National Party emergency caucus meeting, Sept. 10, 2005

National Party emergency caucus meeting, Sept. 10, 2005

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

DOCTOR DON BRASH. Aging, decrepit, discredited liar who also happens to be leader of the National Party.

MICHELLE BOAG. Complete bitch. Formidably well organised, well read and merciless political backroom operator. Former chairperson of the National Party, given the boot after guiding it to record defeat in 2002.

MURRAY McCULLY. Fomer lover of Michelle Boag. National Party campaign
"strategist", therefore currently the most discredited and disrespected person in the southern hemisphere.

JUDITH ("Rosa") COLLINS. A brutal, intimidating woman with the looks and personality of the James Bond villain, Rosa Klebs. Collins has replaced the lovely K****rine R*ch as the National Party's "social welfare" spokeswoman. To many observers, this position sits oddly
against her former role as a corporate lawyer for the casino industry.

K*****INE R*CH. The polar opposite to Collins. Blonde, curvy and gorgeous. Ignominiously tossed off National front bench because she was too "wet" .

SIMON POWER. Former National defence spokesman. Removed from position due to gross incompetence.

GEORGINA TE HEU HEU. Tall, aristocratic, a genuine example of Maori royalty. Ignominiously tossed off national front bench because she is Maori.

GERRY BROWNLEE. Enormously fat former woodwork teacher who somehow has ended up as deputy leader of the National Party. A walking, talking disaster, funny for about two minutes, painful and tiresome thereafter.

DOCTOR LOCKWOOD SMITH.  Notorious for his oft-stated willingness to act as an unquestioning lackey of the United States government. Former host of Australian children's TV show Here's Humphrey.  Smith played the role of Humphrey.  Later went on to front children's quiz show W-Three in NZ, where he haughtily insisted the intermediate school contestants call him "Sir".

BILL ENGLISH, Dr NICK SMITH, TONY RYALL. Sworn enemies of the current National Party leadership. A slyly subversive, potentially destabilizing trio of troublemakers.

M________ BR**N. Political pollster.

NOTE: The names of a couple of people who participate in a sexual act in the course of this documentary have been surgically amended, for privacy's sake.

-------------------------------------------
Saturday 10 September 2005, 9:25 a.m.
The top suite at the James Cook Hotel, Wellington. The National Party's former Welfare spokesperson MISS K*TH*R*N* R*CH sleeps, curled in the arms of her toyboy M_______ BR**N, the political pollster. While his "wet" Tory companion sleeps, BR**N watches the
television show Agenda, while elegantly---some might say pretentiously and smugly---sipping from a tall glass of Pimms.

Suddenly, MISS R*CH awakes with a jolt. BR**N only just manages to avoid a spillage of Pimms.

MISS R*CH: [panting fearfully] Oh my GOD!  Oh, M_________!  I'm so worried....

BR**N: [busses her then laughs reassuringly] Don't worry, my dear. Your husband's in Dunedin. And even if he did turn up here at the James Cook Hotel, I've got my batman Scr**ge keeping a look out. He's armed and he's ornery.

MISS R*CH: No, no --- not that. I've just had this horrifying dream. I was on this --- this jumbo jet... and it was utterly OUT OF CONTROL and heading inexorably for DISASTER, and everybody on it realized that too --- but it was too late, though, because it was TOO LATE to change the captain, and the co-captain was a FAT FOOL who nobody believed in, and everybody on board realized the captain was too old and had no idea and he was a blithering, hopeless liar and... and people up and down the country were just LAUGHING at us, and everyone was so grim and unhappy, especially that awful butch cow Judith Collins....

BR**N:  [gathers MISS R*CH in closely] Sssssshhhh, don't worry, my dear. Let moi interpr---

MISS R*CH: No need to interpret it, M__________.  I know perfectly well what it means: the National Party is doomed. Doomed like New Orleans. [She gives BR**N her well-rehearsed "helpless yet sultry" look] That means I'm doomed, too. Do you like doomed, wet women, M_________?

BR**N: [with well-rehearsed tone of deep sincerity] I ADORE doomed, wet women. [Growls roughly] Especially from the National party. Come 'ere....

[We draw a discreet veil over proceedings for eight steamy minutes.]

MISS R*CH: [shrieking] Oh God, it's nine thirty-eight! The emergency shadow caucus meeting starts at ten sharp! That uber-bitch Michelle Boag is coming to give us all a rark up! [bestows a long, lascivious kiss on BR**N] Gotta fly! I'm late.

-----------------------------------------
10:05 a.m. The Brethren's Churchill Road Gospel Hall in Crofton Downs. The National Party caucus is in session. The former chairwoman of the party, MICHELLE BOAG, is reading the riot act.  Demoralised politicians with sour, defeated expressions listen in gloomy silence. At first glance, everyone appears shell-shocked.  However, closer inspection shows that several members are rather more sanguine. Deposed leader BILL ENGLISH actually seems to be enjoying it somewhat. To the anger of many, and the amusement of some, he is ostentatiously reading Nicky Hager's explosive book The Hollow Men. BOAG bores on relentlessly...

BOAG: .... and in all fairness the less we hear of Don Brash over the next seven days the better.

BILL ENGLISH: You chose 'im!

BOAG: [grimly ignoring the disaffected former leader] And we will be hearing no more at all from our former "strategist" --- if that's the right word for what he's been up to over the last fortnight. [she glares at MURRAY McCULLY like a basilisk] From now on, I and seven friends, who will remain anonymous, will be directing this campaign. For the last week of the campaign we need to stop shooting ourselves in the foot and remind people of our CORE
PRINCIPLES. I sometimes wonder whether anybody remembers what the National Party STANDS for any more.

DR LOCKWOOD SMITH: [excitedly waving hand in the air] Ooh!  I know, I
know!

BOAG: [nervously] Ye-e-e-e-e-e-e-esss, Lockwood?

DR LOCKWOOD SMITH: Never pay in cash, Never tell the truth, and Never play by the rules!

BOAG: [closes eyes in despair, buries face in hands] Give me str-r-r-r-r-r-r-rength!

DON BRASH: No, no, no, no, no, no, no! That's not right, Lockwood! Eeeeeeehhhhhh....

JOHN KEY: [cool, smiling, unfazed] Actually, that IS the National Party philosophy.

SIMON POWER: And it's a darned fine philosophy too.

DON BRASH: Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no......

TONY RYALL: [in disgust] The right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing.

BILL ENGLISH: [shaking his head] These right wing ideologues are tearing this party apart! IT'S A FAILURE OF LEADERSHIP!

JOHN KEY: [cool, smiling, unfazed] We stand for... ooooohhhhh... taking the tax off petrol.

RYALL: Eh? You said the opposite two weeks ago!

SOWRY: It's ANOTHER flip-flop!

BROWNLEE: [with boyish excitement] Right, that's enough thinking! Let's go GET Helen Clark with our new flip-flop policy!

BOAG: [tartly, between clenched teeth] Shut up and sit down, you fatuous, footling fathead.

BROWNLEE: [aggressively] You can't call me fatuous! That's size-ist!

DON BRASH: Eeeeeeeehhhh, Gerry, when Michele calls you "fatuous", it does not mean you are fat, it means you are foolish.

BROWNLEE: [cheerfully] Oh! Well, that's all right, then!

DISAFFECTED CAUCUS MEMBER: Shut up and sit down, Brash! Michelle's in
charge, not you!

DOCTOR DON BRASH: Oh no, no, no, no, no, no. Eeeeeeeehhhhhh.....

BOAG: [doggedly ignoring the mounting turmoil] Now we also need an attack strategy to get at Margaret Wilson, and ---

SIMON POWER: We could base our strategy on the fact she's got a wooden leg!

BOAG: Yes! For once, a bright idea! Now let's brainstor----

[BOAG is interrupted mid-sentence by the late arrival of the deposed shadow welfare spokesperson.]

MISS R*CH: Sorry I'm late.

BOAG: [acerbically] Sit down quickly at the back of the room, next to Tony Ryall and Nick Smith, and that Maori woman.

DAVID CARTER: Siberia!

CAUCUS: Ha ha ha ha ha!

BOAG: Stop that! This is a party in crisis! The time for levity is after we win the election!

RYALL: Ha! THAT'll be the day! [imitating Fraser from Dad's Army] We're DOOMED! We're all DOOOOO-O-O-O-OOOMED!

CAUCUS:  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! ....I'd rather have Captain Mainwaring in charge than Don Brash! .... We're TOAST, let's face it, fellas! ... Don't PANIC!!!! ... Ha ha ha ha ha!

DOCTOR DON BRASH: Oh no no no no no no no no no. That's not funny.

CAUCUS: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

BOAG: Stop this nonsense NOW!  We need to FOCUS!

DOCTOR DON BRASH: Eeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh....

[The room descends into uproar. After the laughter has roiled around the room for an extended period, the hubbub eventually dies down. K*TH*R*N* R*CH moves toward the back of the now silent room. Unfortunately, this necessitates moving past her successor, the bulldog-like JUDITH COLLINS...]

COLLINS: [sotto voce, acidly] Being "grilled" by a "pole-ster", were we?

MISS R*CH:  [sotto voce, sweetly] You weren't. I was.

[COLLINS glowers, her face turning a deep, angry shade of purple as MISS R*CH moves on to take her seat in "Siberia" next to GEORGINA TE HEU HEU, MURRAY McCULLY, TONY RYALL and NICK SMITH.]

McCULLY:  K*th*rin*, I'm free tonight and for the rest of the week, if you need any help with your "poling"....