I'll admit, the scourge was news to me.
The Premier informed us that in some areas of Queensland, up to 35% of young serfs are unable to find work.
It's 20% in Ippy, Lamington.
Furthermore, an overwhelming majority of Queenslanders consider this not only a problem but also blame the LNP for it.
You could've knocked me over with a feather!
What right did they have to blame us, the Government?
However, the Premier assured us that he would announce a policy later in the day that would 'blow Labor out of the water' on the issue.
The policy had the potential side-benefit of imperceptibly decreasing actual youth unemployment provided 'the stars aligned' and 'the trends continued trending' and 'asset
I spoke up.
'I presume', I said, 'this policy is a billion dollar stimulus package for our ailing workhouse industry, followed by the formation of an armed press gang to stock the revitalised workhouses with young serfs?'
The Premier cleared his throat, twice.
'That's not part of our plan, Lamington', he said.
I didn't try to keep the crushing disappointment from my voice.
'Why ever not?'
'Look', the Premier said, 'I'll be straight with you. Forcing children into workhouse slavery hasn't tested well with our focus groups'.
He cut me off before I could interject.
'And before you say it', he said, his voice rising, 'None of us believed it either. But we re-ran the numbers and now six separate groups - including the group that favoured our strong plan to farm koalas for eucalyptus oil - have said the same thing. People hate child slavery'.
'Yes', I said slowly, 'I accept the industry has an image problem - bloody Oliver Twist. But it's not insurmountable. We can re-brand workhouses! We can make them attractive to whippersnappers again, if we speak their language and appeal to their culture'.
The Premier didn't answer. Slugger Seeney stifled a cough.
'There isn't a youth alive', I said, 'that wouldn't be excited to work 90 hours a week chained to a bench in 'The Perry Como Party House of Perpetual Fun and Gypsum Grinding?'
The Treasurer groaned.
'For God's sake, Berry', he said testily, 'We're the LNP. Don't you think we considered marketing? Don't you think that was our first, second and third fucking plan'.
His voice became high and angry.
'Look at what Pyne is up to right now', he said, 'He's burning through $8 million to rebrand his university reforms that haven't even passed parliament. That's how we do marketing in the LNP - balls to the wall. But you know what, you could spend $800 million and the public still won't want your fucking workhouses!'
My blood boiled.
'And how many workhouses do you own, Treasurer?', I thundered, 'I've dozens across the state and all but three are mothballed. I'm being choked by red-tape'.
'That doesn't matter'.
'Hells bells it doesn't', I screamed, 'I'm the only one on this call with commercial workhouse interests, but I speak for the other owners in parliament. Our voices will be heard. And don't think I don't know which members have received donations from the lobbyists at Wonderful Workhouses - including you, Treasurer'.
'Gentleman, gentleman', Slugger Seeney said, playing peacemaker, 'I think we need to move on'.
As he does when he's anxious, the Premier began announcing more funding for Ashgrove.
I was silent for the rest of the call. My revenge on the Treasurer will be served cold and coated in coconut.
Until later.
