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Salient: Victoria University Students' Paper. Vol. 30, No. 7. 1967.



The Post-Budget Speech Of The Prime Minister

(For maximum effect this must be read on a cold windy night with the rain trickling in through a crack on the reader's head as he stands outside the Wellington City Council Employment Office).

My Lords, Ladles and Henchmen.

It is a great financial pleasure to be here this evening. There's nothing like a good introduction and that was nothing like a good introduction (ho, ho, chiz, chiz, burp, etc).

Well, as you all know by now, my friend and Minister of Finance, the Right Honourable Piggy, has today done a magnificent job of euthanasia on the New Zealand economy. (Kinsella bursts into tears and applauds uncontrollably). It is quite clear to me, and in this I have the full support of Mr. Holland—to name only a few, that the country is bang on the course which I predicted in my own political thesis, "Mein Klaptrap" (published by Titcombe and Wombs, price 4d).

It certainly is enthralling (Kinsella whimpers) to see the Ship of State soaring forward again on all four wheels and all six cylinders even if petrol does cost 14/6 a gallon (Muldoon busts a gut and smoke from pre-budget cigarettes puffs ominously from his left earhole). Some have said that this is a harsh budget. I can only reply that I can remember much worse ones!!! (Respectful silence shattered only by hysterical cries of "February and April '67" from Arnold Nordmeyer, who is immediately hustled from the chamber.)

Certainly the raising of Income Tax to 25/- in the pound was a stroke of genius which could well make the Honourable Minister famous wherever IBM machines are used. Already we have been swamped with requests from Unions everywhere for dartboard-sized-photographs of my colleague Piggy. They shall receive copies in his own image and triteness if we can manage it before the shilling-a-mile surcharge on letters comes in.

Obviously, they are all as delighted as I am that the new Governor-General is to be provided with another Rolls-Royce, one has to keep up with the Lennons after all (Jack Marshall turns green and vomits, somehow managing to applaud at same time).

Finally, in conclusion, to sum up, may I state quite categorically here and now that I am not, nor indeed have I ever been, a member of the Paekakariki Glee Club or any of its affiliated bodies. (This startling revelation brings the house down, and as Mr. Holyoake resumes his seat he is given a standing ovation by Dan Riddiford.)