G’day Luv
I’ve just been reading your campaign website and I’m over the bloody moon to learn that you recognise the potential of the people of Oxley and understand the challenges that they face. 
In fact, it’s the best bloody news I’ve heard since Anthony Milford signed for the Bronco’s, and believe me darlin’, after the last couple of weeks I’ve had I need good news like a two-bit hooker needs cashed up horny cuckolding married men.
You see I’ve got this mate who lives out in the Oxley electorate. His names Plug, and he used to live in Geebung – we called him Bugsy back in those days – but after Kevvie banned him from the Bunger RSL for smashing the TV screen in the Zillman Waterholes bar when Heartbreak Benny Hunt dropped the ball from the kick in last year’s grand final, he became like Cain with the black stain across the skin holding in his pea for a brain, and was forced to leave the promised land and walk alone across the earth forever.
But because he’s a fat, lazy bastard he decided to jump on the train, and given that he’d done his last 100 bucks cold when JT kicked the winner and the Cowboys took the flag, he of course didn’t buy a ticket, for the simple fact that he didn’t have the dough to stump for the sub. Anyway, being blind drunk and bleeding after he tried to argue the toss with Kevvie about the ban, and the 71 year old ex-Vietnam Special Forces assassin jobbed him a couple of times and gave him a gentle old Mal Meninga style toe poke, the minute he landed on the QR rattler Plug fell asleep, as you tend do in such trying circumstances.
Fortunately for Plug he managed to make it in and out of the CBD unmolested and snoring. There are some bad folk on those mean streets of the city, especially down George Street way, and they just love kicking a bloke who’s down on his luck, as I’m sure you already know given you’ve got the drum on the challenges faced by the Oxley punters, and who knows what would have happened to poor old Plug if he found himself dazed and confused wandering around Queen Street Mall.
But the good Lord or budget cut were on his side, and it wasn’t until just after the rattler pulled out of Gailes Railway Station that the sub-contracted QR security boys nabbed him and hurled him headfirst off the train onto the next platform, which just so happened to be at Goodna, smack bang in the middle of the electorate whose people you love as your own. God bless the LNP, and God bless the stoned bird sitting on the station seat talking to the sparrows, for she saw the bleeding Plug stand up and shake himself off after coming to, and in her heroin induced haze imagined and in fact truly believed that he was Jesus Christ himself resurrected from the cross, and that the claret pissing out of his head and hands wasn’t from the broken stubby he’s landed on when he got hurled from the train, but rather was the stigmata, and his displaced Shane Warne advertisement encouraged hair implants that he’d bought on his Mum’s credit card without her knowing were in fact the Crown of Thorns.
Well Bibe what happened next is that this drug f*cked, delusional, but totally bedazzled bird picked up Plug – he’s collapsed again almost immediately after standing up – slung him over her shoulder, and hoofed our newly-owned personal Jesus back to the 2 bedroom Housing Commission mansion flat just off the Warrego Highway behind the Goodna Pub, and there me old mate Plug has been ever since, and he’s as happy as bloody Larry and twice as happy again, because his new found juiced up Juliet buys him a bottle of Bundy and a carton of Crownies every dole day, and he trades his 100 bucks worth of Salvos-issued food vouchers to a bloke in the pub for 80 bucks so he can have a Saturday punt on the ponies, and life just doesn’t get much better for a bloke like him as he’s nearing the age of 50.
The Lord moves in mysterious ways hey baby? 
But of course you know that, what with being a Pastor and all, but what really gets me excited and turns me on is that you recognise the potential of the people in Oxley like Plug, because I’ve been looking for 40 odd years and try as I might I’ve never been able to bloody find it. 
So I tell you what. You give me the good oil on Plug’s potential, and tell us how to harness it and set it free without investing in a gun licence and a few rounds of Armalite issued hollow point .22’s, and I’ll whip you up at least 100 votes from the sportsfans in Oxley who are sick and bloody tired of hearing him singing Johnny Farnham songs while blind rotten drunk and sitting on the Goodna Housing Commission mansion flats roof at 2am on a Thursday morning.
You never know, those 100 votes may just get you over the line and into Magnificent Mal’s ministry. 
Stranger things have happened hey?
And after all, you’re opponent’s just a Dick.
Looking forward to hearing from you Bibe, ‘cos with you on his side I reckon that after all these long years the world’s all of a sudden Plug’s oyster, and you’re a pearl, and he’s a jewel is my friend.
Good onya for caring darling. Blokes like Plug need Pollies like you, and I can’t wait to hear how you’re going to unlock the pantheon sized hidden potential the halfwit has inside.
Give us a bell back and spell out the strategy please sweetheart.