode; ‘The flame of fate flickers fretfully’, or ‘Gas Gas, an extasy of energy policy fumbling’’..