We return to find Bloom and Clacks hovering in the corner of a room looking down on a private conversation among Ministers, Flip and Flop and Maxtor Seagate, a hard driving lobbyist for BHP.  Naturally, our clandestine protagonists are invisible to the officials and VIP, but not to us.

(Bloom whispers to Clacker.)

Bloom: Keep your ears peeled. This should be interesting.

(Clacker leans forward.)

Flip: [looking at MS] Like I said to Flop, we can’t continue draining the Murray. Eventually the thing’ll run dry and then where’ll we be.

Flop: I tell you where will be. We’ll be down the gurgler, our Jatz in a right cracker.

Flip: They’ll have our heads on a spike. And I have to say if there’s one thing I wanna keep, it’s my head.

Flop: Look Max. we’re not a couple of lamingtons. Hop in for a chop and pay yer fair share.

[Max looks disconsolately out the window]

Max: I feel your pain boys, I really do. But you see my hands are tied.

Flip: Tied, my arse!

Max: That’s a tad blue Flip, A fine howdy-doo for all the… well you know?  We’d hate to crash the party, but if we’re not making money…

Flop: Okay, okay, but what’re we gunna do when there’s no water.

Max: Got it covered. No worries mate. Don’t you Aussies have that say’n “She’ll be right”?

Flop: Yeah, but.

Max: Just leave it to us, boys. We’ve had plenty of experience elsewhere with sort of thing. Okay! Now, meet you at North Ad. T-off in an hour. Okay? Relax; you’re on the fairway not in the woods.

Flip. I guess you’re right. It would be an economic disaster for everyone if you pulled out.

Max: Exactly.