Politicians dreaming of an all-right Christmas

T’WAS THE night before Christmas, when House; Not a Labour backbencher was stirring, not even to grouse; Their doubts were hung by the chimney with care; In hopes that in 2014 Shearer still would be there. The Greens were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of inquiries danced in their heads; And Tariana Turia in her Guevara cap; Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap. When out on the Speaker’s lawn there arose such a clatter; Lockwood sprang from his throne to see what was the matter; Away to the Beehive he flew like a flash; Just in time to see the growth forecasts crash. The sweat on the forehead of Prime Minister Key; Was matched only by that on the head of GCSB; When, what to wondering eyes, should appear; But a boat made of cabbage towed by eight reindeer, With a little, old driver, so obfuscutive and un-frank; Key knew in a minute it must be John Banks; More rapid than eagles the donors they came; Now if only he could remember them by name. Now, HEKIA, now GERRY, now CHRIS and McCULLY!

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the On BILL, on JOYCE on CRUSHER and TONY! To the top of the Beehive! To the top of the poll! Now dash away! dash away! dash away before Shearer gets rolled. And then, in a twinkling, we heard on the roof; The accent of a German proclaiming ‘‘the truth’’. As the FBI withdrew and the helicopter turned around; Down the chimney Dotcom came with a bound. He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot; And he was complaining the Crown had taken his loot. A sack full of secrets he had flung on his back; And the Opposition looked on in wonder, mesmerised as the media pack. On the lumpy prison mattress he gritted his teeth; And his wrath encircled Key’s neck like a wreath; At Question Time he sat with his little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his Twitter, And soon the nation’s spies were all out of kilter. And laying his finger aside of his nose, Like a David Cunliffe challenge, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his legal team gave a whistle, And away to David Bain the lawyers flew like the down off a thistle. But I heard Kim exclaim, ’ere he drove out of sight, ‘‘ HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOODNIGHT!’’