So ima­gine if the worst thing in the world* hap­pens, and Wel­ling­ton loses its bid to con­tin­ue host­ing the Sev­ens. What should we do? 

Simple! Just don’t tell any­one. Richard Maclean at the coun­cil is great at com­mu­nic­at­ing truths so surely he’d be even bet­ter at telling lies. We just pre­tend that the sev­ens are still on. Hire a couple dozen stu­dents to run up and down the field in the sta­di­um, and who’d know the dif­fer­ence?  No one actu­ally goes along for the rugby do they? People will still get dressed up, there’ll be glass and vomit and extra amounts of hate crimes (hey bogans who threw cans at my friends who dared to hold hands in pub­lic: you’re fuck­ing losers) all over the streets as usu­al, and we get to keep that 16 mil­lion dol­lars or so that the games bring to the city. This fly would be well-happy, because I do love to live in shit, after all. 

*Not really