Governor General Fic
Jul. 22nd, 2003 06:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
melwilAs promised, Governor General fic. This was written in the height of the GG controversy. Enjoy.
In all honesty, Sir Guy was rather looking forward to retirement. Despite the cold (and the winks and jokes one got when travelling interstate), Tasmania was really quite a nice place to spend one's twilight years.
But instead he was here, in Canberra (Sir Guy shuddered), with a spiffy new job title. And he was going to be sharing house with . . . him.
'Him' was presently acting as an oversized barrier against Sir Guy's smooth transition into the bog house. Propped up in a hammock, dressed in a tatty pair of maroon shorts, 'he' waved at Sir Guy with his free hand (the other hand presently occupied with a semi filled martini glass).
"Oh hi, oh hi," 'he' said. 'He' waved again. "Johnny Boy said someone would be by soon. He said to me, he said, 'look out, someone will be by soon'. And here you are. What do you think about that?"
Sir Guy took his hand rather gingerly. "Hello Peter," he said with all the pomp he could muster.
Peter grabbed his hand roughly and pulled Sir Guy closer. "No, no, no. It's not Peter. It's Dr Pete." He sipped from the martini glass, and then whispered close to Sir Guy's ear. "I'm a doctor, you know. Would you like me to take your temperature?"
"No!" Sir Guy pulled his hand away, before briefly wondering if that was the proper composed thing to do. "I'm sorry, Dr Pete. But I'm sure my temperature is just fine. I am Sir Guy. Administrator of the Commenwealth." After all, what was the use of having a really excellent title if you didn't get to throw it around?
"Oh," Dr Pete's face fell. "You're that bloke who's here to replace me, aren't you? I don't think I'm going to like you very much."
"Now, now." Sir Guy patted him gingerly on the shoulder. "I don't like to think of it as replacing you. I'm just here to assist you. Just while you take some time to . . . relax."
"Oh!" Dr Pete looked happier. "I can relax. And Johnny Boy told me I should ponder on my previous actions."
Sir Guy raised an eyebrow. "Where did he get that from?"
"Oprah, I think. Or Judge Judy. He wasn't that clear on the specifics." Dr Pete guzzled the remainder of his martini and gazed out over the green lawns of the big house. "Or maybe Phillip Ruddock said it to Alexander Downer. You can never tell with those two."
"Hmm." Sir Guy tried to look disinterested. "So, Dr Pete. What can you tell me about your job?"
Dr Pete stared blankly. "My job?"
"Yes." Sir Guy prodded him gently in the side. "You know, Dr Pete. What do you do?"
Dr Pete held up a finger and Sir Guy could almost see a light bulb glowing above his head. "Oh, you want to know about the stuff I do! Well that's easy." He began ticking them off on his fingers. "I watch Play School in the morning so I can understand young minds. Then Johnny Boy comes over after his exercise and he throws a ball for me to catch. I like the footballs the best, but Johnny Boy prefers throwing hard cricket balls at me, and those Brisbane Lions don't come around as much as they used to."
Sir Guy gaped at him. "What else do you do?"
Dr Pete smiled. "Well Johnny Boy has to go and talk to George and Tony around lunchtime, so that's when I take my siesta. I just lay out here, very comfortable, and I drink pretty drinks until I fall asleep. The Johnny Boy comes back after dinner and we do shots together. You know," he lowered his voice, "once Johnny bought over jelly and it had vodka in it. Alcohol you can eat. Amazing." He raised his voice again. "That's why Johnny Boy and I are such good mates."
"Dr Pete," Sir Guy said, "do you actually do any work here?"
"Work? No!" Dr Pete threw his head back and laughed. "Johnny Boy told me there was a manual, you know, but he never bothered to give it to me. He told me, you know, he said: 'I'll worry about the whole running the country stuff. You just relax.' So I do."
"Hmm." Sir Guy was speechless.
"Oh! Look!" Dr Pete jumped up and began waving his arms about. "Look, Sir Guy, look. Johnny Boy's here! He's making a special visit. In the afternoon and all." He glared at Sir Guy. "You must be very important; he's never done that for me before."
Sir Guy stood up straight and glared at Dr Pete. "I am Sir Guy, Administrator of the Commonwealth. And you, dear Doctor, are a bufoon!"
The End
In all honesty, Sir Guy was rather looking forward to retirement. Despite the cold (and the winks and jokes one got when travelling interstate), Tasmania was really quite a nice place to spend one's twilight years.
But instead he was here, in Canberra (Sir Guy shuddered), with a spiffy new job title. And he was going to be sharing house with . . . him.
'Him' was presently acting as an oversized barrier against Sir Guy's smooth transition into the bog house. Propped up in a hammock, dressed in a tatty pair of maroon shorts, 'he' waved at Sir Guy with his free hand (the other hand presently occupied with a semi filled martini glass).
"Oh hi, oh hi," 'he' said. 'He' waved again. "Johnny Boy said someone would be by soon. He said to me, he said, 'look out, someone will be by soon'. And here you are. What do you think about that?"
Sir Guy took his hand rather gingerly. "Hello Peter," he said with all the pomp he could muster.
Peter grabbed his hand roughly and pulled Sir Guy closer. "No, no, no. It's not Peter. It's Dr Pete." He sipped from the martini glass, and then whispered close to Sir Guy's ear. "I'm a doctor, you know. Would you like me to take your temperature?"
"No!" Sir Guy pulled his hand away, before briefly wondering if that was the proper composed thing to do. "I'm sorry, Dr Pete. But I'm sure my temperature is just fine. I am Sir Guy. Administrator of the Commenwealth." After all, what was the use of having a really excellent title if you didn't get to throw it around?
"Oh," Dr Pete's face fell. "You're that bloke who's here to replace me, aren't you? I don't think I'm going to like you very much."
"Now, now." Sir Guy patted him gingerly on the shoulder. "I don't like to think of it as replacing you. I'm just here to assist you. Just while you take some time to . . . relax."
"Oh!" Dr Pete looked happier. "I can relax. And Johnny Boy told me I should ponder on my previous actions."
Sir Guy raised an eyebrow. "Where did he get that from?"
"Oprah, I think. Or Judge Judy. He wasn't that clear on the specifics." Dr Pete guzzled the remainder of his martini and gazed out over the green lawns of the big house. "Or maybe Phillip Ruddock said it to Alexander Downer. You can never tell with those two."
"Hmm." Sir Guy tried to look disinterested. "So, Dr Pete. What can you tell me about your job?"
Dr Pete stared blankly. "My job?"
"Yes." Sir Guy prodded him gently in the side. "You know, Dr Pete. What do you do?"
Dr Pete held up a finger and Sir Guy could almost see a light bulb glowing above his head. "Oh, you want to know about the stuff I do! Well that's easy." He began ticking them off on his fingers. "I watch Play School in the morning so I can understand young minds. Then Johnny Boy comes over after his exercise and he throws a ball for me to catch. I like the footballs the best, but Johnny Boy prefers throwing hard cricket balls at me, and those Brisbane Lions don't come around as much as they used to."
Sir Guy gaped at him. "What else do you do?"
Dr Pete smiled. "Well Johnny Boy has to go and talk to George and Tony around lunchtime, so that's when I take my siesta. I just lay out here, very comfortable, and I drink pretty drinks until I fall asleep. The Johnny Boy comes back after dinner and we do shots together. You know," he lowered his voice, "once Johnny bought over jelly and it had vodka in it. Alcohol you can eat. Amazing." He raised his voice again. "That's why Johnny Boy and I are such good mates."
"Dr Pete," Sir Guy said, "do you actually do any work here?"
"Work? No!" Dr Pete threw his head back and laughed. "Johnny Boy told me there was a manual, you know, but he never bothered to give it to me. He told me, you know, he said: 'I'll worry about the whole running the country stuff. You just relax.' So I do."
"Hmm." Sir Guy was speechless.
"Oh! Look!" Dr Pete jumped up and began waving his arms about. "Look, Sir Guy, look. Johnny Boy's here! He's making a special visit. In the afternoon and all." He glared at Sir Guy. "You must be very important; he's never done that for me before."
Sir Guy stood up straight and glared at Dr Pete. "I am Sir Guy, Administrator of the Commonwealth. And you, dear Doctor, are a bufoon!"
The End
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no subject
on 2003-07-22 02:41 am (UTC)Hmm, have you seen this? You might enjoy it.
no subject
on 2003-07-22 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-07-22 02:49 am (UTC)Also thinking along the lines of AA Milne's "Bad Sir Brian Botany"...I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion, take that, and that, and THAT.
Hehe
no subject
on 2003-07-22 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-07-22 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-07-22 03:35 pm (UTC)(Second, assuming it was me you meant! If not, blushing in shame and embarassment!)
Third - thanks. I'll take it you approve :-)
Fourth - cool icon yourself!
no, i did mean you
on 2003-07-23 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2003-07-22 07:28 am (UTC)I was about to friend you before I read this but now your fate is really sealed ;)
And, hi.
no subject
on 2003-07-22 09:17 pm (UTC)