The British House of Commons’ “Court of Star-fruit Chamber” hasn’t been as busy since The Monkees and Milli Vanilli were arraigned before it on charges of pretending to sing on their own records.
And, more recently, Rhubarb Rupert, Rebekah Radish and Jammy James have also been subjected to the pressure-cooker treatment.
So, to offer their mate Rhubarb some moral support, Tony Abbott and his Coalition friends have gone over to London.
Meanwhile, the managers of the House of Commons’ scullery, the husband-and-wife team, George and Mildred, are busily trying to order in enough food and drink to cater for the ravenous appetites of the Court of Star-fruit Chamber members upstairs. Eventually, their order arrives and is plonked at the back door. Mildred asks George to bring the crates of food and drink items in, whilst she goes upstairs to the Chamber to ask the greedy bastards what they want to eat and drink.
However, there are no flies on Tony and the gang, as, disguised as various food and drink items, they had already secreted themselves, back at the suppliers, in the appropriate crate. George now carts the wooden containers inside and awaits further instructions from Mildred. The over-fed seat-warmers upstairs, however, can’t make up their minds what to order, so George, to kill time, pops out to the yard to have a quick smoke. Tony and the others take advantage of George and Mildred’s absence from the scullery to break out of the crates and settle themselves quickly on the table. Ostensibly, they will discuss how they can help their mate Rhubarb, before he gets stretched on the rack.
So, just as during the French Revolution the poor downtrodden aristocracy had their champion in the Scarlett Pimpernel, now Rhubarb Rupert can turn to his very own home grown liberator – Tony the Annoying Orange!!!
Having finished his smoke outside, George wanders back into the scullery and notices some things on the table that weren’t there before.
George (to himself): Hmmmm...funny that...I wonder how they got on the table? Must have been Mildred when I was outside...She must have taken one item from each of the crates for our morning tea and lunch...anyways, those greedy bastards upstairs won’t notice a few things going missing...heh...heh...
[George saunters off to fetch some coal from the bunker, to ensure the ancient range has got enough heat in it to cook the meals for “that lot” upstairs. Tony the Annoying Orange seizes his opportunity. You see, Tony has an ulterior motive for coming to London. He wants to get all his leadership rivals in the one spot where they would most likely all be “taken care of”, Machiavellian-bastardry-style, in one fell swoop...heh...heh...His first target is Malcolm “Turnip” Turnbull.]
Tony: Hey, Turnip...Turnip...hey...hey...Turnip...
[Malcolm pretends he doesn’t hear Tony the Annoying Orange trying to attract his attention. “Who does this oaf think he is, addressing moi as a common vegetable”, he complains inwardly. And, talking of his innards, Malcolm isn’t feeling too well. The suppliers had boiled him in water for a quick preparation when he got to the Court of Star-fruit Chamber’s scullery, but the slack bastards hadn’t bothered to dry him off. So, he is now sitting on the table in the middle of a pool of water.]
Tony: Hey, Turnip...Turnip...hey...hey...Turnip...
[Tony the Annoying Orange, as usual, won’t give over. Eventually, Turnip snaps.]
Turnip: What is it, you moron? Can’t you see I’m not feeling well...and it looks like I have pissed my pants...
Tony: Hey, Turnip...Turnip...hey...hey...Turnip...I always said you were a bit of a wet...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...
[Turnip decides to ignore this imbecile from now on.]
Tony: Hey, Turnip...Turnip...hey...hey...Turnip...Masher...
[Turnip had been feeling so sorry for himself he didn’t notice Mildred coming into the scullery. Like George earlier, she is puzzled as to how only one item of the various food and drink orders had got onto the table. So, for her part, she assumes that George had done a bit of pilfering on their behalf...hee...hee...She takes a bowl out of the cupboard, lifts Turnip Turnbull up by the scruff of his neck, plonks him in and proceeds to quickly mash him to a pulp.]
Tony (to himself): Ouch...ooooohhhhh...that must hurt...But, anyway, c’est la vie – another leadership rival less to worry about...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...
[Mildred then leaves the scullery to run some other errands, so Tony the Annoying Orange seizes a further opportunity to cull his opposition. This time he picks on Julie “Bulls-eye” Bishop.]
Tony: Hey, Bulls-eye...Bulls-eye...hey...hey...Bulls-eye...
[Julie is not impressed by the conduct of this ruffian. She also ignores Tony.]
Tony: Hey, Bulls-eye...Bulls-eye...hey...hey...Bulls-eye...
[Julie can’t take any more. In a tone that would make Sybil Fawlty sound like the Avon Lady, she turns on Tony.]
Julie: What do you want, you freakin’ cretin?
Tony: Erm...if there were two bulls-eyes sitting on the table, would one be a copy of the other...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...
[if Julie had a lip, she would be biting it, hoping this idiot would just go away.]
Tony: Hey, Bulls-eye...Bulls-eye...hey...hey...Bulls-eye...Mouth...
[Just at this moment, George comes back in with a couple of buckets of coal for the range. “Yum”, he says, “I love bulls-eyes”, and proceeds to pop Julie into his mouth, sucking ferociously.]
Tony: Yuk...oooohhhhh...not nice...that fur-coated tongue...those yellow teeth...that foul-smelling tobacco breath...what a way to go...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...
[So, Tony is delighted at the demise of yet another leadership rival. His next intended victim, however, isn’t a currently serving politician yet, but has shown all the attributes of fitting right into the Coalition groove. It is none other than Declan “Lobster” Stephenson.]
Tony: Hey, Lobster...Lobster...hey...hey...Lobster...
[Declan, to be honest, doesn’t look like your common or garden regular lobster. Unfortunately, he had been born a mutant, with knuckles instead of claws. However, since birth, he had made the best of a bad job by dragging them across the sea floor, unearthing all sorts of tasty morsels to prey on. Now, looking around for his next victim, Declan is studiously ignoring this prattling, annoying, piece of fruit.]
Tony: Hey, Lobster...Lobster...hey...hey...Lobster...get back under a rock...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...
Declan: Hey – stop stealing my lines, you mongrel...
Tony: Hey, Lobster...Lobster...hey...hey...Lobster...Hammer...
[At that moment, the sickening thud of a hammer being wielded mercilessly by George reverberates within the prison-like walls of the scullery. Soon, Lobster’s flesh is being picked out, piece by piece, from amongst the detritus of his shattered shell.]
Tony: Ooooohhhh...not nice...not a fairy-tale ending...for him anyway...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...
[And so the carnage continues. Much to Tony the Annoying Orange’s morbid fascination, another pretender, Jonnie the Marble Cake, smothered in fresh cream, is munched to bits for morning tea by George and Mildred.
Joe “The Pie” Hockey is so convinced by Tony that he is the nicest pie in the world, he actually commits hari kari by eating himself! And David Bushby suffers the same fate as Joe by foolishly turning up as a tin of cat-food!
Scotch Morrison is downed in one gulp by a very thirsty George, whilst Christopher Pyne-cone is chucked on the hot-plate and roasted to perfection. And the two busy kitchen-hands also have half of a John “Ring Donut” Howard each for another snack. As Johnny disappears down their cake-holes, the last mocking words he hears from Tony are: “where’s your middle, donut? Is it one of your non-core promises...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...heh...”
Finally, all of Tony the Annoying Orange’s rivals have gone to greet George and Mildred’s gastric juices. If he had any thumbs, he would be twiddling them, waiting impatiently for another food item rival to turn up. However, he has nothing better to do than listen in to George and Mildred’s conversation.]
Mildred: It looks like they’re finished questioning old Rhubarb Rupert and his gang upstairs, darl...
George: And about time too, love – we were just about to run out of wet lettuce leaves to flog ‘em with...hee...hee...
Mildred: Too true, snookums, too true...All this cooking and preparing isn’t half making me thirsty, though – is there any juice in the fridge, darl?
George: Hah, hon...those greedy bastards upstairs drank it all...But, wait a minute...what about that blender we brought back last year from our holidays in Wales...I’ll just grab it from the cupboard...
Mildred: Good idea, sweetie...I’ll just slice the peel off this nice orange, and then you can give it the works...
[Tony can’t believe his number’s up. His dreams of becoming the Chief Mandarin at the liquescent Lodge are now getting well and truly sliced open by Mildred’s sharp knife. This is bad. But surely the liquefier is going to be a lot worse.]
Tony: Noooooooooooo...not Julia the Juicer!!! I’m too young to die!!! I thought I would have at least two and a half years left in me to be the most annoying person in the world...Aaaarrrrrrgggghhhh...STOP THE JUICER!!!
[Shortly afterwards, George and Mildred are contentedly sipping their freshly-squished orange juice.]
Mildred: Y’know, George...when you were blending that orange, I thought the machine was making some funny noises...
George: Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, darl...When you juice ‘em, it’s normal to hear the pips squeak...heh...heh...