Living la dolce vita Down Under with Silvio

Tony Abbott could pluck a feather out of Vladimir's Putin's downy cap, sack Joe Hockey and appoint Silvio Berlusconi as treasurer immediately – preferably retrospectively.

It would gazump Putin's plan for Silvio as Russia's economic minister but frankly, Australia needs him more. Silvio speaks the Aboriginal language of bunga bunga, and is as Australian as the Bungle Bungles in the Kimberley.

Let's face it, Hockey won a small part of his defamation case but lost in damages and costs. Berlusconi is a born leader with natural implanted hair, a white flashy set of capped teeth and the bearing of a shortish man wearing lifts. He stays out of jail despite being convicted for contributing to the prostitution of a minor, Ruby, The Heart Stealer from Morocco – a conviction that has since been overturned.

He could get the economic blood flowing through the veins of this country as if it was on Viagra. We'd be pumping, pumping, pumping full-time and pimping, pimping, pimping part-time but, party, party, party all the time.

Life after Joe would feel like one does when rehabbed from a toxic relationship. There would be no chance of the GST going up to 15 per cent under the Italian Stallion, it would become optional like his own taxable income. Black money would become legal tender again, every bit as valuable as Bitcoin. The mafia could branch out from doing garbage, and back into the maintenance of grapes, wine and drugs.

The country would become a tax haven again, attracting the sort of money that would make the Murdochs and Packers blush. Billionaires would no longer have to use the lonely windy Cayman Islands, volcanic Vanuatu or flat Holland to hide their money and not enjoy it except on short visits, or waving at it as it rushes past on its way overseas. The Berlusconi economy would allow you to wear it on your sleeves, your neck, on every one of your pinkies with a half a dozen wristwatches on each arm. Wealthy people in Australia would no longer need to cringe, explain things on Australian Story, have underground tennis courts or memorise Swiss banking passcodes.

The Arts Ministry would be immediately taken from the hands of one man, George Brandis, and given to another man, Silvio Berlusconi, who would back strip clubs down on their luck in Kings Cross, cause poles to be planted in every park for pole dancers to frolic on in public and topless if it's sunny. The budget would not be the arduous affair it has been under Hockey, staying up nights like swatting for an exam, heavy-hooded bags under his eyes, face as wrinkled as a blackboard with arithmetic written on it, but rather an exercise in stripping costs, stripping down and asset stripping our own resources, instead of letting the Chinese do it for us. Berlusconi would promise "to outsource Australian labour and let the world work for us".

The reinstatement of the black economy would attract such numbers of traders and merchants that we would have to declare the whole country duty-free, available to anyone, even without an air ticket. There would be a better class of immigrant, not the dirt-poor Iranian, frightened Syrians, but cashed-up Russians, African dictators and army chiefs from south-east Asia and China.

Abbott would, like Putin tried to do, give Berlusconi Australian citizenship and passports for all his multiple personalities, matching all of his offshore accounts so paperwork will be cut to zero. With Silvio as treasurer, all Australian housing would go through the roof, not just in Sydney but perhaps with the minor exception of Aboriginal housing, which would be decreased so far even they will be able to afford it.