Great song choice. But alas, not such a great ending: Burr and Hamilton later have a duel, and Burr proves a much better shot than Hamilton.
Weet-Bix was a star of the deals, but will that save it from being taxed?
One of the first material signs of the change of government from Labour to National’s coalition has come in the type of food being talked about. Nobody is talking about sausage rolls any more and instead, everybody is talking about Weet-Bix.
It had started with Act leader David Seymour describing Christopher Luxon’s announcement that negotiations over policies were completed as over-enthusiastic: “I just suspect he’s had one too many Weet-Bix.”
Luxon returned the metaphor soon after, when Seymour publicly aired his desire to be deputy PM: “[Seymour] probably got out and ate a lot of Weet-Bix this morning I’d just say.”
Whether its starring role in negotiations will save Sanitarium from paying tax is another question. It does not pay company tax because it is a charitable organisation. Changing that rule was not one of National’s plans to help fund its tax-cuts promise — but Luxon did say during the campaign he was open to looking it.
Adding to that, National now has to do without the revenue from its proposed foreign buyers tax, and a bit of revenue to plug that hole would be handy.
For those who don’t already know, giving something too much Weet-Bix or not enough Weet-Bix is usually used in sporting endeavours, such as golf, to describe when somebody puts in a bit too much effort into their shot — or not enough.
Fish heads or flowers?
Soon after Luxon inked his deal with Peters and Seymour, a large army of movers arrived at Parliament to spend the weekend moving MPs’ offices.
Labour’s team were told they had to be out by 2pm on Friday. As MPs enter their new digs, they might want to tread with care: in the past, outgoing staff and MPs have been known to leave a wee memento for their conquering rivals.
This time around, both Luxon and Hipkins were expected to at least leave a wee note for each other on their desks.
Having previously dealt with Peters in coalition, Hipkins was believed to be considering leaving Luxon a survival kit: a bottle of whisky for hosting his deputy PM, some painkillers, a box of Weet-Bix to keep Seymour fed, or a $60 supermarket voucher — the amount Luxon said he spent on shopping each week. Or perhaps it will be a merry-go-round to protect the carpets while Seymour and Peters are running circles around Luxon, as Hipkins says they will.