Malcolm Turnbull is back from Paris and he has a new girlfriend. Problem is, it’s the same one that got him in trouble last time. Climate Change. She’s back.
Malcolm is at it again. “We’ve just got back from Paris,” they tell us in unison. He went there expressly to meet her, pursuing that girl who ruined the finish on his Cabinet once before. We tried to tell him that his parents would never approve; that doesn’t matter now.
She’s here, with Mal, canoodling him, hands shared in back pockets.
Climate change policy. She’s back.
This can only end poorly.
Her “Hi guys!” entrance brought on an awkward typhoon of rolled eyes, checked phones and cleared throats. Smiles on the surface – but knowing glances swapped across the table. Oh Christ, not again. Mal’s gawking at her, and we can see why. She’s hot. But complicated.
Mal’s drive and hopeless devotion to her is quietly respected in the group, but mainly because he’s doomed to fail. We want him to bang her. Problem is, she’s got a bit of a name for herself. Not just with Mal, but with the rest of the Party animals who have tried to take her home and failed miserably.
A couple of weekends back there was one guy who seemed to be doing quite well. He was a bit of a nerd, but he had the confidence to back it up. She didn’t seem to mind. His assured, halting tone spat fire platitudes, his harmless face and smooth posture, fuelled by bad intentions, brought him ever closer to her. He said all the right things. She wasn’t what the others thought she was. She was incredibly important and amazing.
And most of the night, it seemed like he’d convinced her into sexual congress.
Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. He was ruthlessly cock-blocked by his own friends. They hated her. It’s not clear why, maybe they didn’t totally get her, but they made Kevin choose.
A ginger woman went up next, and they seemed to be getting along relatively well, dragging her to the dance floor, stepping around her in an indirect way, dancing close but not close enough to touch. A method that may have got results, until this macho guy killed the mood by yelling “boo!” a lot.
We didn’t know what his problem was.
We asked Mal if he knew that guy, to which he said, “Sort of.” Maybe he was trying to out-Alpha the Alpha-Mal. But he failed spectacularly. Where everyone else had been subtle, the macho guy seemed to favour a more…direct approach. He walked straight up to her, popped his house keys in her drink and yelled, “You keen?”
When CCP declined, he threw his drink on the ginger woman then walked back to his friends. After a few more $2 shots, he was overheard at the bar audibly telling his boys, “She’s too hot to be real anyway.”
Which brings me to Mal’s “incident.”
Everything was cool – until it wasn’t. Somewhere between Usher’s Burn and Nelly’s Hot in Herre he dragged her close to him and whispered something. I’m not sure exactly what he said to her, but she suddenly turned ice cold.
Backhanded apologies were made in haste, but it was already too late. Emotions had been spilled. Worst of all, Mal kept going over to his group and saying, “She’s the one.” They dismissed his attraction to her, which made it worse. They said that the only reason why he liked her is because his previous exes were a bit…uncool (see Communications).
She eventually refused to talk to him at all. The bouncers told Mal that he’d had enough, and it was time to leave. He tried to get some of his friends to go to another club with him, but they stayed put.
But that was the old Mal. In the time between seeing her again, Mal is rolling with a new crew. (Shoutout to wing-woman Julie!) Strange through, they seem to be playing the same music as last time, and the club, despite a fresh new paint job – feels vaguely familiar.
I just hope Mal remembers that while CCP will never change, he might have to.