Information
Satire
Having taken steps to solve the problem of the overheating CPU in my Fly On the Wall spyfly device, as outlined in a previous report, your intrepid eyewitness was keen to test the new model. I had managed to further reduce the size of the spyfly from overweight blowfly size to around the size of a mid-sized species of horsefly. An improved miniature cooling fan for the CPU had been installed, incorporating a longer-lasting battery, and I was confident that this would give a longer spying experience.
I therefore once again sent my spyfly, winging its way through the corridors of what passes for power these days, to the office of Grunt Robbingson, the Minister of Sausage Rolls and Finance, as I had grounds to believe that the PM, Justinda Ardeau would be holding an informal chat with him that morning.
Nor was I disappointed as, right on time, the clatter of hooves was heard and Justinda entered the office under the unblinking gaze of the waiting horsefly.
Justinda: Good morning Grunt, how are we this morning? And it is a very good morning, isnāt it!
Grunt: Youāre sounding remarkably on your oats this morning Prime Minister. To what do we owe the bright eyes and bushy tail?
Justinda: You must know Grunt. I really showed him, didnāt I?
Grunt: Oh, I think you must be referring to your recent public dissing of our Aussie cobber, Snot Morrison.
Justinda: Of course, Grunt. (Chortles proudly). Yes, I made him look really silly didnāt I? Caught him offside and out of his crease. He was obviously expecting the usual diplomatic claptrap but I showed him that I, Justinda Ardeau, am not to be trifled with. Corrosive is such a good word, donāt you think? Did you see the look on his face Grunt? Priceless!
Grunt: Do you think itās wise to get offside with a long-time ally and friendly nation, and possibly jeopardise New Zealandersā free access to Australia, Justinda?
Justinda: Grunt, how many times do I have to tell you, the word is jepradise? Youāre a very slow learner Grunt. And the country is Our-tear-roar Grunt. Get used to it. Well, this is part of my strategic plan; you must see that. When our policies start to bite the people on the rump, and they realise that the country is broke and starting to resemble Cuba or Venezuela, what will they do?
Grunt: Well, I suppose that a lot of them will hop on a plane and escā¦ rather, go, to Australia.
Justinda: Heh heh, no they wonāt Grunt. Iām expecting that by then Artearoans will have their access restricted. Iām expecting that itāll be impossible for any Artearoarns to go to Australia. They will be persons non grated by then, and will have to stay here, and continue to enjoy the kindness and wellbeing that I will continue to provide for them.
Grunt: I think you mean persona non grata, the plural of which is personae non gratae, Justinda.
Justinda: Youāre such a pendunt, Grunt.
Grunt: Well, the word is actually pedant, butā¦ Yes well, maybe Australia may get a bit annoyed and deport more of our criminals back here, do you think?
Justinda: One thing at a time Grunt, I havenāt thought that far ahead yet. Now that Iāve got everyone saying what a great leader I am for standing up to the Australians, Iāll just ease off a bit and then pick up some more votes at the 15th of March Commemorations. Iām practising my hugging techniques and holding my breath while I do it, in case anyone has that Kimonovirus thingy.
Grunt: Itās actuallyā¦ well, never mind. I did hear that some of the affected families are not really wanting to commemorate the event, Justinda. Apparently their culture isnāt big on annual rehashing of tragedies.
Justinda, (accompanied by a noticeable stamping of a foot): Well I am, Grunt, and I donāt care what anyone says. Iāve been waiting the last year for this, and I wonāt be denied my opportunidy. I need to hug some people again Grunt. I donāt want my hugging muscles to get soft and flabby, [with a meaningful glance at Gruntās physique] like some people around here. There will be photographers and journalists there, Grunt, and I need to be there for them. I have a new scarf too, that Iām itching to wear; itās such a lovely shade of black. Iām also thinking about hugging some Kimonovirus sufferers. But sick people arenāt nice to be near if you know what I mean. Do you think that hugging their families will be enough?
Grunt: Iām just wondering if itās wise to do too much hugging, Justinda. Voters may just start to think that thereās a smidgeon of opportunism and insincerity if you overdo it.
Justinda: Nonsense Grunt, itās an election year for goodness sake! I need to hug like Iāve never hugged before. I was born to hug, Grunt, itās me! Iām a born hugger, and hug I must, and hug I will. If my arms were longer Iād even practice on you. And by the way, do you think that it would be a good idea to say that I can see this Kimonovirus? I bet Greta hasnāt thought of that yet, and I think it would make her really mad if I said that.
Grunt: No Justinda, just no.
Justinda: (grudgingly): Well ok, but it would be good to get one over that Gretaā¦
Unfortunately, at this point, the spyflyās connection to the remote control went haywire and caused it to launch itself from the wall and fly noisily around the room until it crashed into a large plate of sausage rolls on Gruntās desk. With a string of fearful imprecations, Grunt threw the sausage roll with the embedded spyfly into his waste basket, and at that point, the transmission ceased. Your intrepid eyewitness also imprecated lustily and then set off home to work on a better remote control.
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