In which the pond discovers the careless loss of a Speaker and a dumped bogan rampant is a cross between Puccini and Shakespeare ...

It turned out it was pure Puccini, albeit minus the melodic skills.

There was the thwarted Queen, deposed and unable to conceal the bitterness:

There was the kiss that killed with a sigh, and the air of loss:

There was the attempt at a joke:

TONY SMITH, SPEAKER: I have, Prime Minister, some friends on the other side. The members ... (laughs)

And the dour response of King Lear, in the yellow sear of life (or was that Macbeth?):

And the hasty retreat:

... It wasn't part of my pitch, that's true. (laughs) 
HAYDEN COOPER: Unlike his predecessor, Tony Smith will now stay out of Liberal party room meetings, an early attempt to assert his independence.

Oh dear, at the end of the drama, the bogan triumphant, a dumped acolyte of Costello rampant:

It had it all, as you can see enacted at the ABC's 7.30 here, and even better the unseen Machiavelli was Scott "did you see my distinguished statesmanlike family photo spread in the Australian Women's Weekly" Morrison ...

All at once, Robert was screaming and struggling with the strength of frenzy. Jack had him by the hair and was brandishing his knife. Behind him was Roger, fighting to get close. The chant rose ritually, as at the last moment of a dance or a hunt. "Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Kill the pig! Bash him in!" Ralph too was fighting to get near, to get a handful of that brown, vulnerable flesh. The desire to squeeze and hurt was over-mastering.

Oh dear, how did that get into a family blog. This is Puccini, not Lord of the Flies ... or wait, might it yet still turn into a slaughter of the innocents?

Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.

Put it another AFR way:

Tony Smith's victory in a four-way race to replace Bronwyn Bishop as Speaker came courtesy of widespread support among the two largest states and the efforts of a new generation of numbers men in the Liberal Party. 
With no candidate from NSW, the support of that state's 23 Liberal MPs was crucial. Social Services Minister Scott Morrison, who was helping Mr Smith, marshalled the bulk of NSW votes. 
Prime Minster Tony Abbott, from NSW, told colleagues he would be voting for runner-up Russell Broadbent but largely stayed out of the matter, at the behest of his MPs who are fed up with his so-called captain's picks. 
Joe Hockey, from NSW, began backing South Australia's Andrew Southcott but is understood to have switched to Mr Smith over the weekend. (Phillip Coorey, here).

The captain's back in the pavilion, with an unlucky 13 to his name; the numbers belong to others.

Even Bill Leak, the kool aid kid, laid off his dose this morning:

 Oh dear, the fatal comparison that begins the third act:

Meanwhile, the pond has faithfully maintained its ban on Q and A - how goeth the reptiles?

Oh dear, still the entitlement soap saga continues and the cricket's somehow wangled its way into the story, and still the reptiles encourage the cardigan wearers by reporting as news a TV show anyone could sit down and watch on their own. And for this they expect payment? They want a gold brick for their labours?

Forget it, let's see what they have to say about the slow, but inexorable fall of the captain:

Yep, there it is at the top of the page, as the bouffant one reports the glum news, but with special twist and pike that finds hope in despair - essential if you're going to crack the American market, because they always expect an up ending and triumph in adversity:

The gossiping has begun?

Didn't you mean to say the Australian Women's Weekly photo session has begun, oh bouffant one?

The pond is indebted to The Insiders here, for the insight, even if it's as stale as months old bread.

A barking mad clap happy! That's what this country needs. An Xian who knows how to torture! Look how nicely he smiles as he goes about his knee-capping ...

Now back to the bouffant one for the wrap up:

Hmm, sounds grim. Plenty more Lord of the Flies to come. Here's hoping they hire a Puccini devotee to provide some nice melodies to accompany the blood-letting.

Luckily The Insiders also featured a Knight, which reminded the pond of the boon doggling and pork barreling that's already dead in the water:

After the big bash, such a fine form of national service for a poodle ...