Prime minister: How are we going to handle this, mate?

Chief adviser: I've written a three-point plan on this post-it note prime minister.

Prime minister: Sorry to interrupt, but I was thinking I could talk about the floods and the great way the nation pulls together in a crisis. Perhaps I could wear an SES hat for a photo opportunity?

Chief adviser: Scottie, I think we have to tackle this one head on.

Prime minister: Maybe I could begin by talking about my mother, and my wife and my daughters and how they are the centre of my life. That way I'm talking about women, which is to the point, without having to go into the rape bit, or the abuse, or the weird stuff on the desk.

Chief adviser: Perhaps prime minister, you could shed a tear?

Prime minister: I could. That would demonstrate sensitivity, and you know, women like to cry.

Chief adviser: Yes, empathy Scottie.

Prime minister: And no one is going to expect me to talk about that disgusting stuff on the desks when I'm blubbering like a child. And if they do, if they ask me one question about the horrific boys-only culture in parliament, I'll attack them.

Chief adviser: Yes, strong leadership prime minister.

Prime minister: I'll say, hey, I know who you work for, and you guys do stuff much worse, well, nearly as bad as we do, so don't get on your high horse Mr Glasshouse. I'll tell 'em.

Chief adviser: You tell 'em prime minister.

Prime minister: Hey, do I have to go out there alone? Maybe, you know, a show of solidarity. Some colleagues standing behind me nodding. What about Marjory Paine, she's the Minister for Women.

Chief adviser: It's Marise, Marise Payne.

Prime minister: Maurice? Isn't that a man's name?

Chief adviser: Ah, I don't think she's available today prime minister.

Prime minister: What? Too busy cleaning her desk, hahahahaha.

Chief adviser: They're waiting for you prime minister. Just remember your future could depend on how you handle this.