I don’t think I can handle another day of Kat complaining about the bow rail magazine. She always comes up to me, begging that I use my slight telekinesis powers to turn the pages, one by one, until reaching page seven. I’ve told her plenty of times that I won’t do it, and that bow rails aren’t even worth learning about. They really aren’t that interesting. Now if it was fishing rod holders, then I would understand. You know, I’d even understand if she wanted to learn about what a bait board is. I know all about bait boards if you know what I mean.
Being a former member of the Australian government does make the afterlife a lot harder. I wasn’t exactly popular in my position, so I spend most days hoping that we don’t have a ghost join us who recognises me. I’m the newest ghost, so nobody in Clasp House knows a thing about me. But given my position of power and knowledge of modern politics, I do feel a responsibility to lead these misguided ghosts throughout their post-life. It’s just a shame that none of them takes me seriously, given I died without a shirt on. I just wanted to go for a swim in the pond outside, but apparently, that was the end of me.
If we were able to leave this mansion-turned-hotel, I’d take Kat on a field trip to see what really happens with marine fabrication near Melbourne, just to get her off my back. Of course, I could actually use my telekinesis. I don’t want the other ghosts to see me as someone they can turn to for help, though. What do I look like, a servant of the people? I couldn’t care less about the common people. If anything, they should be serving me. That was my attitude when I was a living politician, and it definitely hasn’t changed now that I’m dead.
– Julius, former MP.