Rolling Christopher Luxon? Part One.

Things look shaky in Wellington, with a high chance of spills.

The knife came in the morning. Not in the shape of a cold steel blade between the shoulders, nor a blow to the skull from a cosh, but in the form of an interview.

Nikki was being interviewed on RNZ, supposedly about the cost of living and taxes. That bloody Kim Hill it was. He clenched his small soft hands into fists when he thought of her - too bloody intelligent for a reporter he always said. Truth is she scared the shit out of him. Christopher did not like intelligent women - and now it looked like one wanted his job.

“Do you have confidence in your leader Ms Willis?” Kim asked her. Using that ridiculous salutation to disrespect Nicola’s status as a married heterosexual wife and mother. Chris was angry before the answer even came.

Nikki replied, not with a “Chris is going to be a great Prime Minister”, or even a “Christopher is doing the hardest job in politics”. No, she replied with the kiss of death, the betrayal of Brutus - “the leader has my 100% support”. Chris spat his Earl Grey across the Koru lounge in surprise at the brutality of the “100%” declaration of war.

Photo: RNZ / Angus Dreaver

A young woman rushed over with a handful of paper towels to wipe the floor. She grimaced when she saw who he was. Chris thought she looked vaguely familiar. He had a brief recollection of having screamed at her in the past when she’d given him a plain Coke rather than delicious Coke Zero Sugar. She’d been demoted from flight crew for that. Chris thought to himself - she was bloody lucky to still have a job!

The boarding call came. Chris pushed past others waiting to the head of the queue so he would board first - the quicker he got to Wellington to put a stop to this, the better.

He strapped on his safety belt and sat waiting for others to board. He checked his messages, which were surprisingly few. Someone touched his arm indicating they wanted to get past for the next seat As if things weren’t already going badly that day it was Judith Collins. She smiled at him, “hello Chris, I am looking forward to caucus this afternoon” she purred as if she knew something.

He smiled back and considered whether to ask her what was going on. He decided that the element of surprise was better retained. If he discussed it with Judith she might let something slip, but it did mean that by the time they landed every member of caucus, and the waiting press pack, would know that he knew.

So he played it cool and asked whether her basement had been flooded. It was well known that Cameron Slater had been living down there - mostly because Judith couldn’t keep anything quiet. “No leaks with me”, she laughed.

It was a packed flight, all the backlog from the storm. The Prime Minister was across the aisle, he smiled and nodded - the prick. Luxon wondered if there would be many smiles for him in the caucus room. A message popped up on his phone “You got this big fella”, crikey even Mike Hosking knew what was happening. He could’ve bloody mentioned it thought Chris.

This made him angrier, he thought of the times that he and Mandy had shared with Mike and Kate. They were like family, or so he thought - now it seemed so artificial.

Tom Lee/Stuff

The warm handshakes and pats on the back he got the day before when he went into Newstalk ZB. Kerre and Heather had even dressed as cheerleaders and jumped up and down with Pom Poms when he arrived. And all the while they knew but didn’t say anything. It seemed so unfair, thought Chris, normally they didn’t know but said things anyway. Why the hell couldn’t he have a caucus as unquestioning as the Newstalk ZB audience?

As the aircraft levelled out the hostess offered refreshments. Chris declined the offering. Judith laughed “no last meal?”, before adding “before we get to Wellington I mean”. She let out a cackling, gurgling sound as if Rob Muldoon was using mouth wash while someone told him a joke.

Judith pocketed his snack too putting it into her large handbag, “I’ll take this home for Cameron, pays to keep him fed otherwise he gets a bit surly”. Christopher smiled at her then closed his eyes and waited for the descent.

Of course the media were waiting to pounce on him as he arrived. “What will you be discussing in caucus this morning Mr Luxon?” asked Jessica smiling pleasantly. He was kind of wondering that himself, he didn’t know today was definitely the day, just that it was coming.

One more bad poll he thought and they’ll come for me. He imagined himself having to stand before Jessica and give the “in the best interests of the party I’ve decided to spend more time with family” speech. His stomach churned and he hoped it wasn’t audible.

“Oh, just the usual Jess”, he grinned “making sure we’ve got all our ducks in a row”. His stomach grumbled more. He wished they were just having the usual caucus meeting. He could do with a couple of hours of listening to Maureen Pugh talk about curing bunions by applying whitebait.

No wonder there is a shortage he thought, Maureen’s answer to everything was whitebait. It crossed his mind that if things went badly he might be ranked lower than Maureen by the end of the day. He wondered if he had time to sit on the loo for a bit.

There was a strange looking man, obviously wearing a fake nose, beard, and glasses, holding a sign that said “Christopher Luxon”. Definitely not his usual driver, but there was something familiar about this new one.

As he got closer the man said, in an appalling French accent, “Listen carefully, I will say this only once”. Chris clicked immediately, despite the disguise and the fake voice it was obviously John Key. The man embraced him extravagantly, kissing him on each cheek in the European style. With the first kiss he said “today is definitely the day”, and with the second “she’s got the numbers”.

Luxon pulled away in fright and blathered “but what can I do, how can I stop it?” Key looked him in the eye, he looked sad as though the prodigal son had been a great disappointment to him. “The god squad, trust them you must”, he said enigmatically. The god squad referred to the fundamentalists in caucus, Penk, Brown, and O’Connor. As popular as a contagious dermatological condition, but a powerful voting block.

“Mr Luxon, Mr Luxon”, a voice was yelling to him urgently. It was his regular driver and he was ripping duct tape off his wrists and sporting a black eye. When Chris looked back John had gone there was just a pair of novelty glasses with a fake nose on the ground. It crossed his mind that perhaps he should pick them up.

Christopher followed the driver to a Mercedes that was right outside in a disabled parking spot. Chris Bishop was leaning against the car smoking. He exhaled smoke from his nostrils, holding the cigarette purposefully with the tips of his fingers and thumb. “So Lux, we doing this the easy way, or the hard way?”

Next: Part two - working the phones, counting the numbers.