Politics

We Made An Election Campaign Bingo, And If We Win, We All Lose!

Election Bingo

There are five weeks until the federal election — and the end of the worst timeline that is Australia’s 45th parliament — on Saturday 18 May. Many are exhaling a sigh of relief that the date has finally been called and the end is in sight. ‘How much can really go wrong in the next five weeks?’, you may be wondering.

The answer is: a lot. So let’s do what us millennials, the proud heirs of a burning world, love to do most: gamify our imminent doom and have a few laughs while we still can.

Let’s Play Election Bingo™

The rules are simple. Mark off each of the following scenarios between now and the election. If you cross them all out, you can drink some celebratory cyanide!

  • A surprisingly lifelike wax figure of John Howard is wheeled out to great acclaim. You overhear whispers that he is the only one who can truly save the election.
  • Electric vehicles rise up and take over the roads. Millions of Australians are forced to catch trains instead of driving, which conveniently shifts the force of anger to state governments. The Coalition decides that electric vehicles are alright after all.
  • A besuited politician has a beer in a pub, surrounded by tradies. He is laughing but you can see the fear in his eyes. Is working class-dom contagious?
  • A huge chunk of Australia’s coastline literally falls off under the pressures of climate change. Peter Dutton says that’s what happens when we allow refugees to weaken our borders.
  • Australia gets its very own Joe Biden when a party leader goes to kiss a baby’s head and misses, instead taking the opportunity for a deep scalp sniff.
  • A party that gave us three Prime Ministers in as many years claims that only it can deliver “strong and stable government”.
  • “Working families” take centre stage and perform a snazzy jazz number. Families relying on Newstart sit begging on the pavement outside the theatre.
  • Pauline Hanson’s tick and appendix are seen running away together towards the sunset.
  • Aboriginal communities once again rejoice at being referred to as “our First Peoples”. Elders everywhere wish they could perform a Fuck Off From Country ceremony.
  • Scott Morrison holds a press conference and refuses to answer a single question from journalists, complaining that the line of questioning is simply not “fair dinkum”.
  • A picture can speak a thousand words. Penny Wong says nothing, but the look on her face rivals a Dostoyevsky novel.
  • A parade of self-funded retirees graces the front pages of several News Corp newspapers, appalled that Labor want to tax their retirement. Within 24 hours, they have all been revealed to be members of the Liberal Party.
  • Jordon Steele-John holds an event to try to bring some attention – please, just some attention – back to the Disability Royal Commission. He is unable to get into the venue as they didn’t think to provide an accessible entrance.
  • The Canberra bubble pops, spreading a thick film of mucus over the entire Australian mainland.
  • Mark Latham is legally forced to retract one statement per week in the lead-up to the election.
  • Australians of all stripes find common ground at last, as they come together to decipher what “if you have a go, you’ll get a go” means. (Really though, what does it mean?)
  • The Greens are revealed to be the most pressing existential threat to the Australian way of life. We can’t say exactly what will happen if they gain more power, but it’s sure to be unspeakably terrible.
  • Barnaby Joyce breaks the world record for the reddest white man.
  • A literal neo-Nazi is credulously interviewed by the ABC. Andrew Bolt holds this up as an example of the national broadcaster’s left leanings (because national socialist!).
  • Scott Morrison’s smirk slumps so far down the side of his face that he is checked for a stroke.
  • A women’s magazine interprets Australian politics through the lens of Julie Bishop’s shoes.
  • It is revealed that the first ever photograph of a black hole is actually a picture of Australia. Go figure.
  • Tony Abbott discovers the sharing economy.
  • A prominent progressive loudly proclaims they are moving to New Zealand if the Coalition is re-elected. Several other progressives agree. They each pay another instalment on the mortgage for their Sydney house.
  • Georgina Downer branches out from giant cheques, splashing her face on several other giant objects (none of which she has actually paid for).
  • Every single Coalition cabinet member suddenly has an insufferable nickname. The Press Gallery immediately adopts these nicknames without question.
  • Clive Palmer is pictured with his thumbs up the arses of every former employee of Queensland Nickel.
  • A politician tells a blind, deaf and mentally ill amputee in a wheelchair that “the best form of welfare is a job”.
  • Bill Shorten announces a progressive policy. He retracts it within 48 hours after mild pushback.
  • Captain GetUp and his band of sidekicks, now numbering in the dozens, get an offer for a children’s TV program from Sky.
  • Kristina Kenneally is unable to physically appear at any campaign events; she is needed on Twitter, where she is shutting down every single Government policy, in alphabetical order, via threaded tweet.

Election Day Bonus Round

  • Upon catching sight of the names on the ballot paper, several Australians collapse from the sheer weight of merit.
  • On election night, the camera cuts to Perth and the sun is still out. The east coast wishes they would get their act together so this can all be over already.
  • Bill Shorten eats a sausage sandwich the wrong way around; the nation is confused that the living personification of white bread cannot correctly eat it.
  • Eurovision gets higher viewer numbers than election night coverage across all the networks combined. Kate Miller-Heidke is elected honorary PM as she dances on the graves of thousands of disenfranchised Palestinians.
  • The Handmaid’s Tale, except this time they’re wearing all-white. Oh, and they’re the smiling brides of Satan wives and daughters of politicians.
  • Michael Hing actually gets elected to the Senate. He ages 20 years in the space of a month.
  • We rise up, overthrow the entire Westminster system, and appoint Winx as our first President. We call it a day and go to the pub.

Alyssa Robinson is a writer who will have her shit together before she turns 30. Sure. She tweets at @thatsironical