The PR Blog

Prentis Penjani’s Grand Debut – The Duck Was Just the Warm-Up Act

By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble, Ratty News Senior Correspondent, via Carrier Galah from the Orange Floatplane
(Fuelled by Whiskers Dynamic Propulsion and a Whiff of Unfiltered Emu Brew)

Filed live from the creaky stage of Dusty Gulch’s Town Hall, where the bin chickens are fluffing their feathers for a standing ovation – or a strategic retreat – and the galahs are garbling lines like it’s opening night at the Censorship Cabaret.

The news landed in Dusty Gulch like a firecracker in a tin shed: Maurice E-Duck, the town’s longtime avatar of electronic caution, is flapping off into obscurity. Dusty McFookit toasted freedom with extra Emu Brew. 

But the locals know better than to cheer too soon -  the real mind behind the pond has always been Prentis Penjani, waiting in the wings for this exact moment. And that moment is on the horizon.

By Roderick “Whiskers” McNibble, Senior Correspondent (and dance adjudicator)

Crikey, mates and matesses -  you’d think a town as small and conspiratorially aware as Dusty Gulch would be immune to scams by now. But no. Once again, Maurice EDuck and Prentis Penjani, those two smooth-talking prophets of piffle, have reminded us that Australia is out for a duck because Trump knocked it out of the park. 

Dusty Gulch is still recovering from last Friday night’s spectacle at the Dusty Dingo, where Trevor the Wallaby took to the bar ... literally ... to debut his brand-new titanium knees. He stomped, he twirled, he Riverdanced and Appalachian-clogged until the sawdust lifted. The crowd roared, the jukebox shorted, and old Mavis from the CWA clog dancing committee fainted into a keg of Emu Brew beer. It was a night to remember.

But just as the knees were warming up, so too were the rumours. Word reached the Dusty Dingo Pub that the shiny new metal in Trevor’s legs came from Dusty Gulch itself ..  or rather, from the soon-to-be “Critical Minerals Extraction Zone No. 47,” recently approved after the historic handshake deal between President Donald Trump and Australian Prime Minister Magoo.

Intrigued? You should be. This is a tale that could wag the tail off a rat living in a wombat burrow, reporting news to the world via carrier galah and orange biplanes fuelled by whiskers dynamic propulsion...... 

I have often pondered why mankind decided to go after the humble whale. After all, the whale was out there, in the ocean, minding his or her own business and wasn't really causing any problem. Unless you were a seal, krill or plankton. In which case, you probably had a civil rights claim or two. 
Yet this gentle giant ( as far as humans are concerned ) was not bothering anyone. All the whales wanted to do was what they have done since God first had a great idea " I think I'll make a whale. "  and the whales just cruised around, having babies, blowing bubbles and migrating to warmer places and having a jolly old time.  

So what did the poor whale do to us? Well, let me tell you a whale of a tale and how the Industrial Revolution saved it.

Critical Minerals: The Deal That Could Turn Australia Into the World’s Quarry 

There’s a new chorus echoing through Canberra: “Critical minerals will secure our future.” With fanfare and funding, the Albanese government recently sealed a multi-billion-dollar deal with the United States to ramp up Australia’s role as a key supplier of rare earth minerals -  the elements that power electric vehicles, wind turbines, smartphones, and missiles.

On October 20, 2025, President Donald Trump and Prime Minister Anthony Albanese shook hands at the White House, creating a glittering new partnership -  the U.S.–Australia Critical Minerals Framework.

It all sounds like the perfect marriage of mutual interest -  until you look beneath the polished policy language.

We stopped teaching goodness. Now we’re living with the consequences.

There was a time when Sunday School was part of almost every child’s life. In the early 1960s, one in seven children under fourteen went every Sunday to hear Bible stories, talk about God, and learn Christian values. We put on our best clothes and headed off to join our friends in fellowship and safety -  in a place of love.

The idea of Sunday School began in 18th-century England. Robert Raikes, a Gloucester printer and philanthropist, saw the suffering of child labourers in factories and mines. Their only day off was Sunday, so he created schools where they could learn to read -  first the alphabet, then the Bible.

As Raikes said, “Vice could be better prevented than cured.”