A community of homeless people are now sheltering inside the Macquarie Point stadium business case near downtown Hobart.

A transport company employee who regularly drives a truck through the business case told Tasmanian Times that there were about 20 people now occupying the caverns.

“I reckon good on ’em,” he said. “Where else are they going to go? The three thousand dwellings that won’t be built at Macquarie Point because of the stadium being so big it occupies almost the entire site?”

Further investigations were able to confirm the report, leading to an interview with the spokesperson of the homeless group, a man known as Down There Cazaly.

“Yeah, we all have nicknames,” he explained. “I got mine ’cause I’m known for spectacular marks in my jocks.”

“Then there’s Buddy, because he used to sleep in Franklin Square. Two-litre Peter, ’cause that’s how much goon he drinks a day. Over here’s Gillon, ’cause you can’t believe anything he says. We’re a diverse bunch. Oh, and Rocky, who makes fancy avant garde sculptures out of street rubbish, because he’s a builder not a blocker. Frankly, he’s an absolute master of rubbish.”

DT Cazaly said the group had come together as they explored the business case, a journey that gradually revealed a fascinating world of both deep holes and lush padding.

“This thing has so many holes they must have got them wholesale,” he quipped. “Yeah nar, but seriously, you want to stay from the holes. Bad juju. The projected uses hole is more like a black hole. And that revenue hole, jeepers, looks like it could suck the whole state debt down into the underworld.”

Three months have already passed since the first settlers moved in, and most of the group remained content if a little nervous.

“On the other hand this business case is an extremely comfy fantasy world,” noted DT Cazaly.

“It’s like marinating yourself in a hot bath of bong water infused with cocaine oil and white elephant tears, watching leprechauns in tight shorts bend rainbows through the big sticks for pots of gold. In between ad breaks. And then at half-time the blokiest blokes who ever bloked have a blokefest in the sky with diamonds.”

“We realise every shaky premise of this business case will come crashing down very soon but for now even its flimsy walls us some comfort. A place out of the rain and wind. Something the state of Tasmania doesn’t appear to want to provide. It’s almost like housing for all should be a reality, but is just a dream.”

A spokesperson for the newly-created Homes Tasmania denied that they were not addressing the housing crisis.

“Just last week we printed 10,000 brochures with pictures of houses on them,” he explained. “And they’ll be delivered to 10,000 households that already have houses, to convince them that we’re doing something about building houses. Any way you look at it, that adds up to a lot of housing activity.”