A Whiskers McNibble Special Report
Dusty Gulch Gazette – Extra Edition – Ink Still Wet - by Roderick ( Whiskers ) McNibble
Your correspondent has been sniffing around ballot boxes longer than most people in Dusty Gulch have been sniffing corked bottles at the Dusty Dingo Pub. And after three rounds of council elections that would make a dingo blush, one fact stands taller than the town water tower:
Prentis Penjani always wins.
Not because the good people of Dusty Gulch love him. Not because his speeches could charm the legs off a kangaroo. He wins because the system - any system - has more give in it than a politician's handshake, and someone keeps greasing the hinges.
So it seems fair to look at different voting systems. I am about to scamper down a few rabbit holes and what I found is astounding...
Round One: First Past the Post
Plain, simple, straight as a fence line.
Votes:
- Prentis Penjani: 11
- Dusty McFookit: 9
- Trevor the Wallaby: 8
- “That bloke with the hat” (Dennis, still refusing to give his proper name): 7
Prentis puffed his chest and declared victory. The rest of the town stared like they’d just swallowed a bad batch of billy tea. Twenty-four votes didn’t want him. Didn’t matter. He had the biggest slice of the pie - even if it was mostly crumbs.
Round Two: Preferential Voting
Town grumbled. “Too unfair,” said Old Bazza from the Servo.
Number your fancies, distribute the love. Trevor eliminated first (poor bugger never had a chance), then Dennis the Hat (whose preferences mysteriously flowed straight to Prentis like water down a storm drain).
By the final count, Dusty McFookit had the majority. Cheers rang out. Prentis frowned… for about five seconds.
Next morning? Ballots started showing up in matching copperplate handwriting. Preferences lined up like ducklings behind a particularly persuasive drake. Prentis was on top again.
Bazza narrowed his eyes. “You’ve taken to this awfully quick, Prentis.”
He just smiled that smile - the one that says, “Rules are for people who don’t know how to read the fine print.”
Round Three: The Kiwi Way
Dulcie from The CWA piped up: “Two votes - one for your local larrikin, one for the party list.” Sounded cheat-proof.
- Local bloke Trevor romped it in his patch.
- Dusty’s mob had broad backing.
But when the party allocations shook out… quiet alliances with minor candidates, a few well-timed satellite groups, preferences tipping like a drunk on a verandah rail… guess who ended up with the sash?
Prentis Penjani. Again.
The Pattern Emerges
It doesn’t matter what box-ticking ritual we use:
- First Past the Post lets the splitter win.
- Preferential lets the preference-whisperer win.
- MMP lets the backroom dealer win.
Every time the town changes the lock, Prentis finds a new window left ajar.
And Dennis the Hat? Every single election:
- Comes second… or first (depending on how you squint at the early counts).
- Splits just enough votes to keep the field wide open.
- His preferences? Always the last to fall, and they fall exactly where they need to for Prentis to slide over the line.
Coincidence? Your correspondent doesn’t believe in coincidences any more than he believes a fox guards the henhouse out of the goodness of its heart.
The Hard Truth
Prentis Penjani doesn’t win despite the cheating. He wins because of it.
As long as ballots get mysteriously identical, as long as preferences flow in suspiciously neat rivers, as long as Dennis the Hat plays perennial bridesmaid (or groom in disguise), the result is baked in. Change the voting method all you like - it's just rearranging deck chairs on the SS Cheat.
The fix isn’t another fancy counting contraption from across the seas. It’s not a new ballot paper with more boxes to tick.
The fix is simple, and brutal:
Stop cheating. Stop letting others cheat. Stop pretending you don’t see it.
Count in the open. Watch like a hawk on a fence post. Ask questions louder than the Dusty Dingo's jukebox. Make deals visible from the other side of the main street. Put Trevor permanently on ballot-box duty. Let Dusty keep the running tally on a blackboard outside the servo. Let Bazza stare until even Prentis feels the heat.
Do that, and suddenly the smile slips. The edges don’t bend so easy. And maybe - just maybe - someone else gets a turn with the sash.
Until then? Prentis wins. Every damn time.
Because the system isn’t broken. The town’s just stopped guarding it.
That punchy line “it’s not how you vote, but who counts the votes” (or some variant of it) has been used for decades to highlight the idea that the integrity of an election doesn’t just depend on the rules on paper, but on how they’re implemented and overseen.
Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble
Senior Correspondent, Dusty Gulch Gazette
(Still watching. Still reporting. Still unimpressed.)
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