"The Queen rode to the Shire of Northland to spread her love among the peasants." Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern in Kawakawa. Photo / Michael Cunningham
OPINION:
MONDAY
Royal trumpets blared as the royal god made her entrance into the royal caucus. "Announcing," cried a royal brown nose, "the Queen of the Hermit Kingdom, First of Her Name, Protector of the Realm, Mother of Neve, Clarke's Missus, Minister of Secrets, Graduate of the Malignant Brotherhood ofthe International Union of Socialist Youth!"
Her royal lapdogs bent the knee.
She rode an elevator that took her to the throne, sat upon hand-sewn cushions made of finest merino, and looked down upon her advisers.
"Well, the Shire of Auckland is dark, and full of terrors," said the Maester of Spin, Andrew of House Campbell. "Best to avoid it as long as possible."
"All good," she said. "But what shall we do about the peasantry's desire to cross the Auckland border at Christmas?"
Maester of Physick, Chris of House Hipkins, stood and waved a chart. It had many rulings, was colour-coded in felt tip, and the writing was tiny and crabbed. "Forsooth," he piped, "is a roadmap that sets out exactly when each peasant can cross the border and for how many minutes. It is my masterpiece."
Maester of Coin, Grant of House Robertson, responded with a loud, flatulent blast.
TUESDAY
The Queen rode to the Shire of Northland to spread her love among the peasants. Her travels throughout the Kingdom always met with vast success. Peasants from every shire flocked to see her, and to catch a glimpse of that shining proof of the Queen's divinity – her Halo.
"Here," she announced, stepping from her carriage in Kawakawa, "I am."
But there was shouting, and sheer impertinence.
The Queen hurried back inside her carriage. She took off her Halo, and inspected it.
"Do you think it's losing some of its lustre?" she asked Maester of Something or Other, Kelvin of House Davies.
He bent the knee, a difficult task to perform in the carriage, and swore undying allegiance.
"Yes, yes," she said, but she noted he didn't answer the question.
The Queen rode to the Shire of Whanganui, where things were a lot worse. A crowd of about 200 chanted angry slogans and showed her no respect, no loyalty, and, most stunning of all, no love.
Her advisers received news from ravens that her reception in the Shire of Hunterville would be more of the same.
The Queen hurried back inside her carriage. She took off her Halo, and inspected it.
It was dark in the carriage. Ordinarily her Halo shone like a torch. But now she could barely see it.
THURSDAY
"Prime Sinister!", screeched some guy from some bulls*** operation.
"Grinch!" jeered Judith of House Collins, leader of the Blue Rabble, whose function was to stand on the sidelines and moan.
"The boom run's over!" warned Exiled King John Key, still thought of far and wide as the one true royal god.
"My pick is she won't be bothered with seeing things through to the next election with declining support. The international scene beckons, family life beckons, celebrity stardom and adoration outside of politics beckons. Time will tell, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if she exits stage left," railed Kate of Houses Hawkesby and Hosking.
FRIDAY
The Queen wandered alone into the royal caucus and tried to ride the elevator. But it was broken. Wearily, she climbed the stairs to the throne room and sat down. But someone had swiped the cushions.
She heard footsteps. It was the Maester of Spin.
"Your Grace," said Andrew of House Campbell, "you actually had best go to the Shire of Auckland next week."
"Yeah, whatever," she said. "Get the carriage ready. Also a speech. And the Halo - has it been restored to its fullest majestic and bedazzling illumination?"
"The carriage is ready," he said, but she noted he didn't answer the question.