“I was outraged at the Howard Government for something or other,” said Director of Bryan Street Productions, Chris Rattray, “but in the end I just learned to bend over and take it. I’m doing it for the kids.”

A bunch of beached whales pointed and laughed, except none of them had fingers to point with so they just kind of dried up and rotted slowly in the sun. Several greenies impaled themselves on falafel in protest about something and the conservatives decided enough was enough and walled themselves into a private resort where they grew increasingly desperate and unhappy at their sad, miserable, empty lives. But then they chucked a few more prawns on the barbie and chugged down some expensive lager because it seemed to be the thing to do.

Mr. Rattray pointed his Death Ray at their stronghold and creased his brow.

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