The summer blockbuster starring Prime Minister Scott "ScoMo" Morrison; Defence Minister "Potato" Peter Dutton; Treasurer Josh Frydenberg; Deputy PM "Beetroot" Barnaby Joyce; MP Christian Porter; Senator Michaelia Cash; Senator Matt Canavan; Health Minister Greg Hunt; God and COVID-19.
A battle between good and evil, coming to a screen near you.
Independent Australia was sent a copy of the all-important third reel and here is is. Join gang leader Morrison revving his troops before the climactic showdown.
MORRISON: Men, and Michaelia. Has anyone seen Michaelia? Where is she?
PORTER: Yeah. Where is she? She claimed it as a matter of integrity for each one of us to be here to defeat COVID. Typical woman. Can’t rely on them.
MORRISON: With or without Michaelia, we’re going to go out there and stare down COVID, the way we’ve stared it down before. One last drink before we go. On me.
JOYCE: One last drink? One last drink! Bullshit! I’ll down three to your one.
CANAVAN: Are you mandating a compulsory last drink? If you are, I won’t have one. Mandates don’t work. They’re evil and the sort of thing socialists demand. If you’re not actually mandating a last drink, I’ll have a long glass of cola.
FRYDENBERG: I’ll have a beer, thanks.
BARTENDER: Victoria Bitter?
FRYDENBERG: Some Victorians are bitter I haven’t supported my home state enough, but a $10,000,000 upgrade of the Kooyong Tennis Centre should get me over the line. I’ll have a James Boag’s. A great Tassie beer.
DUTTON: I’ll have a double vodka straight.
MORRISON: And I’ll have a beer.
(They all order their drinks and quickly quaff them down. Except Morrison, who takes selfies, beer in hand, with each member of his gang.)
MORRISON: Okay. Out we go. Stare it down, then shoot it down. Shake it and bake it. Stare, glare and shoot.
HUNT: Where’s Michaelia? Still not here.
MORRISON: Don’t worry about her. Typical West Australian. She’s probably drafting legislation enabling WA to secede from the Commonwealth.
(The gang heads out of the saloon, guns in their holsters, ready to confront and stare down COVID-19. Immediately upon their exit, Michaelia Cash appears from behind a large whiteboard with the saloon's daily specials written on it.)
CASH: Julie was right. I thought those big swinging dicks would never leave.
(Outside, the Morrison gang is confronted by a deserted street.)
DUTTON: What do we do now?
MORRISON: Fan out. Stand legs apart and stare. Stare without blinking if you can.
DUTTON: Stare at what? I was pooping my pants COVID-19 may have been a new Sudanese youth gang. But look. There’s nothing there.
MORRISON: It’s there. Can’t you see it? I can see it.
DUTTON: Really? You can see it. Just like you can see God sending you signals.
MORRISON: Just because God hasn’t called on you to do his work does not mean he doesn’t exist. The fact it is my gang and not yours suggests God does exist. Now stare and look mean.
(They all stand, staring into the distance. Morrison smirks. His gang members look bemused.)
MORRISON: Christian. Get your gun out and shoot him.
PORTER: Shoot who?
MORRISON: COVID-19, you idiot
(As Porter pulls his gun from its holster, he accidentally shoots himself in the foot. He collapses to the ground, clutching his wounded foot.)
MORRISON: I didn’t say shoot yourself, you idiot! While you’re down there, aim your gun and shoot COVID.
(Porter aims his gun, shoots, grimaces in pain and then smiles.)
Porter: How was that, boss?
MORRISON: (Smiles) Great shot. COVID gunned down by a Christian. Reads well.
PORTER: (Grimacing in pain and bleeding from his foot) See? Reckon I’ve humiliated it, boss.
HUNT: While you’re at it, Christian, how about you let go with another booster shot, to really stymie it in its tracks.
(Porter fires his gun again, looks up and flashes a weak smile.)
PORTER: Take that, you COVID crud.
MORRISON: Pick yourself up, Christian. Get yourself back to the bar and get a stiff drink into you.
(Porter limps back to the bar, exclaiming to no one in particular.)
PORTER: Guess I showed him. Talk about humiliation. Reckon that vulgar little virus has never been humiliated like that before.
(Porter enters the bar and trips over Barnaby Joyce lying prostrate on the ground. Porter crashes to the ground. Joyce, oblivious to what has just happened, keeps on singing to himself.)
JOYCE: “He’s a coalman, but he understands. He’s a coalman.” Love the Bee Gees. Settled in Queensland. And why the fuck wouldn’t you choose to settle in Queensland? “He’s a coalman.”
(Back outside, Morrison rallies his gang.)
FRYDENBERG: I can’t see a thing. Just an empty street.
CANAVAN: Same here.
MORRISON: Don't despair, lads. We’ve got God on our side. He’s here with me now.
MORRISON: Josh. Pull out your gun, stare and then shoot COVID-19.
(Frydenberg grabs his gun, stares at the scene ahead of him, aims his gun and fires.)
MORRISON: What have you done, you idiot?
FRYDENBERG: What you told me to do. I shot COVID.
MORRISON: No, you haven’t. You shot God, you idiot.
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