Benexit Campaign Officially Launched

By on June 26, 2016
The exit of Bendigo from Australia would see the creation of Gladstone as the new municipality.

In the bowels of the Shamrock, or is it bowls – I keep getting those two mixed up (would it be bowls?) Bendigo’s Concerned Citizens Council held an announcement.

“It’s time Bendigo seized control of its destiny,” stated Mr Name Withheld, his voice muffled by a facemask that had a Thomas the Tank Engine patten on it.

Eight or nine members of the CCC were on hand to support their Grand High Head Honcho, exact numbers were hard ’cause some guy kept coming in and out of the room.

“We want to exit Asia in the soccer, exit Europe in the song contest, and exit Australia in the legal system!”

This sentence got mixed applause. The soccer jib threw a few people.

“First it was coordinating road construction, then it was proving a hospital, next it will be telling us what side of their road we can flipping well drive on!”

Better applause here. The swearing and vehement got people back.

“They say if we smoke a cigarette the o-zone layer is going to collapse. Well I got news for them. It isn’t!”

Best applause yet. He’s found his rhythm.

“It’s time to rid ourselves of this nonsense and have Bendigo exhumed from the rotting carcass of left-wing, fascist Australia!”

Strong applause. Good vehement.

“We should be keeping Bendigo for Bendigoeians, oeans, ieoans, Susan what is it?”

A woman at the back of the room calls back, “Bendigonians.”

“Bendigonians. There!”

Mr Withheld picks up a notebook and marks Xs on a page.

“We’re going to put checkpoints here, and here, and here,” he holds up the page – one suspects if Blackboard was in the room the words “Upside down, upside down” would have been heard.

“And we’ll charge a $15 toll for anyone wanting to pass though, with a ten day visa wait for no particular reason. I flipping hate visas!”

Uncertain clapping. Someone asks if there is food being provided.

“No,” says Mr Withheld.

There are eight people in the room, no, wait, seven, six, five.

Mr Withheld puts the notebook down.

There’s a picture of a bowel of fruit on the cover, or is it a bowl?

“It’s not compulsory voting so we can do it now with a show of hands.”

Mr Withheld and Susan put a hand up. An insecure person next to them adds another vote.

“Amendment passed. I’ll start on the toll booths tomorrow.”

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