Dear reader, we return to where we left off

SCOMO struts the world stage. ‘Internationally famous in Australia’!

Our heroes stuck below a cavern full of pommy nukes at Maralinga and being led by Angus’s and Xi’s most powerful hench-person, Sophie Mirabella. Can things get worse? You may have to ask a  submariner or a lump of coal for the answer. For coal is black, as black as night. And like our PM, there’s no telling wrong from right. 

We shuffled in single file, Benny’s breathing growing louder and louder as he determined which weapons system to use in a confined space. We appreciated his dilemma as in a tunnel one had to be very careful about concussion. Too much explosive and we’d all be hit, whereas, a bullet could dangerously ricochet and cause untold damage. Unlike the open space and villages of Tarren Kwot it was difficult to negotiate a way through the gloom and more difficult still, (on the off chance), to secure by a prodigious task of confected heroism, pick up another V.C. 

That would be a bar to the V.C.

(Scomo to Scomo) ” just pretend you give a fuck about clmate change, no one else in the Coalition does…. nor does Labor either’!

Could it be done? 

The thought rattled around inside ‘Benny Boys’ head.  That would mean more product endorsement, more lectures to kiddies, not in school rooms, but packed stadia, and perhaps become a managing director, not just of Seven but Foxtel and the entire panoply of Sky News. As these thoughts raced through Benny’s head, we were still mired in worry. Worry that our situation, like our hope for a considered science – based federal climate policy was set perhaps a bar too high. Was it tempting fate to just hope that decency and common sense would be enough to see us through? Was the behaviour evinced by our government at Glasgow indicative of Australians’ at large, to tell the world to go get stuffed, mind yer own business and either fuck off or learn; ‘The Australian Way’? Was ‘the Australian way’ the only way? 

Was the ‘Australian Way’ the same as being ‘Un- Australian’, which was dog-whistle for wops, dago’s, anything with a whiff of Camembert , Rochefort or Brie? Or perhaps anyone who eschewed the rationale of yellow sandpaper and winning at all costs even if it meant cheating? 

Prince Chales to Scomo; “Camilla and I think Awstwalia’s stance is unbecoming’ and on another note your breath stinks of either Rochefort or Brie, fer chrissakes do something about it’!

Because in the end, winning, whether it be on the cricket pitch, at Glasgow or as the number one carbon emitter per person globally, is all that counts! 

Benny tried to make light of our situation. In a tight squeeze you could rely on a member of the SAS to be cheery, that’s what made them outstanding soldiers in the field, feared and respected the world over.   ‘Did I ever tell you boys about the night at the Fat Lady’s Arms, when we held a review for the arrival of the UK Special Envoy on UXB’s, (Un-exploded bombs)  Prince Andrew”? 

(Scomo to Barnaby) ‘After my stint in Glasgow I promise you and yer mate Keefy a night out at the Fat Lady’s Arms for being such good sports and for backing me up on my fracas with the frogs’!

We smiled, another Prince Andrew story, this’ll get us through these dark days we thought to ourselves.  ‘No Benny do tell’?  It was comforting that Benny held the great tradition of the  Aussie yarn intact. Something that had not yet been atomised by the twin pillars of social media and instagram.  “Well,  (Benny warmed to his subject)  its like this see, (Benny relished the opportunity to spin a good yarn). Yarn spinning is all in the telling and we knew that Benny was an expert in the great  Aussie tradition of mixing fact with a helluva lot of fiction. In this respect he was a bloody legend. Eagerly we rejoiced for some relief and the anticipation of a yarn well told.  ‘There’s this contortionist, a dwarf and a Afghani snake-charmer and they walked into this pub, and the contortionist said to the snake charmer, I bet you fifty bucks the dwarf has….. “ Shhhhhhh” Sophie admonished, Stop right now, there’s something coming. STAND DEAD STILL’….. 

We stood frozen…..what else could we do?  We were still trapped, and with Sophie in charge there was no mistake. Just like  an ordinary low-paid wage earner before the Fair Work Commission we were still in deep shit…and Sophie all smeared mascara and over- applied lippy would never let us forget it. 

And there was always the chilling thought, that perhaps in front of us, behind us, to either side, behind any inspection portal niche or reinforced steel and titanium door not yet earmarked for Australia’s future submarines program, there may still be a de-activated pommy nuke. One chance encounter could trigger a catastrophe greater in all estimation than both our abrogation at Glasgow or our shabby denouement of the French president.  Because for being foreign, he Bloody well deserved it!  And why? Because that’s ‘the Australian way’!

Is there any other way? 

Find out in our next Francophillic episode, “ Fully Franked and Furious”! or, “is to be fully franked, frank enough…. frankly?”