It’s Friday arvo, close to tea-time, and the Minister for Climate Change, Greg Combet, is walking down St Mary’s road in Sydney. Suddenly, he notices, on the other side and walking in the same direction, Tony Abbott.
For his part, as he reaches the Catholic Cathedral, Tones veers off and enters its hallowed halls. Greg finds this very intriguing. “Hmmm”, he says to himself, “I wonder if Tones has an appointment with Cardinal Pell? I think I’ll just mosey in and see if I can eavesdrop on their conversation...”
As Greg pushes the front door open and pokes his head around for a squiz, he notices there is no-one inside except for Tones, who is way up at the front, kneeling down in prayerful supplication. Greg tip-toes along the side, where the confession boxes are, and notices the largest one has a big sign above it, identifying it as belonging to the good Cardinal. It also confirms the times for confession – Friday, 4-6 pm. However, he also notices a post-it stuck to the door: “Back in an hour – gone to fold some flyers for Lord Moncton’s visit – George”.
Then, to Greg’s discomfort, he notices Tones beginning to clamber up off his knees. He peels off the post-it, opens the Cardinal’s door and hides inside its dark cavernous interior, before Tones can spot him.
However, to Greg’s alarm, Tones walks straight over to the confessional, opens the penitent’s door and enters, kneeling down in the semi-darkness, waiting for “George” to push back the grill and give him the benefit of his fortnightly shot of divine inspiration.
On the other side of the grill, Greg decides he is going to have some fun. He slides open the grill, signifying the confession may begin.
Tones: Bless me, George, for I have sinned...it is two weeks since my last confession...
[Tones doesn’t even get to begin his litany of transgressions when he is rudely interrupted by “George”, who appears to have an Irish accent.]
“George”: Now listen here, you blackguard – don’t you dare come in here addressing me by my first name – have you no respect for the holy cloth?
Tones: Hey, hang on a minute – you aren’t George! Who are you anyway?
“George”: I am who I am...or, is it, “I am, I said” – I always get my Old Testament verses mixed up with my favourite Neil Diamond song titles...Well, anyway, I’m Fr O’Leary and I’m on a priests’ working visa from Ireland and I’m standing in for His Eminence who’s off for an hour or two doing God’s work in regard to the upcoming incarnation of the Messiah Moncton...
[Tones has never heard so much drivel since he had to listen to Barnaby Joyce trying to explain that it was the devil who made him drive a perfectly good four-wheel drive vehicle into a flooded Queensland creek.]
Tones: Well, if you’re not His Eminence, I’m off – I haven’t time to be kneeling here listening to some half-pissed Irish cleric who would make Fr Jack Hackett sound even more articulate than Barack Obama in full rhetorical flight...
“Fr O’Leary”: But...but...but...hold on to your horses, young fella...I’ve got a few “people” here whom you might find more than a tad interesting...
Tones: What? You’ve got people in the confessional with you? What have you got going in there – a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous or something...heh...heh...
“Fr O’Leary”: No, my son...you misunderstand me – the people I refer to are beyond the grave...
Tones: Erm...I think you might have downed one case too many of your Bushmills whiskey, Father...
“Fr O’Leary”: No, my son...let me explain...You see, we get all sorts of reprobates and degenerates in here, confessing to their heinous crimes...
Tones: Huh...Malcolm Turnbull must be a regular customer of yours then Father...hee...hee...
“Fr O’Leary”: Well, as I was saying, a recent penitent confessed to me that he had been participating in séances...
Tones: Huh...I know all about them, mate – have you ever tried to chair a meeting of the Shadow Cabinet...sheesh!
“Fr O’Leary”: But, you might find this interesting, my son...during his confession, this particular individual explained to me how to make contact with those beyond the grave...He said these spirits keep their eye on present-day happenings and can provide us with some very useful information...
Tones: Errr...hang on a minute...you mean you could contact some dead ALP malcontents and get them to spill the beans on Gillard and her mates?
“Fr O’Leary”: Yes, my son...so, let us start...let us quieten ourselves...so that the spirits can approach us in confidence...
[Tones can’t believe his luck. Hopefully, some deceased ALP pollies will speak from beyond the grave and drop heaps of dirt on the lefties. Then, after a few seconds of quiet, “Fr O’Leary” begins to stir.]
“Fr O’Leary”: I can feel a spirit coming amongst us...Yes...he says he is Mal Colston, who resigned from the ALP in 1996. He confesses that he took the thirty pieces of silver from the Liberals and agreed to become their patsy as Deputy-President of the Senate...
Tones (impatiently): Never mind all that crap...what dirt has he got after listening into ALP Caucus and Cabinet meetings all this time?
“Fr O’Leary”: Yes, he is making contact with me...He is saying that the Prime Minister is just about to adopt the Nauru Solution...she will announce that every Muslim from here to Mecca and back will be put up, at Australian taxpayers’ expense, at the five-star Nauru Resort, and afterwards shipped in the luxurious comfort of the QE 2 to Oz, where they will turf all the Australians out of their homes and jobs, and make everyone wear a burqa...
[Tones, at this news, can hardly contain his rapture. He jots down a few details, ready to quote them in his upcoming press conference.]
Tones (gagging): Anything else...anything else?
“Fr O’Leary”: Erm...I think we are losing him...But, wait...I can feel the presence of another spirit...He says he is Bill Bryson – a MHR who was expelled from the ALP in 1955, at the time of the DLP split...
Tones: Right...but has he got any dirt on Brown’s bitch?
“Fr O’Leary”: Yes...he is speaking quite candidly to me now...he says he was spiritually present at a recent Cabinet Meeting and he says they plan to include breathing in the soon-to-be-imposed carbon tax...
Tones: Huh...sounds like a load of hot air to me, mate...heh...heh...
“Fr O’Leary”: Yes, he is saying that the lefties are planning to tax everyone a dollar for every time they breathe out, cos they’re contributing to greenhouse gases...
[Again, Tones can’t believe his luck – if Jooles tries to pull this stunt, they’ll be carting her off in a strait-jacket, thinking she’s escaped from the set of “One flew over the cuckoo’s nest”.]
“Fr O’Leary”: Alas, Bill has departed back to the other place...But...I feel yet another spirit in our midst...Yes...he says he is John Lynch...an MHR who resigned from the ALP in 1916 after his leader, Billy Hughes, failed in his attempt to bring in conscription...
Tones: And, what does he say?
“Fr O’Leary”: Yes...it’s getting clearer...he’s still banging on about conscription...He says the government is not satisfied with the progress of the war in Afghanistan and is planning to commence a Children’s Crusade and conscript all primary-aged children – only from private schools, mind you – to go over there and act as minefield clearers...
[Tones still can’t believe his luck. He jots down all the details on the back of one of the envelopes John Howard bequeathed to him, and pushes open the confessional door. And, just by coincidence, Chris Uhlmann, Miranda Divine and Dennis Shanahan are there on their knees in the pews ready to get their confession heard by Cardinal Pell, having told so many porkies to their readers and listeners. Tones blurts out that he needs to call a press conference immediately, so that he can stick it up the government.]
Miranda: No worries, Tones...there are a few camera crews in a watering-hole up the street...I’ll go and fetch them and we can make a start...
[A few minutes later, Tones confidently begins a press conference in the nave of the Cathedral.]
Tones: Ladies and gentlemen...thank you for attending so promptly...So, before I take your questions, I have recently been in contact with at least three ALP backbenchers...And, believe me...they are not very happy chappies...
[Greg Combet, aka Fr O’Leary, sits back in his confessional throne and has a quiet chuckle to himself.]
Greg: Heh...heh...
some ALP backbenchers may have been complaining to him...But, after this presser, it’ll be the Coalition frontbenchers who’ll be doing the complaining...