Whilst kleptocrats and demagogues rule the world Australaia can take comfort in having a stable and trusted democracy.
Dear reader, we take up were we left off, our heroes, with the astute guidance of Australia’s bravest and most decorated soldier ever ‘Benny-Boy’ Roberts Smith, toying with the idea of using the Aldis lamp cable as a way of getting off the suspended tramcar and finding escape in the inky black murkiness below. Because as you may recall, Terry who had spent the last sixty years tirelessly maintaining the underground city knew of a building and within it, he hinted in the strongest possible terms that inside this building perhaps, lay the remote possibility of their salvation.
Immersed in what had now become a full-blown argument, they watched as Sophie and Dutto, each with their own power-play to become Australia’s most powerful and richest individuals battled it out for the final word. And our heroes fearing the worst knew that if the final word was reached, they would be in for the final curtain.
Where corporations are governed by notions of fair play and decency
Intently they could hear the row, in the darkness, in the enormous underground chamber, the noise was distinct, there was no interference, cept the furious workings of Benny-boys hands as he played out the chord from the Aldis lamp and counting in whispers counted off the metres as it descended inch by inch metre by metre down, down, down into the stygian inkiness.
“You’re a fucken Queensland copper and you talk of principle’
‘Yeah but at least I don’t have an old law professor locked up in my back shed’!
‘How dare you say that! He chose to live in the chook shed on the back paddock!!!
‘Yeah right, is that why your old man got lifted into a safe senate seat for service to chook-sheds and retired professors’?
where our elected politicans are in touch with the popular sentiment of the electorate
‘You’re just jealous cos you lost the ballot to Scomo’.
Jealous! Any ballot you’ve stood in, the public walk and then run as fast as they fucken can, the other way. You’re un-electable. Because not only are you fat, ugly and sociopathic, you’re just at the end of the day un- likeable’!!
With that Sophie kicked the tyres of the Special Response Vehicle.
‘You fucken baldy CxxT’! She screamed, ‘You Queenslanders are always so bloody righteous and so bloody ambitious’!,
From within the armoured vehicle:’ Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle’…
‘Get fucked’!
Terry and our heroes blushed at the coarse language, not since Jeff’s call to Andrew Peacock had they heard such profanity. ‘For a lady clearly’ Ces whispered, ‘she’s not a nice girl’.
“Yeah” Quent whispered back, “like Grace, they don’t know how to be polite and lady- like’.
‘Yeah, like at the fat lady’s arms’,
Blokes who understand women and where they belong and can play a good tune on the ukulele
We chuckled at Benny’s ill- timed reference to Australia’s finest at war with the Afghani juggernaut, and knew that in good time the complete and utter disaster that is Afghanistan will go down in Australian folklore as “ our finest hour”. But for now, we just held on…and then with an audible shriek, we could hear, ‘ Fuck you Dutto, i’ll bring down you , the government and everyone in it , and when I mean business I mean business’!
Sophie turned and made her way back to the tramcar fuming. We could hear her jack boots clack clack clacking along the duckboard suspended between the tracks. Something had gone terribly wrong. They’d clearly arrived at an impasse. Clearly Dutto was not prepared to roll over for Sophie who was in league with Xi as she had investments, linked via the Cayman Islands with Angus and wanted a guarantee from Xi that they’d be respected. No guarantee was forthcoming.
On that issue , as always a Queenslander was not for budging.
Blokes who can draw a line in the sand
Sophie was angry, her MP40 useless against the Public Order Response Vehicle, she sprayed the armour plate and the bullets glanced harmlessly off. From within, the sound of Dutto’s Shrek- like laughter. , ‘Your bullets can’t harm me Sophie, it’s like being hit over the head with a sack of wet mice’.
Swearing at the top of her voice, she retaliated. ‘Say what you like Peter, but I’ll have the last say, you can tell Angus that my loyalty is with Xi, and you cant touch me’!!!
From within the armour plated vehicle, they could hear Dutto guffaw, ‘jeez Sophe gonna make me’? You and who’s fucken army!!, not even Gina would help ya cos at the end of the day it’s not your power, your graft, your position as a fair fucken work commissioner, but the fact that at the end of the day you’re too fucken ugly to get a gig anywhere else than the bloke that runs China. And as far Im concerned that don’t mean NUFFINK’!
blokes you can trust on principle
And for a final insult, he added: ‘you might be a Fair-Work Commissar, but there’s nothing fair in love and war, didn’t the old law professor cooped up in your shed in the back paddock tell you that’?
With that Sophie emptied the cartridge of her MP 40, the bullets uselessly slapping the side of the vehicle as she stormed back towards us. Se was an inferno of rage and it was sadly, (dear reader) heading our way.
Mates know how to get things done, sticking together…and abiding by principle.
Will this be too hot for our heroes? Has Sophie lit the fuse and started the conflagration? Has this got anything to do with Vladmir’s peace keeping in Urkraine? Will it be chicken Kiev all round? Find out in the next invasive episode, ‘Chicken? Kiev’, or, “For the high Rollers it’s Port-Xi or Bust’!