The leaders’ debate
JOHN KEY
DAVID CUNLIFFE
and heard a familiar voice. ‘‘Well done,’’ he said. ‘‘Thank you, Winston,’’ I said.
Ralston. I blame Ralston. I think what the public saw is that the New Zealand Labour Party is fully prepared to lead the next government. We went into the debate having done our homework. We knew our sums and they added up and we could, when asked, show you the money. We talked policy. We didn’t talk dirty politics; we’re above that. We talked about John Key with respect, because that shows good manners. We talked about the future, whereas John Key, who is a loser and an idiot, talked about the past. We talked about date nights with the wife and it was plain we didn’t know what a date night was but we kept talking nonetheless. We kept on talking when John Key was talking and when Mike Hosking was talking, and we could have talked the whole hour without pause, and come to think of it that’s exactly what we did.
JOHN KEY
Mostly I blame Collins. Judas Collins, dirty and treacherous, conniving and colluding with Cameron Slater, always sticking her face in front of the camera and advertising her ridiculous little ambitions to lead the party – I think the majority of New Zealanders support a world without Collins in it. I couldn’t think straight because of Collins. An hour before the debate was due to start, there’s a story claiming she sent out her bagmen to sweet-talk Winston Peters about working with her if she was the leader. OK so there’s two sides to every story and I think both of them point to her guilt. The worst thing about it is that every time I tried to take a deep breath and close my eyes, I had a mental picture of Collins at the campaign launch – dancing. Well, tomorrow Goddammit.
JOHN KEY
is
another
day. At the end of the day the All Blacks are on an historic winning streak and if we all work together we can sail the boat past the finishing line and be home in time for a nice hot cup of tea and a lie-down. Right now I’ll settle for the lie- down. Except I know what I’ll see when I close my eyes. Collins, dancing – on my grave. Stop! Make it stop! If only we could find a way to force her to resign.
MIKE HOSKING
My hair.
Is my
hair alright?