In more plot twists than the telephoned hacking disclosures for the Royal house of Prince Harry prior to the coronation, the retreat from Moscow suffered by Fox News before the Dominion crisis, or just the facost of living anxiety.

Our dedicated consultants can give the very latest advice on Estate realisation, assisted suicide and brokerage under our very simple, no win no gains basis. Our consultants led by the very ably credentialed Michelle Gatto and his cohort can arrange closure with the simple smoothing of a pillow, laid and with pressure applied to ensure swift asphyxiation. Estate management fees and clearances guaranteed within ninety days. Give our group a go by ringing our toll free number, and ask for the ‘associated estate preparation package’, and we will send the necessary information kit. As we acknowledge the very real reality that no one under the age of fifty will ever be able to buy a house unless mummy and daddy kark it, we optimistically return to our saga.

And on a personal note, we at pcbycp are more than willing to assist in the speedy departure of mummy and daddy if you are suffering rent stress and alleviate these cost of living struggles. If, (dear reader) your parents are not well endowed, we suggest you just keep reading this next instalment in the hope that someone comes good on their promise of a wage increase, or does something really significant to reduce the cost of living and make housing affordable. Such as kindly ask big business and energy suppliers to go easy on the consumer.

In if that is your circumstance at this point in time, per se, we suggest you start looking for and identifying flying pigs. As most politicians have three, four or some as many as ten or fifteen investment properties negatively geared and safely secured, we suggest you may have Buckley’s or hope for a Fairy God Mother. Last time we saw the Fairy Godmother she was out at ‘Camp Rolfe’, formerly Yuendumu, distributing investment rent to buy packages, and pre- paid funerals to the hapless denizens. In debt we shall grow.

But of debt, what about the debt we owe the Royal Family? Which Royal Family?  There’s only one. Not the pretenders from Money- Cheeto, but the real deal, Charles and Camilla, and their flunkeys, Billy-Boy, (Prince William) and his Missus, Kalamity, Katherine Windsor.

Time is a ticking time bomb when that mob are after you and they’ll; make Michelle and his mates look like pansies,

 

We return to our saga.

 

‘Christ’! Julian exploded, ‘with the house of Windsor after us, we haven’t got a chance. Even if we get out of this mess, we’re rooted. Sophie and her cohort are ardent royalists, and this bloke’, he pointed with a withered nicotine-stained finger to the crumpled form of Brendan Nelson, ‘and this bloke as far as the royals are concerned is bum boy central, he’d do anything to save his skin and get a royal gong. His whole and entire life has been spent in the sacred role of suck-dom, and if we don’t knock him off now we’re more or less royally rooted. And as here Royal Highness Princess Fergie of muck would say we’re majestically Fucked’.

 

We all agreed Julian had a way with words.

‘So lets knock him off, Benny’!

Julian turned his puce coloured visage to our war hero, pleading for Benny to do what was natural for him.

‘I dunno’, Benny replied. Julian looked absolutely struck, we all froze. Benny just looked at the crumpled figure in his safari suit coat and shorts. He looked pathetic and we could see that for this once, Benny had empathy.

‘Nup’! Benny replied, ‘I just can’t do it, it doesn’t seem right!

‘Right’?

Jullian pleaded.

‘Of course it is’! ‘If you let this little twerp live it’ll be worse for us than being holed up in the Ecuadorian embassy, worse than solitary at Bellmarsh, worse than having to root Pamela Anderson just to get a packet of fags, I’m telling you Benny, if you don’t do it were all cactus!

‘Nup it aint right’!

‘But you’ve rolled wops off cliffs’! Julian enthused. ‘And you’ve gathered prosthetic limbs from the field of valour. What’s wrong about this’?

‘Nup!  I know he’s a fawning little pipsqueak, but the way I see it, there’s no honour in knocking him off.  And besides,  he may be worth more to us alive. As a bargaining chip.

Bargaining chip’? Julian expostulated, ‘who’s to bargain with?  Whether the little squirt lives or dies, were hounded by the Royals , the (he pointed upwards) the ‘chocolate royals’, Sophie and Angus and every other crooked bastard who seeks to monetise our suffering so they can get another leg up on the greasy pole’.

‘Greasy pole’?

Ces pointed to the corner of the recess, as the first of the spears began to puncture the already crumpled fuselage of the Rotodyne. ‘ Look at that’! They all turned, and sure enough in the recess they noticed a Totem of sorts.  This one larger and more squat than the one in the village. A totem devoted to the likeness of Sophie as a fertility goddess.

‘See there’!

They all looked upwards the head has a sort of crown.  ‘All we have to do is climb up and gain that portal’! He directed their gaze to a cave.  A much smaller one running into the side of the mountain.  ‘If we can get up into there, we  may have a chance of finding a way out. And none too soon’!

What began as a trickle became a storm of spears as they rained down from above.  ‘Come on!  There’s no time to loose, the alcove is protected. Grab Brenny-boy and go for it’!

 

‘Now!

And they clambered up to the feet of the Sophie totem. ‘The only way up is to form a human chain and see if you can get over that ledge there’! Ces pointed to the large protuberances, crudely fashioned by the natives as enormous breasts. ‘I know you’ll have to get a gold of her tits to gain purchase, and see if you can get a foothold on her navel, and hang on with the other hand to her nipples’.  Nervously they clutched the nipples. Pulled hard to test the weight and heaved themselves over the melon like over- sized   protuberances.

 

Dear reader, we would like to apologise on behalf of the Melbourne Comedy Festival for this farcical scene. But we must faithfully record it as spoken in keeping the accuracy of events untarnished as they unfold, we continue. And as this scene is ridiculous and in the genre of an anecdote from Sir Les Patterson, we record it faithfully in homage to our greatest politician and mentor.

 

‘See if you can get her midriff, tie this rope to her belt, they saw a belt of sorts fashioned by vine, and Benny adroitly tied his grappling hook and tested the weight.  ‘It’ll take us, you go on up. I’ll carry Brenny-boy and meet you at the top. Get a good hold of the tits, in this climate they might get slippery, and fer Chrissakes hang on’!

 

Will our heroes get out of this pit of peril?

 

Will the statue which includes a likeness of Sophie’s tits be strong enough to take the weight?  Will her nipples withstand the pressure?

Find out in our next mammory-eth episode, ‘Sagging tits and destiny’ or

‘Cripple nipple, and we’re stuck in the middle’.