My Offer Still Stands

Back in the early days of my Presidency I explained one of the key perks of holding the highest fictional office in the land: three free assassinations. With my band of ASIO snipers at the ready, I need only deliver the name of an adversary – and he/she would be ‘rubbed out’. Three exterminations, no questions asked. At the time I considered it obvious that my first target would be none other than the Honourable Tony Abbott MP. His far-right wing positions and his gross mishandling of the Health portfolio made it clear to me that Australia would be bet off without him. I can assure you that the passage of time has not changed my mind.

Unfortunately, in the intervening time though, I have not risen to Presidential power. The order for his termination was never given; his concrete shoes were never poured and no sniper’s bullet ever locked and loaded. Mr. Abbott has continued to persecute marginalised sectors of our society (gays, aboriginals, the sick and elderly) and run the health system into the ground (I’d say “I told you so”, but I’m not the gloating type) – but somehow remains a revered Liberal Minister. His behaviour this week though has pushed his bar of intolerance and arrogance higher than usual, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the PM was starting to wish that he’d heeded my warning.

In an action packed few days, Abbott managed to insult dying asbestosis sufferer Bernie Banton (of James Hardie fame), was caught calling (opposition health spokeswoman) Nicola Roxon’s comments ‘bullshit’, and was half an hour late to a televised 1 hour debate with the same woman. Tony capped his day by reneging on the governments bail out/management plan of Tasmania’s troubled Mersey Hospital. Smooth. He spent much of the afternoon trying to apologise for all this, a task that was clearly foreign to him – but a necessary one given the looming election. For mine, his mumbled calls for forgiveness fell on deaf ears.

Overall, Tony’s week has crystallised two thoughts in my mind. Firstly, when I finally do sit down at my mahogany Presidential desk, his name will still be the first that I ink on the back of a coaster (subsequently passed down the line to my ASIO men). In the meantime though, I’m content in the knowledge that Abbott’s continued existence increasingly weighs heavy around the neck of an already drowning PM. If everything goes to plan, they’ll disappear below the surface together and I can spare my assassination for someone more relevant.