“No, he got what he well and truly fuckin’ deserved”, said Emmjay.

“That’s a bit harsh”, Jules replied. “I mean, they took his Merc off him and it wasn’t even a divorce settlement”.

“ I reckon he’s had it comin’ for ages”, said Emmjay “the price you pay for stepping on the toes of not just anybody, but the bloody Prime Minister”

Jules paused for a pull on his lemon lime and bitters, reflecting that indeed this bloke had been stirring the shit just a tad too vigorously for ages.  “Still, I think he reflects the views of many Australians”.

“Many white anglo rednecks, you mean.  Fuckin’ rednecks that he personally created by soaking otherwise decent folk in bile every day on the radio”, said Emmjay taking Jules’ bait hook line and sinker.

“Not all of them are Anglos” said Manne.  “Some of them are, you know, Italians, Greeks, Lebs and stuff”.

“Anyone without a decent edumacation” gets into the club” said Hung.

A lone figure shuffled in through the side door and assumed the position at the far end of the bar.

“Mention his name and he appears”, thought Merv, but before he could speak, Emmjay returned to his theme du jour, failing to notice the recent arrival.

“I still think the bastard got what he deserved… it’s just not on to diss some poor bugger who’s lost his pappy” said Emmjay.

“Her pappy”, said Helvi.

“Yes, of course, Her pappy.  The bloody Prime Minister’s pappy.  And more to the point, the bloke in question was more than just a decent chap, he was a bloody saint, helping out the troubled folk of Adelaide”.

Merv cleared his throat.

“I heard that ALL the sponsors have pulled out of his gigs” said Big M. “Or not exactly, the radio station has caused a ‘pause in advertising’ to allow the offended businesses to get over the cyber bullying campaign that Gez and Emmjay have been supporting”.

“That’s poop!” said Emmjay.  “They’re waiting for it to all blow over and those do-gooder lefty basket weaving Balmain types to wander off and find some other gay whales’ landrights cause to trumpet”.

Merv stirred up a Pimms for the lone figure at the far end of the bar.

“What kind of poofter drink is that ?” speculated Hung. “It could be a pink drink, but there’s no umbrella, so it’s definitely not a Pig’s Arms special”.

Merv coughed again, with special emphasis and proceeded in a northerly direction along the bar, noted Foodge.

By this time, the more astute patrons of the Pig’s Arms had noticed the lone, stoutly-built and slightly care-worn figure with the off-grey complexion at the northern extremity (or as Waz called it, ‘the cathedral end’) of the bar.

Emmjay went on.  “I mean who really knows what this Faustian lump really thinks.  He’s become a parody of himself.  Always trying to outdo the last outrage he’s foisted on his radio audience of retards, dropkicks, pillow-biters, Nazis, sheep-botherers, paedos, Liberal-voters, tax-dodgers, snake-oil merchants and miscellaneous fuckwits.”

“More to the point” said Jules, handing Emmjay another can of petrol to throw on the fire, “He still gets to keep his job, despite everything, because he bloody well owns a chunk of the station, bought with his wad of cash for comments”.

“That’s right !” said Emmjay. “But at least this time, he’s providing a bit of competition to the ABC in the advertising-free, but still crap end of the media spectrum.”

‘Well, if we can get advertising-free crap for free, I want my eight cents back”, said Big.

The patrons were becoming increasingly aware of the rising tide of sobbing from the cathedral end.  The tide was going out on the Pimms and coming in on the cheeks of the lone slumping figure.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake” said Emmjay, wheeling on his stool and confronting the distraught figure.

“Maaate” he said to the pink galah, at the same time throwing Merv and Jules a look like a man who was about to pay them back in spades for setting him up.

“Tough gig, sport.  The rough taste of Julius Marlows on the palate.  A terrible price to pay for a tiny slip of the tongue amongst mates”. said Emmjay.  “I know, I’ve been there and done that myself.  I have said harsh things at inappropriate times.  But you know what, sport ?  I’ve never made a living out of it.  And when I said I was sorry, I actually meant it.”

“Come on tiger, finish the drink and I’ll give you a lift home in the Zephyr.  It’s time for you to take it like a man”.