Jim Hopkins: The street where Cup bids runneth over

We present another episode of the long-running TV soap opera featuring numerous bids, bods, odds and sods, including the tireless Dr Pita "Ena" Sharples, Jonathan the Mucky Coal Man (definitely singing off-Key) and several other Pratts.

Scene One

Snug in the Snug, Dr "Ena" Sharples stroked the beautifully woven flax hairnet that had become his trademark.

"Ee, bai kauri gum, I think we've won," he said, supping a pint of Tui's brown ale. "I've pulled such a fast one 'ere, you could call me Nick and put me in charge of ACC!"

"I 'ope so," replied Hone Haileycropper. "We've won nowt. Coalition's fine, but we're as scoreless as the All Whites in Bahrain."

"Manamana," Dr Ena added helpfully.

"It's not Muppets' songs we're after, y' daft ha'p'orth," yelled Hone. "It's the World Cup!"

"Different Manamana," sighed Ena. "Speaking of which, if my secret scheme succeeds and we win the day, it will double the mana of Maori TV. It'll be mana mana for them. And for us." He paused. "Fancy some pork scratchings?"

"What race is that?" inquired Hone, bewildered again.

Scene Two

Meanwhile, on t' other side of snug, two TVNZ executives were tuckin' into a plate of rissoles thoughtfully left there by the late Minnie Caldwell.

"I've got a plan," chortled Alice from TV Onederland. "I'll show that Minister. I'll show 'im ACC aren't the only ones who've pulled a financial hammie and come down wi' a bulging budget groin strain."

"How?" inquired Henry Paul, who'd always wanted to be a breakfast host.

"Simple," said Alice. "We won't put in a bid. None!"

"Brilliant," guffawed Henry, energetically twirling someone else's moustache. "Ummm ... I don't get it."

"And neither will we, y' pillock. If we don't bid, we can't win the hugely expensive free-to-air rights for t' Rugby World Cup, can we?

"Noooooooo," said Henry, puzzled. "But don't we want them?"

"Course we do!" snapped Alice. "And this way, we'll get 'em. When the Coal Man drops a tonne of nutty slack on our 'eads and wants to know 'ow this disaster's 'appened, I'll say, 'Sorry, Minister, but we're ACC wi' pictures, sir. Broke as a physiotherapist wi'out so much as a tube of liniment to rub together."'

"And ... ?"

"And then he'll do what ministers always do. He'll find sum extra dosh and we'll have enough money to screen all the big games and pay Keith Quinn to be our sideline eye in te reo!"

"Where's that?" Henry meekly inquired.

Scene Three

Meanwhile, on t' other t' other side of snug, Mr Coal Man and Mully McCurry, Koro Street's very own Indian dairy owner, were also huddled together.

"I don't care if we 'ave got a $10.5 billion deficit," said the Coal Man. "I don't care if our Bill says he'll need to borrow $250,000,000 a week for the next four years ..."

"I thought he'd sorted the housing business out," said Mully.

"Focus!" yelled the Coal Man, boxing his colleague's ears with a kipper. "I don't care about the fiscal mess. I'm getting more tax money from the gummint to fund a new bid for the Rights that will trump the old bid from them Maori TV geezers what were funded by tax money from the gummint what no one knew about in the first place. Is that clear?"

"Ummm," mumbled Mully. "Oh look," he said, distracted. "There, in the corner, 'aving a shandy wi' Norris Cole. Isn't that Chris Carter?"

"Bai'eck," said the Coal Man, "that lad gets about."

Scene Four

Dr Sharples and Hone walked past the table where Mully and the Coal Man were huddled. "I 'ope he doesn't find out about my cunning plan to use extra money from Te Pune Kokere to help our bid," said Sharples.

"You've not said owt, 'ave ya?" gasped Hone.

"Of course not," said Ena. "I've not told anyone. I'm a Cabinet Minister, remember?"

Scene Five

"I 'ope he doesn't find out about my cunning plan to use extra money to trump his cunning plan to use extra money," whispered Jonathan.

"You've not said owt, 'ave ya?" gasped Mully.

"Of course not," said Coal Man. "I've not told anyone. I'm a Cabinet Minister, remember?"

Scene Six

On top of the Underworld Beehive, new boss Johnny Key (played by the ageless Ken Barlow) was watching a Letterman replay when an official rushed in.

"News Flash, PM! And the news isn't flash, I'm afraid."

"Don't tell me Sue Bradford's changed 'er mind!" snapped Johnny.

"Worse, sir. It seems our Ena and young Jonathan 'ave been secretly outbidding each other wi' taxpayer's money so that one gummint-owned TV channel rather than t' other gets them bleedin' World Cup rights!"

J.K. stroked his manly jaw. "When you say 'taxpayer's money', is that the taxpayer who'll soon be paying hundred of dollars more every year for their compulsory ACC levies?"

The official nodded.

"And does that taxpayer know what's going on?"

The official nodded.

"In that case, we 'ave got a problem. Tell 'em both we're taking a commercial break now! And that I'll write them out of this bleedin' soap opera if they're nowt careful." He paused.

"Thank 'eavens this is just a TV show and not real life!" The camera zooms on to his worried face as the credits roll and the familiar music swells.