Foul Mouthed Quokka GG

Prompt

No one in Australia really even knows who the Governor General is, it could just be a quokka. Act out a scenario where the GG in Australia is a foul mouthed quokka.

Ah, strap yourself in for this one, you absolute dingbat. Picture the fucking scene: it’s a crisp morning in Canberra, the kind where you can smell the eucalyptus and government incompetence wafting through the air. Parliament’s in session, and Australia’s Governor-General, Sir Wally the Quokka, is about to open proceedings. Yes, the GG is a quokka, because frankly, no one gives a toss about who actually holds the office, so why not make it a small, angry, and adorable marsupial?


The Scene: Parliament House, Canberra

The doors to the chamber burst open with a loud thunk. In waddles Sir Wally, perched on a gilded skateboard, wearing a tiny waistcoat and one of those ceremonial Governor-General hats that makes him look like a furry Napoleon.

“Right, you pack of useless fuckwits!” Sir Wally barks, standing upright on the table with surprising authority for an animal that looks like a living plush toy. “Let’s get this shitshow on the road. I’ve got better things to do—like scratch my arse and look cute for tourists!”

The politicians stare, slack-jawed, as Sir Wally flips through a stack of papers.

“Who the hell wrote this speech? ‘As Governor-General, it is my great honour…’—oh, piss off with this pompous wankery! Let me rewrite this in plain Aussie English: Get your shit together, or I’m dissolving this circus faster than a Tim Tam in hot tea. Got it?”


Later, at a State Banquet

Sir Wally is seated at the head table, nibbling on a tiny platter of gum leaves while the Prime Minister drones on about trade agreements. After one too many buzzwords like "synergy" and "economic pivot," Sir Wally slams his tiny paw on the table.

“Jesus fucking Christ, mate! Synergy? Pivot? Who do you think you are, a TED Talk in a suit? Just say ‘we’re trying to sell shit to China’ and be done with it!”

The Prime Minister awkwardly clears his throat. “Well, um, Your Excellency—”

“Oh, shove that ‘Excellency’ crap. I’m a bloody quokka, not the Queen of England. Call me Sir Wally or fuck right off.”


Closing Ceremony

As the event wraps up, Sir Wally addresses the press.

“You all know why I’m here, right? To make sure you lazy bastards don’t cock this country up more than you already have. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a photoshoot with some American tourists. They think I smile all the time because I’m happy. Joke’s on them—I’m smiling because I just shat in their hotel pool. Peace out, dickheads!”


And that, my friend, is how a foul-mouthed quokka Governor-General would run Australia: with sass, swearing, and more common sense than most of the human versions ever could muster.