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One down and one to go

One down and one to go

Story by Emmjay, Photo borrowed with undying thanks from the Canberra Times.

“But he was one of the better NSW premiers,” said Voice.

“That’s a load of cobblers” said Gez.  “His mates are up to their tits in it”.

“Not a chance of being up to my tits”, said Viv, adjusting her polo neck.

The usual suspects were having a quiet one or fifteen in the main bar of the Pig’s Arms and the ABC was re-running an interview (if you could call it that) of Robbie Robertson repeating over and over and over some horseshit about three cabinet ministers and one premier gone already and three more sitting members to face ICAC after Easter.  And “This has nothing to do with a bottle of wine.  It’s got everything to do with the untrustworthiness of the Liberal Party, blah, blah, blah. And I’m not going to draw any comparisons with anyone on this side of politics who has made a career out of corrupt behaviour and scored top billing at ICRAP”.

Arturo stirred his 1959 Grunge with a finger previously dipped in Granny’s wedges sauce – for that extra bit of piquancy.  He looked piqued, for sure. And he could have easily landed the lead role in Baz Luhr’s upcoming pulp movie ‘The Piquinese Falcon’.  Sinister, didn’t raise his eyes above the rim of the glass when Hung demanded to know where he got the Grunge.

“I don’t remember”, said Arturo.  “Wot, so the label embossed with ‘Compliments of the O’Bad Empire’ is no clue ?” inquired Hung.  Manne emerged from the cellar in the Greiner of time and added helpfully “I remember the Grunge, Mr Demons”.  That was the one that Merv had lying under his bed for a rainy day and he lost it in a poker game with Sir Lunchalot.  I dropped it off at your place on the way home, and you scribbled a note that I delivered to Mr O’Bad.  It said “Not half O’Bad, many thanks, the Rodent”.  “I thought it was very funny, Mr Demons.

“I don’t remember” said Arturo. The juke box was playing the Beatles’ “Baby said she’s drivin’ on the one after 59”.  “That reminds me”, said Manne, “Is (former) Justice Sin Minefield out of the slammer yet ?” “Nope said Gez, it’s getting pretty crowded in the P-wing library out at the Bay”. “Is it true that Ivan Milhat and Peter Snidearse asked to be moved out to avoid the corrosive influence – or more likely the smell of bent politicians ? I mean – even psychopathic killers have standards”.

“Most likely” said H (who was renowned for thinking the best of even the most obviously evil criminals).  “I’m given to believe that they adored their mothers and were kind to sparrows”, she added.

The acoustically-enhanced Pig’s Arms car park gravel gave up its customary crunchiness under the weight of a huge white NSW government Falcon piloted by Chikka Kerryovski and Colin Peters.  Obie, One Barrel Fatobie, rolled out of the back seat onto the deck trailing about a half a canteen of cutlery from the back of his commodious jacket.  The other half of the canteen was in the Kent street lunchroom – lacking almost all the knives.

The entourage entered the side door of the pub and took up the more comfortable seats in the ladies lounge.  “I had a serious memory failure” said Obie One.  “Thank Cripes for that”, said Arturo, who had been wondering whether the Cook’s River was going to give up more flotsam.  More in the shape of a Sinister Demon, he was thinking.

“GEEZUSS”, said Hung, holding a rather tired napkin over his nose.  “Someone must be cleaning out the grease trap in the Ladies Lounge”.  “There IS no grease trap in the Ladies Lounge, said Manne in his ever-helpful way”.

“For some reason I feel like a felafel” said Gez.  “You must be kibbehing me” said Hung  “I’m smelling the overwhelming stench of hypocrisy.  “How can you hommusly think of Foodge at a time like this ?”

“I feel awful”, said Voice.  “Our good ship NSW is without a rudder”.

“Perhaps” said Gez. “But there’s no shortage of ballast”.

Tabouleh continued ……