So, you thought you’d read the last of Malcolm B Duncan’s “The Scion, the Wheat, and the Cabinet”? Think again, my poppets!
(Image Credit: Wedding in Tuscany)
The Chronicles of Nadir
As told from the grave by Tom Lewis
Tale the First
The Scion, the Wheat, and the Cabinet
The battle had been fought. Sir Alfred Deakin looked down on the carnage. It had come to this: Amanda had escaped and now ruled in Rome on a diet of pasta and Chianti. Peter had decided to take his balls and go home or go home to a ball or Tanya or something. Alexander was bored (well he’d been bored a number of times, actually, but Oxford was like that). Little Lucy was looking forward to the move to Kirribilli House but she didn’t know how long the children would have to spend in storage before they got there and she wasn’t completely certain they should go to Shore anyway. St. Ignatius was more her style and she had no objection to Loreto for the girls.
But the carnage was truly terrible. Severed limbs, red everywhere (particularly under beds), even on the head of Jules of the Galliard and Ruddy was the colour of the day. The Lady Jadis was packing and the Dwarf – well, the Dwarf was so depressed he just couldn’t stop powerwalking – round and round the harbour he went, closely followed by a soon-to-be unemployed Corder, who now regretted signing the AWA. Still, he thought to himself, with the super, if he had his choice, he wouldn’t work.
A long line of former Senators and Members of the House of Representatives queued outside Centrelink in a line over a kilometre long (what with their STAFFERS and a few cats trying desperately to avoid Little Lucy’s husband). The Cabinet Secretary was close to suicide, and a pall of smoke rose from Menzies House. Those of the Party who were left Pyned for the old days.
Was this the end of an era, the end of an Empire, the end of the Land of Nadir?
Sir Alfred thought not. There would always be a Nadir – it just depended who was the incumbent. After all, there had been a Nadir in the time of Keating. Sir Alfred didn’t like Jules of the Galliard; in fact, he hated everything she stood for and he could not stomach Prince Crispian so he was terribly frightened for the future of the land he had adopted as his own and ruled for a time. Yet he would wait with trepidation and see what that future held. Could that future see Prince Crispian lay charges over – wheat?
(Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons)