Last week after a particularly outré performance by Christopher Luxon of his interpretative dance piece: Words, what is they even good for? someone wrote: Do you reckon his staff have bets about this?
Well you would, wouldn't you? If you've been hired to write words for someone, even if you're, say, Chris Bishop being paid in tobacco blood money, you’ll still feel the need to do a decent job. (Or for that matter the pair of NZ First staffers who, Guyon Espiner reported today, moved on from there to the payroll of Big Tobacco. Gosh, how useful! Just at the very time the party was suddenly discovering it was all upset about tobacco laws!)
But anyway; pride in your work, pride in your words. You're obliged to respect him as your boss and as Prime Minister of an actual country, but God. If you care about words, you're surely going to let out the occasional pained groan. You can for sure imagine how making bets and jokes about it might help.
