Scene: The Premier's office. Morris Iemma is sitting behind his desk, surrounded by advisers. They are discussing the fate of the whale calf that has been sucking yachts in Pittwater.

Iemma: Do we really have to get involved? Aren't whales Canberra's job? Call Peter Garrett and say: over to you.

Adviser 1: No, boss. Talkback radio is going crazy. Weeping kiddies are keeping vigil over the whale and sending it flowers. Think of the TV coverage. We've got to spin this or we'll end up with blubber all over our faces.

Iemma: Makes a change from egg, I suppose. OK, well who's going to do it? Let's think. It's an animal, so it must come under Agriculture, right? Who's the Minister for Agriculture again?

Adviser 1: It's, er, it's, er …

Adviser 2: Yeah, I noticed him yesterday in the gents. (Exasperated with himself.) Oh - what's his name? It's on the tip of my tongue.

Adviser 1 (shaking head): You know, agriculture - it's just not a Labor thing. If we go the Agriculture route, it makes saving whales a National Party issue.

Iemma: Good point. Well what about this? Joe Tripodi's the Ports Minister, and the thing's swimming around in a port.

Adviser 2: Joe? You can't be serious.

Adviser 1: Don't go there, boss. It'll take one look at him and cark.

Adviser 2: On camera, in front of 50 teary seven-year-olds, and just in time for the evening news.

Iemma: Yeah. I 'spose you're right. All right. Its mother's buggered off and it's suffering neglect. Get DOCS onto it.

Adviser 1: Nooooo. DOCS? They'll haul it into court and charge it with being a neglected whale. Think of the coverage.

Iemma: OK, not DOCS. Reba?

(Both advisers snort loudly and laugh behind their hands.)

Iemma: No, I'm serious. Look she's Health Minister. This is a sick whale. Health. Sick. There's a connection there, right? (Advisers look at each other and roll their eyes.) Don't look like that. Plus, think of it: on the evening news, Reba in flippers and a wetsuit - (advisers snigger behind their hands) holding a feeding bottle. (Advisers howl with laughter.)

Adviser 1: Reba with a bottle!

Adviser 2: Full of crab-flavoured milk!

(Iemma is completely po-faced as both advisers gasp for breath, crying with laughter and slapping their thighs.)

Iemma: I think it would really soften her image in the public's mind.

Adviser 3 (enters running): National Parks say the whale's gunna get eaten by sharks.

Iemma: Right, we've got to act fast. Tell National Parks to stencil the Liberal Party logo onto all the fins. Brief Channel Seven that local schoolchildren have named the sharks Barry, Fatty and O'Farrell.

Adviser 3: And the whale?

Iemma: It won't have died in vain.