Coonan The Barbarian: So much coverage! So many mentions! But where’s my photograph? Why does the Financial Review have Kerry Stokes smiling on the front page when it’s really all about me? Where all others failed, La Coonan has triumphed! And everyone has been so kind about my great achievement. I must remember to be humble, to give credit to the PM’s leadership, but a girl can’t help being flattered when so many astute business leaders sing my praises. James applauds me, little JA is so sweet, Lloyd is, well, in need of his own hairstyle instead of trying to copy me. But what can Terry McCrann and Alan Kohler possibly mean about me being James’s Alan Bond? They’re not referring to family tax problems again are they? Well, everyone has those from time to time. I’m sure my PBL friends won’t allow that to be rehashed any more…
JA: Could Bertolucci capture this perfect moment? Awakening to power, so much power, so close I dare not think of it in case the orgasm overtakes me. It is enough simply to possess such sheets as these, let alone lie between them, bad enough that they crease in the night… No, the essence of perfection cannot be seen. This perfect room, expensive but so tasteful, the subtle monograms, the little touches. Such planning, such scheming, such perfect manipulation of the affairs of men. And beyond, the city, the nation, awaiting my subtle, tasteful, expensive command. They will know fear as they wait. Those who dared mock me. “Little Johnny” indeed! In every crevice of Fairfax they will cower and quake in the knowledge that my glance can remove them. Ah my Precious, I’m coming my Precious…
Lloyd, Friend of the Family: Right, first things first… what sort of job did the hairnet manage to do last night… not too much damage, nothing that can’t be fixed with a good blow wave and half a can of VO5. Now, where am I? Who am I? Chairman of the board still, I think. They might let me keep that if I prove helpful. It would be nice. Friend of the family for so long after all. The Packers have always been such good people to do business with. Just like the Liberal Party really. Pretty much seamless these days. And how much easier it would have to be with a real CEO, someone with Fairfax in their blood. Little JA. Hmmm, better not think of him like that anymore.
Paul the Powerless: Well I told them, told them, gormless bunch of jellybacks. The proles get the dictatorship they deserve. The dictatorship they deserve. After me, I told them, after me, the deluge. Exactly what I said would happen. And bloody Helen Coonan of all the silver spoon set delivered it. Silver spoon set. 14 stone of prime Tory power bimbo. Power bimbo. I could just spit. The unrepresentative swill serve it all up to Jamie Packer and Little Johnny Alexander on a solid gold bedpan. A solid gold bedpan. 20 stone of Tory boofhead and the crawling dilettante. Wouldn’t know French from faggots. So who’ll publish my letters to the editor now?
The other Little Johnny: Gee, that was quick.
James, make that “Mr” Packer: This shows ‘em. Shows all of ‘em. Who’s the man now? Just taking money from mugs – casinos, private equity, federal governments, all the same really. There won’t be any more dredging up f-cking One.Tel after this. No-one will dare.
Meanwhile, under two metres of dirt in the backblocks of the Upper Hunter, KP: I’m still on the other side, son, and there’s still nothing here.