Read this for what it is.
Two dusty young blokes are leaning over a fencing rail looking forlorn. One is covered head to toe in bruises, the other is absolutely reeking of grog and kangaroo from the previous night out on the town. The year is 1891.
“Mate!” I said, “did you seriously wrap your Mums horse around a tree on the way home from the pub last night?!”
“Yeah,” Sean said, eyes firmly fixed on the dusty brown earth in front of him, “I was coming out of that set of ‘S’ behinds not far from our front gate. I thought I had the cops behind me, so I gunned it and she went sideways. Rear passenger side hoof caught gravel, took out a white post, and then I hit the tree. Dad reckon’s it’s a write off.”
“Crikey!” said I, “what made you think the cops were behind you?”
“Well, remember how you and I smoked up the nags in front of the pub, and we did lay a serious amount of shoe on the road incidentally,” he said wincing, “well, I reckon that new barmaid sent a message down the telegraph line to the cops. They were just about to pull in when I saw them, they were driving one of those new pursuit horse’s, you know like the one we saw in the ‘Advocate’ the other day. Anyway, I didn’t turn the headlights on when I snuck out from across the road. When I was sure they weren’t following me, I gunned it all the way out of town. ‘Reckon they must have heard me ripping it up.”
“Why were you still going so bloody quick all the way out near your joint though?”
“This is where I feel like a bit of a goose.” Sean said, crimson beginning to show in his cheeks, “We were both pretty pissed, we got cut off last night if you can remember, but I thought I saw blue and red lights in the horses side mirror about a mile out from the pub.”
“Righto, so what?”
“Well, remember how you, Julian, and me ate those kangaroo rissoles, plus all of that curried cabbage stuff Phil’s missus put with it, and those beans that were some sort of a salady thing thing?”
“Yeah, what’s the point?”
“It turns out the blue and red lights I saw was actually the result of Julian lighting his farts last night when he got home.”
“Bahahahahahaha! Seriously?” I said.
“Yep, he burnt his Mums house to the ground, you reckon I’m in the poo with Mum and Dad, wait until you see him!”
Fin.
Click the picture up above of the lass with the ukulele. ‘Stairway To Heaven’ follows.
N.
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