Key: Hi John.
Banks: Hi John.
Key: By the way, John, I wanted to say you’re looking good. Fitter and trimmer.
Banks: You too, John. You’re looking very good to me.
Key: The glasses suit you too, John. They make you look more intellectual and sophisticated.
Banks: Why thank you, John.
Key: No problem, John.
Banks: John… actually do you mind if I call you John? “Prime Minister” sounds just so formal.
Key: Go ahead and call me John, John. I’m a man of the people.
Banks: I will then, John. John, can we be open and honest?
Key: We’re politicians, John. Why would we start now?
Banks: Oh very good, John, very good!
Key: The people love my sense of humour, John. Anyway, you were saying?
Banks: Yes yes! But first, are you sure this is safe? None of those awful journalists outside will be able to hear what we say, will they John?
Key: Certainly not. And they wouldn’t dare publish anything even if they could overhear us, John.
Banks: Good. Because I wanted to tell you something, John. It’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about as I’ve been campaigning through the Epsom electorate these last few weeks. I’ve met with people of all types, John: white people, middle class people, upper middle class people, the super-wealthy, and even some white people.
Key: You already mentioned the white people, John.
Banks: Oh, right…the thing is, John, the experience has changed me, and I think for the better. You know, John, I’ve developed a reputation in the past as being a bit of an abrasive character. Some people have called me racist and bigoted, which really hurts. But I’ve learned something, John.
Key: What’s that, John?
Banks: I’ve learned that it takes all sorts to make up this crazy beautiful world of ours. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a merchant banker, a lawyer, an accountant or just a lowly stockbroker. We’re all different, John.
Key: Ah… sure, John… I guess…
Banks: And all this got me to thinking abut the miracle that is life. It is a miracle, isn’t it, John?
Key: I’ll tell you what a miracle is. A miracle is my f**king popularity rating, John. They say you can’t fool all the people all of the time, but they obviously never met me. I don’t even know how I get away with some of the sh*t I say.
Banks: You’ve got a good heart, John. That’s what matters. A good heart.
Key: Thank you, John.
Banks: John, do you think much about the afterlife?
Key: No John, I try not to think about my time after politics. It’s bad luck to.
Banks: I mean when your body has expired and your soul ascends into the heavens. Do you think much about death, John?
Key: I’m pretty relaxed about it, to be honest, John. Why?
Banks: John, do you worry about how God will judge the life you have led?
Key: No, John, I probably haven’t had the time. I work really long hours, and having to manage the likes of Gerry Brownlee and Paula Bennett doesn’t lend itself to quiet contemplation.
Banks: John, have you let Jesus into your life?
Key: No, John, not as such. I have to be honest: my schedule’s pretty jammed up until the end of November, but if you think he’d be interested in donating to the party I may be able to fit something in. Unless you’re happy for Steven and Murray to meet with him.
Banks: John, I think it’s important that we all find time for Jesus. If there’s one thing I’ve learned while pounding the mean streets of Epsom, it’s that we all need to let Jesus the Eternal Saviour and Divine Son of God into our lives.
Key: John, are you sure that’s just tea in that cup?
Banks: John, God freely offers eternal life to all mankind.
Key: Free, John? You mean he’s just giving it away? That doesn’t sound to me like a sustainable business model. It sounds like something those Labour clowns dreamed up.
Banks: John, do you know what the Bible tells us? It tells us that Jesus died upon the cross, shedding His blood for our sins.
Key: Did he really, John? I don’t recall that happening. Was that during my lost “Springbok Tour” years?
Banks: John, He was then buried and rose again three days later. Jesus took His literal blood, ascended into Heaven, and applied it to the mercy seat in Heaven.
Key: That sounds unpleasant and messy, John, That’s why when I ascend I always go business class.
Banks: John, I’m not sure you understand. Look, here… I wrote down some words from the Bible. can I just read them to you? Here it is. Ahem…”Then come unto him the Sadducees, which say there is no resurrection; and they asked him, saying, Master, Moses wrote unto us, If a man’s brother die, and leave his wife behind him, and leave no children, that his brother should take his wife, and raise up seed unto his brother. Now there were seven brethren: and the first took a wife, and dying left no seed. And the second took her, and died, neither left he any seed: and the third likewise. And the seven had her, and left no seed: last of all the woman died also. In the resurrection therefore, when they shall rise, whose wife shall she be of them? for the seven had her to wife. And Jesus answering said unto them, Do ye not therefore err, because ye know not the scriptures, neither the power of God? For when they shall rise from the dead, they neither marry, nor are given in marriage; but are as the angels which are in heaven.”
Key: I think I saw that movie years ago, John. But weren’t there seven brides in the film?
Banks: Don’t you see? It’s a message, John.
Key: Is it, John?
Banks: About this party I’ve joined, John. In the parable the wife is barren for each of the brothers.
Key: Well maybe she was on the pill. But how exactly is this a problem, John? I’ll tell you what would have been a problem. It would have been a problem if this woman had ended up with seven different litters to seven different men. Thank God all our tough talking on welfare mums is finally sinking in.
Banks: John, don’t you see? First Hide, then Brash, then… well look at the polls! I’ve joined a stinker of a party and in two weeks time I’ll be its only MP and its effective leader when that muppet Brash steps down! Christ, John, what have I gotten myself into?
Key: John, surely you must have seen this coming. Nobody actually liked Brash even when he was my leader.
Banks: I made a mistake when Brash knocked on my door. I was at a low ebb after that Brown fellow knocked me over in the mayoralty contest. John, I suppose you could say I was young and foolish.
Key: Well, John, it’s too late to do anything about it now, isn’t it?
Banks: But couldn’t I…. couldn’t I join the blue team? I’m a National man at heart, John.
Key: I know, John, which is why you’d be doing the party a huge favour by winning Epsom.
Banks: I don’t want to be an ACT man, John! I can’t face the humiliation. Do you know they even want to legalise the smoking of wacky-baccy?
Key: Do you love the party, John?
Banks: Of course I do, John.
Key: Then do this one thing for us, John. Win Epsom.
Banks: And then after the election… can I come back, John? Please?
Key: I really need you in ACT, John.
Banks: But you don’t understand, John. I love National. I love its leader. I… I think I love you, John.
Key: John, you’re making me feel a bit weird now.
Banks: Yes, John, I do love you. I do! And I would shout it to the world if only I could.
Key: John, have you been ill recently?
Banks: Don’t you worry, John, I’m a man’s man. I’m not into any of that men-rubbing-up-against-each-other nonsense, what with all that sweat and noise. Disgusting! It makes me angry just thinking about all those men grinding together in sweaty piles making sweet perverted love. Ugh!
Key: Look, John, I think I need to be going. You wouldn’t believe the crazy day I have ahead.
Banks: Don’t go yet! Please, John! Don’t go until you’ve promised me you’ll have me back!
Key: John, I can’t do that.
Banks: I’m begging you, John. Please don’t leave me with these ACT nutters. Take me back.
Key: No, John.
Banks: John, please!
Key: John, I have to go. Please, take your hands off my arm.
Banks: Okay then, John, but at least make me a minister in the next government.
Key: John, it’s a deal. Consider it done. Pacific Island Affairs?
Banks: Perfect, John. Christ be with you.