Dark clouds had gathered and the good Queen and her chief meteorologist addressed the nation. “A mighty rain will come and we must take precautions, tie down your trampolines, be sure to have a flashlight ready, and stay warm and dry – only travel if you have to”
The media contingent squawked at them and demanded to know if reports that the Harbour Bridge had blown away and was now surfing across the Pacific headed for Tahiti were true.
The chief meteorologist looked perplexed and assured them that although there was a risk of closure that the Harbour Bridge did, and would, remain standing. He did wonder where they got these questions from.
Sober Bazza, the alpha member of the pack, asked if there would be bans on Al Fresco dining again. The good Queen looked perplexed and said Bazza if you want to eat outdoors in the middle of a gale you’re free to do so.
He was quite pleased with that answer, he’d been expecting a discount on the Super Old card but not a free lunch – he did like a free lunch and had often enjoyed them in the past although less often under the current leadership he noted.
The people heard the proclamations and some of them glanced out the window, saw the advancing storm, said fair enough and went off to tie down their garden furniture.
Some other people said we don’t trust this information, we’ve done our research and we know this is all a conspiracy on behalf of Big Umbrella. We’re not doing what you tell us, we’re going to have a BBQ and maybe a swim later if it gets too warm.
The rain began to fall and it kept on falling, lights flickered as power was interrupted, torrents of water crashed against window panes and in the largest centre some deck chairs were blown over.
A bedraggled man wearing a novelty apron, a pair of stubbies, and some jandals appeared on the news carrying BBQ tongs. “Yeah, I’m pretty pissed off he said – why didn’t anyone say it was going to rain, now we’ve got soggy sausages and it’s all the fault of that woman”.
BBQ tong man wasn’t always comfortable speaking to, or about the fairer sex. He did appreciate the cups of tea and all the looking after the kids but really he wasn’t a fan of actual conversation with them. It didn’t seem natural, not like heating meat and talking about the big game with the boys.
The man preparing the team for the next big game looked nervously as the weather unraveled faster than last week’s game plan. Fozzie, the coach, wondered if it might rain so much that the game was called off, he crossed his fingers – no one could say he was out of his depth if the pitch were under water.
Across the Motu people watched the skies wearily.
Pastor Brian stared out the window and declared that all this rain was a sign of god’s displeasure and he did commence a long confession to say it was him, he’d organized all the previous protests on other matters.
He implored the Density congregation to give generously until it hurt and then give a little more. Protests were the only way to stop this thing, and donations – mainly donations.
And lo it rained for 40 days and 40 nights and although the water lay upon the land the farmers did declare that this was an in fact a drought and they would need to increase their water allotment in order to get through. Apparently the rivers needed diluting after all that run off.
David, the seer of more, did say that into each life a little rain must fall and it was their responsibly to deal with it. Unless you’re a business with investors in which case the government should be there for you.
Acts of god should not impact balance sheets, if there was one thing the founders of the Assets Savings and Stocks party believed it was that.
The new messiah, who had just returned from a long and fruitless journey to far off lands, saw an opportunity. He said people were sick of warnings they just wanted to get on with life; the time for listening to daily forecasts was past.
Up north a beady eye peered out at the flooding and wondered if this was a wave he could ride back into parliament, the papers said he was up to 4% in the polls. He posted online that the good Queen had probably seeded the clouds, which she wouldn’t have been able to do if he was there beside her.
He decided he would greet the group of protesters outside of parliament with their placards saying “Rain is Communism”, “Meteorology is witchcraft”, and “You can’t tell me to wear a rain coat”.
Above the protest on the balcony of parliament an inebriated Speaker, who had been on the Guinness with Irish supports since the last big game, danced a jig while singing “It’s raining, Its pouring…”.
When he finished the song he gave the protesters the fingers and marched down to the police cordon to ask if he could have a go with the water cannon.
And then the rain stopped.
The good Queen announced that the sky was clearing, the plants had been watered, it would all be OK. And some of the people looked out the window and saw the rays of sunshine emerging and they saw it was all good.
But others said “what does a girlie that worked in a fish and chip shop know about the weather?” and they cursed her as they heated their meat in the oven.
Take care all of you lovely people, may all your sausages stay warm and dry and your trampolines survive to bounce another day.
Gosh I enjoyed reading this ... had a real chuckle. Very witty - thanks Nick.
Thank you for the laughs you summed it up very well ):