Lovely

The other day in Orange – a town that’s halfway to nowhere – they threw a guy in prison for treason. The media had a field day with the story, and what did he do? According to one broadcaster he “painted Orange yellow.”

A newspaper harked “Outrage in Orange,” calling for the reinstatement of capital punishment.

There mustn’t have been much going on that day, because what the guy did was hardly treason. He didn’t sell confidential information to the Russians; he didn’t supply assault weapons to terrorist organisations; and he didn’t run a radio show that spread North Korean propaganda.

The saga begins before the guy was even born. When the Queen came to Orange in the seventies, the town was thriving. Her Majesty had asked to be taken to a regional centre in Australia to get down and dirty with the locals. She wanted to see the cogs and gears that ran the country, and the fridge factory was the way to see it.

The town kicked into gear and tidied up. For many, it was the highlight of their lives. The Queen and her haughty entourage visited the factory as planned, and her impressions are now inscribed in bronze, in stone, and they emblazon every letter head that the factory sent out over the next four decades.

“It’s lovely.” – HRH Queen Elizabeth II

The factory closed in 2016 and it was like the town lost a father. Can you imagine the police sergeant’s alarm last Saturday night when he noticed a drunk relieving himself on the old electrical sub-station wall? An essential appendage of the venerable lifeblood of the town was being desecrated by an overindulgent piss-head!

Of course, the treason charge didn’t stand but a valuable lesson was learned: never pee on a “lovely” brick wall.

T.

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