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Cock-a-hoop Aussies Make Warne Prime Minister

MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA -- In a move that will send shockwaves through the international community, Australia today removed long-standing leader John Howard from power and replaced him with cricket legend Shane Warne.


Despite flying flagrantly in the face of constitutional and democratic due process, the blond leg-spinner was sworn-in as Prime Minister during a hastily arranged ceremony at Parliament House in Canberra. He was flown to the capital straight after masterminding Australia’s latest thumping of their erstwhile landlords and current Ashes whipping boys England in Melbourne.


Warne currently has a 99.9% approval rating in a country where vests and flip-flops are mandatory apparel, burger and beer consumption are the primary indicators of masculinity and adultery and tabloid notoriety involving sexual voracity are regarded with fondness and pride. With the ritual humiliation of the motherland in the field of sporting endeavour also something of a national pastime, it is little wonder that the man with 200 Ashes wickets has been swept to power on a wave of public adulation.


The announcement of his Premiership provoked wild cheering at Warne’s native MCG where revellers continued to party hours after another three-day humiliation put them 4-0 up in the five match rubber. Barbeques sprang up in the outfield and drunken renditions of Waltzing Matilda and Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport filled the air.

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New Prime Minister Warne is hoisted aloft by his subjects

“This is a victory for clear thinking and people power,” government spokesman Bruce Galah shouted above the hubbub. “We’ve been ruled by yes men and toothless politicians for years. It’s about time we had a real Aussie in the hot-seat – a bloke who likes a drink, likes the ladies and knows his way around a pokie machine. If that bloke can also rip a flipper through Ian Bell’s feeble forward defensive, then so much the better.” He drained his can of VB, scrunched it up and tossed it playfully at disconsolate-looking England captain Andrew Flintoff. “Cheer up, Fred – It might never happen!”

The new Prime Minister himself was ambivalent at the unprecedented turn of events: “Look, I don’t really know the first thing about politics,” Warne admitted in his first televised address to his ecstatic electorate, “but if you want some good honest Pom bashing, followed by a slap-up tea of pie and chips and then some late-night, friendly sex pest texting, then fair dinkum, I’m your man.”


Former PM Howard accepted the sudden handover of power with uncharacteristic good grace. “I was actually getting a bit jaded with all the work involved in running this great nation of convicted felons and technically superb, though insufferably arrogant sportsmen,” he said. “I’ve been thinking for a while it was about time we gave Warney a go. Besides, this will allow me to spend more time on the veranda with my new cabinet colleague Glenn McGrath sipping moonshine and shooting Aborigines.”

It was Howard's inability to generate the right level of media salaciousness that contributed to his downfall

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