"Hi, Lucky, time to kick some ass."
"What’s this ‘Lucky’ business?"
"Well, you’re lucky to be boss of the National Party after five minutes in politics and your name is Luxon. Easy."
"I’m Chris to my friends and Mr Luxon to everyone else. And for people like you the word is ‘Sir’. Let’s stick to that."
"OK. OK. Keep your hair on, what you’ve got of it. I’m here to make you prime minister. So you’ll be calling me ‘Sir’ after the election."
"I doubt it. What’s your plan? And less of the ‘kick some ass’ business. You’re in Wellington, not the White House."
"And you’re lucky — oops, I mean fortunate that I am, because my plan will have you in the top job come Christmas. You’ll think all your birthdays have come at once!"
"There’s only one birthday that matters at Christmas and kindly remember that."
"Sure. Sure. But, with all due respect, let me tell you to dump all this Christian stuff. The country is pretty well atheist and that’s where the votes are. I’m an atheist myself, thank God, so I can ignore all that church nonsense."
"Let’s just leave God out of this. It’s only an election, not Genesis."
"There you go again, Sir. Mention the Bible during the campaign and they’ll crucify you. Stick to the real world. That means picking up a few more seats and leaving Chippy choking on your dust. The plan is to come down real heavy on a couple of so-called Labour seats and give them socialists a real kick — oops, there I go again. Give them a smack on the bottom."
"What seats should we target, then?"
"Two little beauties the Labour gang usually ignore. Complacency will be their downfall but on election night it will come back to bite them on the, umm, bottom. You, Sir, will see two new National MPs lining up at the trough this time next year. The wildly popular and modestly overjoyed new National members for Dunedin North and Dunedin South! How does that grab you?"
"Good grief. Those seats have been Labour as long as I can remember."
"Well, Sir, you are a young man and your memory goes back not too far. Take Dunedin North. National won the seat with Richard Walls in 1975 when you were in the first grade at school. And we’ll do it again once you put my plan into action."
"And Dunedin South? That’s the reddest spot on the map. Anyway. It’s Taieri now isn’t it?"
"Exactly, Sir. But the electorate’s now a lot more rural. A shade of blue creeping in and lots more doddery geriatrics. We’ll walk in."
"What have older people got to do with it?"
"Aw, come on, Sir. Old people get sick. Old people need hospitals. Are you with me?"
"Not really. You’d better explain."
"Right. Now listen up. We take those two seats by sorting out this Dunedin Hospital shambles. Labour made the big mistake of promising too much and then having to cut back. Bad move. But it’s just what we need. The people in those electorates, both jampacked with physical wrecks of pensioners crying out for this hospital to be built, and built to meet their requirements. No bed-sharing and no long waits for nose jobs. No, a big, beautiful hospital provided on time by a caring National government. If that don’t work then my name ain’t Mac E. Valli. Those two seats will be yours. You’ll have a majority government. Three years to do any damn thing you want. How does that grab you, Lucky?"
"It’s ‘Sir’, remember. So how do we perform this miracle?"
"Miracle? I thought we wanted religion out of it. Look, all you do is set up a couple of candidates who’ve never been MPs and so haven’t messed the nest yet. Send them the hymn sheet. ‘National’s Promise. Let’s Make it $2billion. $3billion. The Hospital Dunedin Deserves! Vote for Me!’ A piece of the proverbial, eh?"
"You’re suggesting I promise something that probably won’t be affordable?"
"Affordable? Hell, it’s taxpayers’ money. It’s yours to spend. If the going gets tough just slow things down. Maybe, slice off an operating theatre or two."
"But that’s what Labour have had to do."
"Yeah, but you won’t be doing it in an election year."
"All the same, I’d be breaking a promise. Can’t do that."
"Sir, you’re a young man, new to politics, but you must know that an election promise is not a real promise. It’s just another word for a bribe and when it comes to bribery, I’m your man. How do you think Trump ever became president?
"Thanks for you input, Mr Valli. Goodbye."
■Jim Sullivan is a Patearoa writer.
