Readers have requested a re-print of this years parliamentary revue, “the Brothers Karamazov”
Dear reader we find our heroes in a devilish place, up to their armpits in intrigue when all they wanted was some advice from Crown on footy tipping and a Federal grant for a pie warmer. Things are hotting up, and it aint the pie warmer. Read on….
The very next thing that happened was Mr Whu turned up out of the blue, and from the road we could hear a screech. It was the worlds biggest black Rolls Royce, the grill was gold plated, the tyres made from synthetic platinum and processed einsteinium, (the worlds rarest element) and the number plates ‘FOX YOU’ said it all.
Lindsay, (official water displacement figures have not yet been determined).
It was Australia’s most powerful airport chief, Lindsay (this public beach is mine to cordon) Fox. Lindsay got out of the limo, we could tell as it rose twelve inches higher, almost bouncing into the air. Mr Whu pretended not to notice, and from his pocket he produced a little red book. ‘I hereby proclaim from section 43 of the Public Safety Act that you are in contravention of section 32 of the Hygiene Legislation Ordinance, part 3 section 12. .
“What the eff’!, we both exclaimed; “but you arranged with your mate Eddy and the other fat bloke, (no offence) as Lindsay drew close, ‘and here we are with half a room still full of pokies, no tea lady, no Monte Carlo’s and an electricity bill that has bankrupted us”!
‘Not the way I see it, this place shall be confiscated and the assets sold off by order of the Public Safety Ordinance”.
‘No need to go on’! bellowed Lindsay, “move outta the way! What the little wing-nut headed peck-sniff is telling ya, is that I OWN all of THIS’!! And just to emphasise, he waived a fatty pair of arms in our direction, and to make the point he said; “I also own THAT”! And then he appeared to be pointing to the entire suburb in general. “As a matter of actual fact I FUCKEN OWN EVERYTHING!! “It’s an issue of PUBLIC SAFETY!
“I’ve finished with you Danny Boy, you snivelling little piece of shit’!
And I want you to come along with me, I’ve finished with you Danny-Boy’! You snivelling little piece of SHIT’!. He sneered at Mr Whu, who tugged his comic forelock, ‘you clean up whilst I sort these boys’! He gave us an onion eating wink, way worse than Tony Abbott’s. We were about to do a runner, when a police Public Order Response Unit Van turned up and a dozen paramilitary with flak jackets, sub machine guns, jack-boots, armour and full face vizors, formed a cordon around us. In a flash we were “constrained” and from the outside we could hear Lindsay bellowing: ‘RAISE THE JOINT!, and as for you little Danny boy, NONE OF THIS EVER HAPPENED’!
The cops, just stared at us and held tasers, capsicum and cow-prods at our faces, we daren’t move. ‘We’re fucked’, I whispered to Ces, ‘Yep, Completely K’d’, (he was referring to Witness K) ‘and Assanged’! The cops laughed, at least they had a sense of humour. A loud banging on the roof of the van, and the familiar booming voice of the trucking magnate, ‘Take em away boys, I’ll meet you on the OTHER SIDE’!
Lindsay is well connected, former P.M’s and (RHS) Intra galactic free trade agreement with first extra terrestrial alien trading bloc. “Jeannie” from the galactic system they call “PRATT”! Earth gravity has distorted her facial features.
The other side? it sounded ominous, we knew that Mr Whu and Lindsay were close, but this was a little too close for comfort. We felt that ever since we bumped into Eddy with an offer that was too good to be true, our lives had taken a downward trajectory, Then there was Andrew, who arrived with Jamie, looking shadier than Mick Gatto’s boys and the feeling that we were being slotted, to be used as prawns in some hideously corrupt pan-national cover up…WE despaired, but our problems had only just begun.
As the van screeched to a halt, and the cops pushed us onto the pavement, the dust settled, and we could feel the horror, for there, in blinding white light, smelling of Harpic and Glen 20 we saw our end. The gleaming portals of an obscenely drab, ugly, and austere building, the sign adorning in lurid green, a mocking replay of ‘Arbeit macht Frei’ on the portal of Auschwitz if ever you saw one, it boomed, ‘HOLIDAY INN’!!
Lindsay grabbed the Portsea beach for the public good and has a helicopter on standby, (courtesy of the Coles Myer shareholders) to do ” Shark-Patrol’!
What will happen to our less than dynamic duo? Will they be doomed to rot inside a corona affected sump, way worse than the Black Hole of Calcutta? Or will they just be deep cleansed and made whiter than white? Stay tuned for our next episode “ A bleach of confidence” or “ Keep trucking, till you own EVERYTHING’!