The secret diary of . . . Andrew, Iain and Winston
ANDREW FALLOON
I don’t feel well.
WINSTON PETERS
I feel fine. Never better. Give me an election campaign and that’s when you see Winston Peters at his best and if that means you also see Winston Peters at his worst then so be it.
ANDREW FALLOON
I feel like no one believes me.
WINSTON PETERS
I feel like a fight. Seymour — I could take Seymour. I could easily take Seymour. Put me in the ring with Seymour and I will box his ears, break his ribs, smash him in the face, knock his teeth out — but he’s lucky because they don’t make adorable little gloves in my size.
ANDREW FALLOON
I feel like a drink but that might not be a good idea.
WINSTON PETERS
I don’t need Ardern. Ardern needs me. I don’t need Collins. Collins needs to show some respect. I don’t need to pay $320,000 as ordered by the High Court. The court needs to show some mercy. I don’t need to prove I had no involvement in sending two friends of mine on a freebie to Antarctica. Antarctica needs my ice tray. I don’t need politics. Politics needs Winston Peters.
IAIN LEES-GALLOWAY
I don’t feel well.
WINSTON PETERS
I feel like a drink. That’s never a bad idea. Sit back with a glass and if it’s on the rocks, then give it a gentle shake and listen to the music of the ice cubes against the side of the glass. It’s like a light percussion. I’ve heard that music all my political life. It’s the soundtrack of so many, many late nights weighing up the odds, moving the pieces, looking for weak spots, judging the right time to say something and not to say something . . . Some people say the teapot tapes was my finest hour. But my finest hour is always about to happen. The next 50 days are my finest hours.
IAIN LEES-GALLOWAY
I felt desire.
WINSTON PETERS
I feel ready.
ANDREW FALLOON AND IAIN LEES-GALLOWAY
We, the cancelled, say farewell.
WINSTON PETERS
No one will ever cancel Winston Peters. Stay tuned. You ain’t seen nothing yet.