In a story so blindingly absurd it could only be true, a British actress has been charged with importing a quantity of methamphetamine so monumental that the Australian Federal Police are reportedly considering erecting a statue of her made from confiscated baggies. The 28-year-old thespian, whose name has been withheld but whose credits allegedly include a role as 'Barmaid 3' in a BBC drama, allegedly attempted to bring nearly 300 million Australian dollars worth of crystal meth into the country via a suitcase that, one presumes, did not contain a neatly typed list of emergency contact numbers.
Let us pause to appreciate the sheer vulgar mathematics of this operation. Three hundred million Australian dollars. That is enough meth to keep every hedge fund manager in the City of London awake for approximately four centuries. It is enough meth to build a small mountain, or perhaps a large, crystalline replica of the Sydney Opera House, which would then be snorted by the entire population of Tasmania. It is a quantity so vast that one imagines the defendant's barrister will have to argue that it was merely a 'personal supply' for a very, very bad weekend.
Of course, the British consular assistance has been activated, because nothing says 'diplomatic priority' like a British national involved in a drug trafficking operation that makes Pablo Escobar look like a corner shop owner. One can only imagine the conversation at the Foreign Office: 'Yes, sir, it appears one of our citizens has been detained for importing enough meth to keep the entire eastern seaboard of Australia in a state of chronic euphoria for a decade. Shall we send a strongly worded letter?'
The actress's career, which was presumably on an upward trajectory (her IMDb page lists a role in a 2019 short film called 'An Awkward Silence'), is now on an indefinite hiatus. But let us not be too hasty in our judgment. Perhaps this is merely a new form of method acting, a bold exploration of the role of 'international drug mule'. Should she be acquitted, she will undoubtedly command higher fees. 'I need to really understand the character,' she will say. 'So I transported a tonne of Class A drugs across international borders. It was research.'
Meanwhile, the Australian authorities are no doubt patting themselves on the back. It is a brave new world where a British actress can become a human job creation scheme for the Australian justice system. Think of the lawyers, the court stenographers, the forensic accountants who will spend years trying to count the money that would have changed hands. It is a beautiful thing, in its own grotesque way.
So raise a glass of lukewarm gin from a plastic bottle, dear reader, to the indomitable spirit of British citizens abroad, who never miss an opportunity to remind us that the Empire may have crumbled, but its capacity for causing embarrassment on a global scale remains intact.
