WA’s Big Top: The Greatest Clown Show on Earth

Part 3 – The Tent Goes Up in Flames

You could smell it coming. The greasepaint was running, the lions were restless, and Roger Cook was sweating through his suit like a man trying to sell a dodgy car at the Sunday markets. The WA Government circus had been wobbling for years, but Part 3 is where the whole rotten tent finally goes up in flames.

And as with everything in WA politics, it’s not a dignified collapse. Oh no. It’s a slapstick inferno, complete with pratfalls, exploding cannons, and clowns tripping over flaming ropes while the audience roars with laughter and despair in equal measure.

🔥 Roger Cook: The Fire Warden Without a Hose

The big top is burning. Smoke billows out the sides, flames lick the canvas, and half the crowd is choking on the fumes. Roger Cook steps up to the microphone, clears his throat, and reassures the audience: “This is world-class atmosphere. Nothing to worry about.”

He stands there like Nero with a PowerPoint presentation, fiddling while Perth burns. He’s got no plan, no exit strategy, and no idea the lions have just eaten three ushers and are heading straight for the popcorn stand. The man is less ringmaster now and more confused fire warden, waving around a half-empty water pistol while the flames consume the stage.

🐘 The Stampede of the Acts

Every circus has animals, but WA’s aren’t trained. They’ve escaped, and they’re feral.

• The Metronet trains have broken free of their tracks and now rumble aimlessly through the suburbs like drunk elephants. One was last seen in Baldivis, charging straight through a Bunnings, leaving commuters stranded in the garden section.

• The health mandates, once paraded like proud show ponies, have bolted. Amber-Jade Sanderson tries to lasso them back into the ring, but they kick, neigh, and dump QR codes all over the arena.

• The carbon cultists set off fireworks powered by recycled methane. Unfortunately, they ignite the roof. Stephen Dawson insists it’s part of the “Net Zero vision,” right before a flaming beam crashes down behind him.

This isn’t policy anymore — it’s a stampede.

👹 The Villains’ Final Act

Then come the villains with their last hurrah.

• Amber-Jade Sanderson takes centre stage, eyes blazing, and declares: “From now on, hospitals are for government-approved illnesses only!” She unveils a giant syringe as the flames roar higher. The audience boos, then laughs, then chokes on the smoke.

• Rita Saffioti rises from beneath the floorboards like a troll in a pantomime. She unveils her crowning achievement: a toll booth for the exits. “Pay up if you want to escape!” she shrieks, coins rattling in her fist.

• Sue Ellery waves her BLM flashcards and demands Shakespeare be thrown into the fire for cultural safety. She begins rewriting the WA curriculum mid-blaze, scrawling on the back of a half-melted clown shoe.

• Stephen Dawson, oblivious to the carnage, summons Greta Thunberg once more. Her ghostly hologram hovers over the tent, screaming “HOW DARE YOU!” until the speakers short-circuit in the heat.

It’s chaos. It’s theatre. It’s WA Cabinet policy in live-action.

🤡 Barry’s Final Blunder

And what of Barry Zempilas, the opposition leader, the man meant to step in and seize the moment? This is it, Barry’s big chance. The government is literally on fire. The audience is restless. The ring is open.

Barry runs forward, trips on a flaming rope, and knocks himself out with his own shoe. As the tent collapses, he wakes briefly, raises his hand, and mumbles: “We won.”

The audience bursts into cruel laughter. Even the clowns stop juggling long enough to clap. Barry’s political career is less opposition than audition — and the casting director has left the building.

👏 The Audience Mutiny

The voters finally snap. Enough of the overpriced tickets, the broken rides, the suffocating smoke. They tear up their programs, throw chairs, and storm the ring. But here’s the twist: they don’t save the circus. They join the fire.

Some grab buckets of popcorn to fuel the flames. Others heckle the clowns until they flee. A few die-hards still cheer for their favourite act, shouting “More tolls! More taxes!” as Rita Saffioti vanishes into the smoke. But most just laugh bitterly, realising the joke’s been on them all along.

🌍 The International Guests Run for It

Right on cue, the international guests arrive to “save” the circus. Bill Gates lands in a parachute made of recycled condoms, clutching a crate of synthetic beef. Justin Trudeau floats down with rainbow streamers, pirouetting into the inferno. Keir Starmer drones his way through a speech so dull the flames seem to die down from sheer boredom — but then reignite in protest.

Within minutes, the globalists realise there’s nothing to salvage. They scramble out of the tent, chased by angry punters wielding burnt fairy floss sticks. For once, WA voters unite — not in voting booths, but in driving the foreign clowns out with torches.

🎇 The Ashes of the Tent

And then it’s over. The tent collapses in a shower of sparks, the clowns scatter into the night, and the audience stands coughing in the ashes. There’s no encore. No grand finale bow. Just smouldering ruins where WA politics once pretended to govern.

The voters look at each other, soot-stained and exhausted. Someone mutters: “At least we don’t have to buy tickets next season.” Another shrugs: “They’ll build another tent. They always do.”

Dark laughter ripples through the crowd. Because deep down, everyone knows the truth: WA politics isn’t dead. It’ll crawl back out of the ashes, dressed in the same greasepaint, wearing the same squeaky shoes, ready to run the same tired circus all over again.

And the sick joke? Most of the audience will come back. Because in Western Australia, politics isn’t a system. It’s entertainment. It’s theatre. It’s the greatest clown show on Earth — and the only way out is to stop laughing. But we never will.