An emergency meeting of non-resident foreign investors is held at an ethnic restaurant.
"Fries with that," says our leader.
The Happy Meals arrive and we get down to business. "The New Zealanders are on to us," says our leader. "They have discovered our massive programme of buying their homes, many of which are nice little do-ups."
Gasps are heard around the table. "But how?" asks a man who begins to pocket the free Minion toys.
Our leader says, "A small group of New Zealand communists have devised a cunning algorithm which assesses the degree of foreignness."
I ask, "Who are these communists and what do they want?"
Our leader announces, "They are the New Zealand Labour Party and they want to overthrow the regime which does so much for anyone with money!"
The table goes silent. One man weeps, and says, "I never thought I would see this in my lifetime."
The leader explains how the algorithm works. It reveals that almost 90 per cent of new home owners have shopped for Chinese radishes.
"That doesn't prove anything," I point out. "They are available in produce stores throughout New Zealand."
The leader goes on to say that 40 per cent of the receipts for Chinese radishes have been traced back to Beijing.
"Curse our appetite for the daikon!" rages a man, using our word for the incriminating radish.
"Let's not blame our own insatiable greed," says the leader. "The fault lies with our representatives in New Zealand. I have asked them here this week."
He looks at his Happy Meal, and asks, "Where's my free Minion toy?"
"Please explain," says our leader.
"Oh, look, it'll blow over," says the gracious lady from New Zealand. "Have you met my husband?"
The table nods. Everyone is always meeting her husband.
She says that the tricky problem of foreign ownership has been turned into a race issue, and many are accusing the Labour Party of racism. Comparisons have even been made with the Nazi Holocaust, and ethnic cleansing in Rwanda.
Our leader bows, and says, "What a brilliant strategy. How did you manage to sideline the issue, Judith?"
She says, "I'd like to take the credit, but the Labour Party and those on the left did it all themselves."
The waitress arrives, and asks, "Would you like sauce with your daikon nuggets?"
Judith says, "No, but I'd like some milk with my tea. Darling, do you have any Oravida samples on you? It's so delicious!"
"Please explain," says our leader.
"Oh, look, it'll blow over," says our loyal Minion from New Zealand. "At the end of the day, the majority of New Zealanders are more interested in the Rugby World Cup than receipts leading back to Chinese radishes as proof of your massive programme to push house prices beyond the reach of the majority of New Zealanders."
The man who always steals everyone's free toys claps his hands, and says, "I'd like to take you home!"
Mr Key says, "Well, I'm already in your pocket!"
A real estate agent from Barfoot & Thompson is accused of leaking information about foreign ownership to the Labour Party, and sacked.
"It will appease the gods," says our leader.
There's an uncomfortable silence. Someone at the back of the room strokes his Minion and says quietly, "But we're not religious."
Our leader sighs, and says, "I meant us."
A video link is set up with an auction in Auckland. We dip our nuggets as a nice little do-up in Orakei comes under the hammer.
"It commands panoramic views of Waitemata Harbour," says the auctioneer. "Entertaining areas with soaring stud heights and floor to ceiling glass extend to sandstone terraces, a pool, spa and sweeping private lawns.
"Water fountains play as you enter a dazzling, light-filled granite entry foyer. Huge bedrooms have marble en suites.
"At least four cars can park in the basement. An exceptional property fit for a king!"
But it's valued at $13 million. Only white devils can afford those prices. Auckland's property market is out of control, and needs fixing.