• Hugh G. Lee Inndette

Property: The Australian Dream, Issue 1, Dec 2020

Updated: Feb 15

IMF Moving In

Hugh G. Lee Inndette, proud property portfolio proponent

A charming Manly 3-bed semi was snapped up in a post auction frenzy best described in one word; boozy. The buyer, a high-ranking member of a shadowy

global financing cartel, better known as the International Monetary Fund, realised early on in the auction process he was the sole genuine bidder amongst the usual throng of rubber necks on site, thus taking his leave to drink aggressively at the Steyne’s Round Bar and indulge in Zoom beers with his globalist buddies stationed all over our pale blue dot. An unusual, yet highly effective tactic. With the concerned vendors turning ghostly white, the agents went into Tommy Lee Jones Fugitive overdrive to find their Richard Kimble. Unsure where and/or how an international financier may spend his leisure time, they called the Hugh G.Lee Inndette hotline to get their finger planted back firmly on the Beaches’ property pulse, being successfully directed to a watering hole known far and wide for its slippery commercial dealings. With their buyer now three sheets to the wind, haemorrhaging cash on the horses, and becoming acutely aware of his rambunctious linguistics and gesticulations causing on-looking security to begin earnest chatter into their walkie talkie lapels, the real estate agents were now far more successful in securing a bid that could get the deal over the line. With some obligatory back and forth, back and forth, it was not long until both parties reached an agreement on a sum that could be described as “modest” in local residential circles but could easily be measured in terms of an African nation's GDP if one were so inclined. The buyer, who spends most of his time bouncing around between Beirut, Baghdad and Addis Ababa, was upbeat about the purchase, and when asked what he intended to do to make the living room fireplace really pop he replied, “There’s a fireplace?”

Swirly Surly Curly Wurly

Rumours continue to swirl that a well-known and widely loved Curl Curl eccentric is considering cashing in and shipping out on his Pacific Ocean doorstop abode. Peninsula agents are licking their lips at the juicy commission on offer to be at the helm on this transaction, but the surly seller is no stranger to the art of the deal and may choose to plough ahead with a strategy detested by good honest hard working real estate agents the world over; selling the place on his own. Ah, the humanity!

Spit Palm Sky Road Proposal

The doyen of urban infrastructure, Frank N. Kreddittz, continues to drive full throttle into endless roadblocks to get his brazen initiative off the ground, a sky road from the corner of Medusa St and Spit Rd all the way to Palm Beach Surf Club, a lazy 30km of mid-air Autobahn ingenuity. Kreddittz argues, “We urgently need a faster, more efficient mode of transit from our mansions in Mosman to our mansions in Palm Beach.” When asked how on earth the sky road could actually be constructed, Frank says plainly, “Whatever the hell they did with the Harbour Bridge, just do that again, but bigger, derrr.”