STAR caught its breath as it seductively pushed wide the backdoor to Launch’s office.
“What are you doing here?” began Launch, not wanting to belie its excitation on what an office visit meant, “Shouldn’t you be out with the pundits?”
“Nevinmind the voters… election campaigns get awful lonely,” replied STAR, as they closed the office door shut and sauntered over to perch upon Launch’s desk.
“Isn’t this… against electoral guidelines,” whimpered Launch, though they desperately wanted to throw caution to the wind and dive right into-
STAR placed their finger on Launch’s lips, silencing their thoughts.
“It’s only illegal if a little, but comically large-beaked birdy finds out,” replied STAR with a wink, already thinking of how some webcam shots might accidentally make its way to Pelican, “and besides, I’ve been Weiting for this for a long time…”.
STAR swept aside the handmade stuffed ‘Paul & Bjorn’ figures and pulled Launch in for a tender pash, both parties showing more affection in their opposition than either had for student life. Launch began reaching for STAR’s belt buckle, accidentally loosening about $6,000 in wads of cash that STAR had stashed around their waistline. Before they could get any further, STAR backed them down.
“Don’t worry, you’ll help me and my footlong meatball soon,” they whispered, “but for now, let’s concentrate on you and your red rocket – the one thing your invisible hand can’t stimulate.”
Launch wanted to say something, but caught its tongue, lest STAR’s presence in Launch’s Business School be cut short, remembering another ‘incident’ with STAR at the Barry J Marshall library that ended far too early.
“Tell me about the clubs,” Launch changed track, as STAR worked their way to Launch’s blast modules, hoping for at least a couple espresso shots of Rocket Fuel, “tell me about campus culture.”
“EMAS has a tighter grasp on stupol than Young Libs have on you,” began STAR, “PROSH still thinks they’re relevant but, just like the UEC, neither one wants to accept the reality of a post-Mining Boom Perth. BNOCs don’t realise that it doesn’t count if 99.99% of the campus don’t know a thing about you.”
“Oo, that’s dirtier than Tom Beyer’s Guild award tactics,” replied Launch, getting ever closer to take-off.
“Stupol hacks switch sides and seats so often that I’ve chosen to use placeholder party names just in case the Guild Presidential Candidates change overnight – and it doesn’t help that they’re impossible to tell apart because they’re all boring as batshit.”
“Oh yeAH. Now, choke me,” said Launch, pointing to their neck. Not that they needed any help choking, but the sentiment was nice.
STAR took grip, and began furiously playing up and down Launch’s electoral roll, until finally they collapsed exhausted.
“My work here is done,” murmured STAR, wiping its hands clean of all responsibility. Launch was more dishevelled than Left Actions’s voter base, and the mess they made could’ve easily employed about 300 University staff just to get the stains out. “It’s a shame we couldn’t fit in my own Berry Blast during common lunch hour, could’ve done with a Boost.”
STAR began towards the door, when over their shoulder, they heard Launch whisper:
“No Homo.”
Words by Dominic Cockman and Anonymous
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