Well, it’s set in June 2014, not June 2024.

The LNP rules the state, Campbell Newman is the premier and the punters are soon to pounce upon this political “boy wonder’’ and toss him out of office with just as much enthusiasm as they put him in there three years previously.

“My earnest hope is that they (the LNP) will learn from my mistakes,’’ Campbell says, munching thoughtfully on his wagyu burger at the historic Crown Hotel at Lutwyche.

“What mistakes?” I say eagerly. “Sacking too many public servants?’’

“Nah, I don’t know that that was a mistake,’’ replies Campbell.

“We didn’t sack public servants, we offered redundancies.

“And the performance of government actually improved as a result.

“The LNP’s mistake was to accept the Labor Party’s narrative on that instead of pushing back at every opportunity.’’

They should have owned it, he thinks – bought into his small government, free enterprise, tough-on-crime vision for Queensland where innovation, ideas and economic growth would spring from the efforts of individuals rather than government departments.

That he’s quite confident that he didn’t really make mistakes, but that his successors in the LNP did by not backing his regime which had lost the support of the voters, speaks loudly of his world view.

Almost everyone has a defining characteristic and with Newman it has to be his energy – unfailing energy – fused with confidence and eternal optimism.

David Crisafulli and the LNP post-2015 are something of a disappointment to him.

“Bitterness?’’ I ask.

“Not really, they might accuse me of it but, really, I want them to win,’’ he says.

“The potential of this state is just amazing.’’

Crisafulli, as most political pundits see it, is making himself a small target in this looming poll to finally get the Conservatives back in power after a 10-year hiatus.

This rankles Campbell Newman, largely because Campbell Newman is not your small-target type of guy.

Campbell Newman is more like a man sitting at the very tip of that giant concrete arrow that the British built on the northwest coast of Devon in World War II to give trainee RAF pilots clear, explicit direction on precisely where they should unload their bombs.

He courts criticism in the manner that more traditional politicians court votes.

Yet, let’s be fair to David, I suggest, as I take a slice of medium eye fillet and dip a chip in the mushroom sauce.

David Crisafulli has made massive inroads into the Queensland electorate, the polling shows it clearly, and the LNP have real, concrete policy on offer, like removing detention as the last resort in the Juvenile Justice Act.

So what’s his response to that?

“My response to that is: ‘Big whoop, what else?’ ” says Campbell.

“You see, to deal with an issue like this, you need to have a range of things in place.’’

To illustrate just how wide the range of policy options are, Campbell peels one off from the top of his head: redeploy hundreds of cops (temporarily) from traffic duty such as manning speed guns and breathalysers and put them on the streets to fight crime.

The motoring public has matured over the past few decades with motorists generally obeying the speed limit, he reasons.

“Those who aren’t obeying the rules are usually those doing 105km/h in a 100 zone, or those doing 190km/h in a 100km/h zone in a stolen car,’’ he says.

Cops, in Campbell’s world, would be less concerned about the 105km/h driver and more concerned with the 190km/h driver.

Here’s another one: legislate to ensure that self defence in the event of the home invasion won’t lead to a criminal prosecution of the homeowner.

The ex-army engineer who has been called many things, but never fearful, openly admits he and the wife lock not merely the house at night, but the bedroom door, largely because their up-market inner-city enclave has a crime problem.

If a householder stored a weapon in their bedroom to fend off an invader, and the invader was seriously injured, the householder’s legal position would be a bit tenuous given it could be easily argued there was an element of premeditation in the “assault’’.

Newman is well aware that the LNP would be set upon by civil libertarians and large chunks of the judiciary if they launched that as a policy but, in his view, that’s one of the major reasons to launch it – make yourself a target, then defend your position.

If there is any personal animosity in him, it’s not directed at individuals but at the broad philosophy of the Australian Labor Party and the culture it’s created.

Apart from a few years of LNP rule under Rob Borbidge and Newman, the ALP have been free to shape the contours of this state for decades, he says, and he loathes the result.

“They appointed the judges, the magistrates, they created the laws, they created the youth workers, they created the system, the way the prisons are run, the way youth detention systems are run, it has been totally of their making.

”And then there is this ecosystem of academics, who continue to bleat their nonsensical non-solutions.’’

“Then there is the Human Rights lobby who were quite happy to support the locking up of our borders during Covid – they waved all that through.

“But they won’t deal with criminals.

“I am sick of the bullshit of the Labor Party.’’

Centre-right political parties, he says, have to demonstrate determination, toughness and tenacity, in the manner of Federal Opposition leader Peter Dutton, whom he sees as doing a fairly good job.

“Centre-right parties who make clear unequivocal statements on these things will suffer in inner-city areas like Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane, but they will win big in outer suburban areas and regional and rural areas.’’

Here’s another unequivocal statement the LNP could make, providing opponents with a massive arrow to aim their bombs at.

They could oversee the creation of a new coal-fired power station.

“I wouldn’t build a power station,’’ says Newman, shifting in his seat and warming to the theme.

“I would say to the private sector, ‘I am calling tenders to build a power station. Build whatever you like. But this power station must be capable of producing this much energy 24/7.’’’

“If renewables are cheaper, than renewables win.

“If coal-fired power is cheaper, it will win.’’

As he says, the free market usually provides the best solution to whatever problem you have, and one of the most pressing problems facing Australia today is the growing cost of electricity.

Cheap electricity only a few years ago gave us an enormous competitive advantage which, in his view, is being foolishly squandered by people with childlike dreams of Australia becoming a green energy superpower.

Newman insists Australia is staring into the abyss. Corporatised government working in lock step with big, corporate Australia will stifle that wellspring of innovation which ignites in individuals anywhere, anytime, provided they are freed from the dead hand of government bureaucracy to pursue it.

As an investor he’s backed talented people skilled in agricultural robotics and seen the way new ideas can grow and flower rapidly into major money-making enterprises.

But the abyss, he insists, still with a cheery smile on his face, is looming for Australia

If you want to know what it looks like, go down to Victoria, which he believes is just beginning to feel the full force of a post-Dan Andrews malaise.

“I still know many people in business, and believe me, they are giving up on doing business in Victoria,’’ he says.

There’s a part of Queensland which loathes this man, and there’s a part of Queensland which loves him.

Would he ever go back into state politics?

“I wouldn’t rule it out,’’ he says, but he’s laughing when he says it.

It would only happen under extraordinary circumstances.

He would have to be called back to the throne, like some exiled Jacobite King, with people calling on him to run for a seat and, as he suggests, that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon.

Here’s another one: legislate to ensure that self defence

He’s polished off his burger, I’ve devoured the eye fillet.

We give them nine out of 10 and compliment the staff for their service as this Lutwyche pub which has been part of the city for 140 years.

Campbell, trim, fit and looking way younger than his 60 years, bounces out of the pub and back into the world, clearly looking forward to whatever else is coming his way.