(ALL SCREAM)
LES: For God's sake, girls,
I left Queensland so less people would try to kill me, not more!
Mate, that lady is Doreen Bognor, brothel queen of western Sydney.
Next stop, Bangkok.
OK? Go on. Get outta here.
Come on, you're telling me you're not worried about blowback from Doreen?
We had a good chat and she's, uh...
..rock-solid now.
I thought I'd do a follow-up on that brothel madam you were looking for.
Doreen Bognor's not missing.
But you were looking for her two weeks ago
and no-one's seen her since and now I've found her car and...
Forget the car!
Jesus Christ, didn't they teach you anything down in Goulburn?!
I just wanted to know how Bevan Bender's doing?
They're not even sure he's gonna pull through.
So, hope you packed some spare undies, mate.
'Cause... you're not going anywhere.
(COCKS GUN)
Done.
Yeah, righto.
See you, then.
(RAIN FALLS)
(TRAIN HORN TOOTS)
You believe in ghosts?
Well, I bloody do now.
NARRATOR: And that's how it happened.
After a fun-filled few weeks in the Emerald City,
Les Norton found himself face-to-face
with the dead brothel madam he'd inadvertently buried
under 20 feet of concrete two weeks earlier.
Or so he thought.
(THEME MUSIC)
EDDIE: You're pulling me chain? GEORGIA: Nope.
Twin sister. BILLY: Identical?
What do you think, genius? I dunno.
Dolores Ann Bognor, 38.
Thumper reckons she's been up in Thailand for six years
and popped up on their radar a few weeks ago
when she came back to Sydney.
(SIGHS) Thank Christ for that. I can put away me bloody crucifix.
I wouldn't just yet.
He also did some digging, and by all accounts, you took out the nice one.
Yeah, right. Doreen's a 24-carat psycho.
Yep.
Apparently, this one makes Idi Amin look like Johnny Farnham.
Well, that's just sensational, isn't it?
I come up here to celebrate another successful title defence
and I've gotta bloody deal with this.
Come on, boss. How was I supposed to know she had an identical twin?
That's what I pay you for, isn't it? Yeah, but she's from way out west.
I can only stretch myself so thin.
Mmm.
No, you're right.
No, you're right, yeah. Yeah.
No, shit happens, I suppose. Can't be helped.
OK, who's up for another drink?
Good idea, boss.
Wait, so, that's it?
What, is there a problem? Well, kinda.
I mean, youse did knock this lady's sister off.
Les... No, it's alright, Ed.
You know, let the young fella speak his mind.
Well, it's just...
You know, by all reports, she's not the forgiving type.
Well, she'll just have to learn, then.
Blood's thicker than water, but.
Yeah, and concrete's thicker than blood.
Look, this Dolores character, you know,
she might be a little bit upset by what's happened,
but she can't be confused as to why.
You think about it, Les.
Doreen opens a brothel on my territory
despite numerous warnings not to.
Then she stocks it full of under-age Thai sex slaves.
I try to remedy the situation.
Then she tries to hollow out my new favourite redhead.
What am I supposed to do?
You're supposed to pay her a little visit
and let me knock this on the head once and for all.
Uh-uh. The last thing we need is a turf war
splashed across the pages of the Tele.
No, Georgie's right.
This whole Dolores situation, it's a bloody sideshow. Yeah?
We knocked her sister, she tried to return the compliment.
Now we're square.
You know, she can go and bloody crawl under a rock,
if she knows what's good for her.
And if she doesn't?
How long have you worked here, son?
Couple of weeks. Couple of weeks.
Hey, Georgie?
Tell Les how long I've been involved in this rattle.
I don't think the records go back that far.
(ALL CHUCKLE)
I think Dad started doing your books in 1958.
(WHISTLES) 1958, eh?
So, you see, Les, this isn't my first season in the game, you know?
Which is how I know, no matter how good a rookie thinks they are,
you can't skip reserve grade and go straight into first grade.
And if you can't be convinced otherwise,
then you go and get an early shower.
Now...
Now, am I sorry about what happened?
Not really. Not at all.
Sometimes, Les, you know, you've got to make an example of people.
Just for the good of the game.
Now, I'm gonna make sure Dolores understands that.
The real question is...
..do you?
Um... h-hundred per cent, boss.
Yeah. That is the smartest thing you've said yet.
I'm telling you, next time, just keep your piehole shut, alright?
There's a limit to the future in getting chippy with Price Galese.
I was just stating the obvious. Well, don't.
There's blokes watching planes come in at Mascot
from under six feet of tarmac for less than that.
Bullshit.
Les, how do you think I got my job? Huh?
Now, come on, less whining, more punching! Let's go!
That's it. Straight down the line.
Five more.
Four. Three. Two.
One! That's him!
See? We're gonna make a pug out of you in no time, brother!
Whoo!
Hey, how'd that lady copper go the other night?
What are you talking about?
Don't be like that with me. Huh?
Certainly took your time taking her to the train station.
She got a cab home, for your information.
Tss! Yeah? And that's it?
Course that's it.
Still... she's a bit of alright for a copper, eh?
Well, she's cuter than Thumper, if that's what you're getting at.
(SCOFFS) You can play it cool with me all you want, brother.
I saw the sparks flying between you two.
Come on.
Mate... I'm a tourist in this town.
Sparks are all you're gonna get.
(GRUNTS) Come on. That's it.
LAUREN: Oh, for fuck's sake, Lizzie,
I look more like a shearer than that drip!
Oh, God, he's worse.
He looks like he'd sooner mount the sheep than shear it.
Yeah, well, I don't have a week, Lizzie. That is the whole point.
I need this role cast yester...
Well, can you call me if you think of anything?
(INHALES SHARPLY) Everything alright?
Oh, not really.
You know that Choice Beer commercial I was telling you about?
Yep. Not looking so choice right now.
We just lost our highly sought after leading man.
Now he's gone to ground, taking my career with him.
Ah. They can't throw you under the bus for that, can they?
Oh, you just watch 'em.
I'm already on thin ice after last year's Christmas party.
(HUMS PLAYFULLY)
(CAMERA CLICKS)
I have been known to take client servicing too seriously.
I am guaranteed to get the flick
if I can't find a replacement for this goose!
What's the earn?
Oh, it's three grand for a national buyout.
Three grand? Sydney has to be full of posers chasing that payday.
He is a hard-as-nails shearer
and these city blokes, they're all too goddamn pretty.
He has to feel real or the whole thing won't work.
Fair enough.
Bottom line is...
..I need a big old country bloke with a head like a bag of cement
and I need him on a plane to Brisbane day after tomorrow.
What?
NARRATOR: Now, in all his years,
no-one had ever accused Les of being especially creative.
In fact, his entire body of work was limited to a short run
as the arse end of the donkey in the Dirranbandi Nativity play.
Right about now, he wished he'd stuck at it.
Done this before, have you?
Yeah, it's, uh... it's me first time. Yeah.
Feel a little out of my depth, to be honest with you.
Got any tips?
Look, if you don't mind, I'm trying to focus here.
Still trying to find my motivation. (SIGHS)
Jeez, I would have thought three grand and a trip to Brissie
was motivation enough, but that's just me.
WOMAN: Les Norton?
So, you had a look at the script?
Yeah, I had a... quick squiz outside.
Any questions? Well, is it any good?
Excuse me? Bowen Lager? It's a good drop, is it?
How should we know? White man's firewater.
Uh, Les, this is Hobo.
He is the youngest director to ever win the Golden Lion at Cannes.
He is amazing.
Oh, don't believe the hype, kemosabe.
I'm just a painter whose canvas happens to be life.
24 frames a second. You dig?
Yeah, I think so.
Are you into the truth, Les?
Oh, it's... it's alright, I suppose.
It's everything, brother, man.
Just... be... fucking... real.
OK?
Righto. (CLEARS THROAT)
Now, I want you to pretend to drink from an imaginary beer.
Well, a middy or a schooner? Doesn't matter.
Schooner, then, considering it's free. (CHUCKLES)
Now, all I'm after is the subtext.
Show me, don't tell me.
You do know what subtext is, don't you?
Yeah. Yeah, I reckon I'll figure it out. (COUGHS)
Now, sip from the beer
and then barrel the camera and say,
"Bowen Lager. It's the new beer my friends and I enjoy the most."
(LAUGHS)
Is something funny, amigo?
Oh, I was just seeing if you could help me find the subtext in that.
Les. It's a serious question.
Funny man, eh? Where do we find these fucking morons?!
Hobo, please, just calm down.
Just say the lines and leave the writing to the professionals. OK?
Yeah. Uh, sorry about that. (CLEARS THROAT)
Beginner's nerves.
We'll just... go for one, eh? (CLEARS THROAT)
Ah!
Bowen Lager. It's the beer me and me mates drink.
(BELCHES)
What the fuck was that? Hobo, I am so sorry.
I was just trying to think outside the box.
But there are a bunch of others outside...
Just send them all home.
Hobo, please, we will find our guy...
Send them home!
Tina?
(CLEARS THROAT)
Who the fuck do you think you are?
Uh... Les Norton? No.
You are a goddamn revelation.
I am? He is?
He's not.
Sign him up before someone else does.
Hobo, please, it will change the entire crib.
Then go, man! Lightning doesn't strike twice!
Go!
You...
..have a talent, brother Les.
A rare talent.
(LES CLEARS THROAT)
THUMPER: Amazing how many dickheads
don't pay their parking fines, isn't it?
EMILY: Beyond.
Are you sure this is the best use of my time, Sarge?
Didn't spend all that time training just to sit behind a desk.
Or behind a blackjack table at the Kelly Club, for that matter.
Fair go, Sarge.
I was just trying to practise
some of that effective crime management you told me about.
Not at the Kelly Club, you don't.
It's off limits until you earn your stripes.
When do you reckon that'll be? You tell me, princess.
(INTERCOM BEEPS)
WOMAN: That Bognor woman's on the line again, Sarge.
Third time this morning. Line three.
You right there? Uh... no, yep.
I'm, um... just trying to earn my stripes.
Uh... keep 'em coming.
Door.
Unbelievable!
Sunshine State, here we come.
Yeah, you know why you're heading back to your...
..hillbilly heaven so soon?
Uh, because I've got a rare gift. No.
Because I'm a goddamn revelation. No!
Because of me, Leslie.
It means for the next two days, I am your boss.
Yeah, but...
And as your boss, I am warning you, do not fuck this up.
I've tipped you into the easiest three grand you're ever gonna make,
so start thinking more like an actor
and less like a knuckle-dragging bouncer.
You reckon you can do that?
I'm getting paid to look dumb and drink beer.
I was born for this role.
God save us.
NARRATOR: So, while Les was heading back
for a few days of fun on home turf,
Price was in his own happy place, nestled at his favourite table
at his favourite eastern suburbs restaurant.
(SLURPS) Um, yeah, I'll take another. Thanks, cue ball.
Are you gonna stick with the chardy or change it up for one of these?
No, it's a sav blanc. I'm fine, thanks.
So, Dolores...
May I call you Dolores?
Oh, aren't we a gentleman? (CHUCKLES)
So, still no news about your sister's whereabouts?
No, I'm afraid not.
Gee. You must be worried sick. Yeah.
Sick as. Yeah.
Well, Dolores, let's cut to the chase. Um...
I just wanted to sit down and...
..break bread with you
and make sure this whole thing doesn't, um, escalate
into something that it needn't.
What whole thing's that?
Well...
..I believe that you and your sister have created quite the empire
out in the western suburbs.
Yep, yep. We're heaps entrepreneurial.
(CHUCKLES) Yes, I've heard.
And look, I, you know...
..I just wanted to assure you that I've got no designs whatsoever
on what you've created out there.
Yeah, honestly, you know, the last time I drove up Parramatta Road
was in, uh, 1979, and I'm still recovering.
No, look, I'm more than happy with my humble patch here in the east.
The jewels of the west are all yours, my dear.
Aw! Jeez, gosh, thanks.
Um... there's just the small matter of you whacking my sister.
Well, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.
Really?
Your goons haven't heard of security cameras?
Well, either way, there's the equally small matter
of you hiring Melbourne's number one hit man to knock me as a payback.
(SCOFFS)
Why don't we call it quits?
Why don't you suck my knob?
(BOTH LAUGH)
Yeah, you know... Yeah.
..you know, I was like you once upon a time. I was...
I was full of vim and vigour, out to take on all comers.
And then what? You got old and crusty?
No, then I got wise.
Which is how I know you don't want to start a war.
Nobody wins. But you'll definitely lose.
So, how about... how about we go back to how things were before?
You mean before my sister was dead?
No, before you opened a brothel on my turf
and stocked it full of schoolkids,
forcing me to put you out of business.
Permanently.
You really think you could?
Hmm. Oh, you betcha. Yeah.
You see, at the end of the day,
you're just another smut queen with delusions of grandeur.
Is that right? Yeah.
So, you know, I reckon you should just smarten up,
because if you don't, I might be forced to, you know,
get me shots after all and head out west.
Rooty Hill, Box Hill, Surry Hills.
You name the fucking hill, I'll flatten it.
How about Bellevue Hill?
You have such a nice home there.
And a lovely family. What, two gorgeous kids?
How old are they now?
Are they looking for work experience placement or...? Mmm.
I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.
I'm just doing what your mother should have done
before you slipped out of her festering clam.
Is that right?
I reckon it was what Doreen would have wanted.
Yeah.
Well, keep this up, and pretty soon you'll be able to ask her yourself.
Yeah, OK. Thanks, Grandad! Time for your afternoon nap!
I'll see you soon, though!
(QUIETLY) You slimy fuck.
(SLURPS)
How'd it go, then?
ARTHIT: How'd you go, boss?
Bloody nobody. He's a dead man.
ARTHIT: Here, take a load off, boss.
(SIGHS) Oh! Iced VoVos.
Arthit, you're a fuckin' saint.
(GROANS)
Mmm-mmm!
God, after all that time up in Thailand,
a bit of real Aussie food goes such a long way.
Oh, tell me about it.
If I never see another tom yum goong again, it'll be too soon.
Mmm! (LAUGHS) (CHUCKLES)
(PHONE RINGS)
Oh, leave it.
It'll be our Thai friends just wanting to know
where their missing girls and money are.
Yeah. Persistent little fuckers.
(GROANING) Ooh.
What? Is that Malcolm?
Yeah. What's he doing down there?
Uh... He bit Montana again.
What? I have to look after my girls.
(SIGHS) Well, what are you gonna do with him?
Hmm, I dunno.
What do you reckon, Malcolm? (TRIES TO SPEAK)
Should I feed you to the pigs? (TRIES TO SHOUT)
Shut up! Shut up!
Come on, boss.
You're still upset about your lunch with Price, aren't you?
No! No, I'm not.
Alright, maybe... maybe I am a little bit.
Maybe sending... Wrongside to knock off Sydney's most powerful crime boss
was a mistake.
Maybe.
But I should have been the one to take down
that condescending cocksucker anyway.
Yeah. I'm the one that now has to make it right.
The only question is how.
And how to get past his three stooges.
There's no road to Price
that doesn't lead through those boneheads.
Mmm.
I know what Doreen would have said.
She'd have said...
..find the weak spot and stick your finger in up to the elbow.
Oh. Don't you have a home to go to?
Oh, you know how it is.
Government backbenchers won't corrupt themselves.
How'd you go with the extra psycho sister?
Did you straighten her out?
Oh, yeah, yeah, I suppose so.
I tell you, she's a bloody funny one.
Yeah, she might have a few rungs missing off her ladder,
if you ask me.
Yeah, I reckon you might be right there.
Yeah, no, still... (SAFE LOCK CLICKS)
..I think she got the message.
Oh, it's just a precaution.
I booked Foghorn McCormack for the next few weeks.
Just a precaution.
Huh!
Hey, do you know, when I first met your old man -
God, rest in peace, old boy -
I was a bagman for an SP bookie at Harold Park
and, you know, he was just fresh off the boat,
I couldn't understand a bloody word he was talking about,
but by Christ, he could count.
Bit racist.
Yeah, no, he was a fair bit older than I was.
I was just a boy. I was 19, 20.
Wouldn't have known cat shit from strawberry jam
if you'd taken out the pips.
And yet look at me now, eh? Top of the pile.
Doling out slings to the most powerful bastards in the state.
With his own flesh and blood at me side.
God, it's funny how things turn out, isn't it?
I'm sorry. I must have fallen asleep. You were saying?
(CHUCKLES) No, it's alright. I was just, you know, boring myself.
Um... do you need a hand with anything before I shoot through?
Not unless you'd like to help me balance the ledger.
Oh, Christ, wouldn't know where to start.
No, Pia's got ballet recital tonight.
I dunno, Swan Lake or some bloody thing.
Yeah, you wouldn't want to miss that.
Yeah. Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?
I'll still be here at this rate. (CHUCKLES)
So, Mr Norton, it looks like your suite's ready.
My sweet?
Yes, sir. I hope that's OK.
Sweet.
Suite. Correct.
I see here the incidentals have been taken care of as well.
Yeah, that's about right. Like, uh... Like what? Like a newspaper?
Of course. We'll have a Courier-Mail outside your door when you wake up.
Plus room service, minibar, spa treatment.
Looks like it's all being picked up by the production.
Beauty. All good?
Ah, sweet.
Alright, I'm just gonna go and freshen up a bit
and I'll meet you back down here in an hour or so for a drink?
Whatever you say, boss. Mm-hm.
(CHUCKLES) How many oysters is normal again?
Then an even dozen it is, my good man.
And a bottle of something nice.
What colour's that again?
Then the chablis sounds delightful.
Actually, uh, you'd better chuck in half a dozen cans of XXXX.
Yeah. Just in case.
Righto. Hooroo.
(LIFT BELL DINGS)
Well, if it isn't Steve Stunning.
What the bloody hell are you doing here?!
Oh, what, a bloke can't have a beer with his own brother these days?
I wasn't talking to you. Grungle, old mate, come here.
(GROWLS) Hey?
When did you get in? Oh, about two schooners ago.
Mate, it's good to see you. Yeah.
How's the wing?
Oh, about a week away from being able to sit you on your arse again.
Oh, yeah? Just say the word. (CHUCKLES)
Oi! Over here.
Lauren Johnson, meet my big brother, Murray.
Ah!
Yeah, I'm pretty sure youse two spoke on the phone.
Lozza's my flatmate from Sydney. Yeah, and his boss in Brisbane.
Nice to meet you, Lozza.
Well, good. You are a sly one, Les.
You didn't tell me
that your much better-looking brother lived in Brisbane.
(SCOFFS) Here we go.
Yeah, I'm not from around here.
I spoke to Les on the phone
and he mentioned he was gonna be in town for work,
so... just drove down for the night.
Where from? (CLICKS TONGUE)
Dirranbandi?! Jesus Christ. How long did that take?
Oh, pedal to the metal, about eight hours.
You drove eight hours for a beer with this shithead?
Jeez! Mate, I like your boss already.
So... tell me...
..what happened to your big, strong arm?
(CLEARS THROAT LOUDLY)
Uh... nothing. It's...
Who's up for a drink, eh?
What, so, they just put that in a cast
for shits and giggles, then, did they?
What are... are you drinking?
Um, what's going on here?
What, you honestly didn't tell her?
She's your flatmate, mate.
Tell me what, Leslie? Oh, nothing. (CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY)
Let it go, huh?
Weren't you interested in why he blew into Sydney in such a rush?
Oh, honey, I tuned out after "rugby league".
You see? She tuned out after "rugby league".
Well, that's ironic.
(CLEARS THROAT) Murray?
Oh, come on, handsome. You've come this far.
What?
I can keep a secret, I promise.
Nah, nah, I really shouldn't. Oh.
But, you know, seeing as you're his boss and all,
it all started at this year's grand final.
The Dirranbandi Devils
versus our longtime rivals, the Brewarrina Bandicoots.
Muzz.
We're down by two, see, with a minute to go when we got a penalty.
(WHISTLE BLOWS) 20 metres out from their line.
Whew! Right in front of the sticks.
Now, a kick at goal would have levelled the scores,
but no-one likes a draw, right?
So Les takes a tap and hits it up.
Ooh!
I get a little inside ball off to Muzz...
And I'm in and away.
Little fend, then slip it back to Les,
before Bevan Bender introduces me to his elbow.
While I go off for the winning try
totally unaware of what's just happened.
And when I turn around, there's the Bender boys
standing over and taunting Muzza like a pack of inbred jackals.
What a piece of shit!
I hope he's blowing his nose through the back of his head from now on.
Oh, don't look at me. I was off with the fairies.
It's bush league, Loz. I mean, stuff like that happens all the time.
Mm.
So, what, this Bevan Bender prick just gets away with it?
(CHEERING AND JEERING)
Yeah, look, I just want to thank the boys from Brewarrina
for driving all the way down here.
I know it's a long drive
and it'll be a hell of a lot longer on the way home without this, hey?
(ALL CHEER, LAUGH)
Nah, look, look, seriously,
I just want to thank everyone for such a great day.
The ladies here at the CWA for the sangas and the lamingtons.
You know, uh, Rick here at the pub.
(ALL CHEER)
Uh, especially the ref, Steve here, Boofhead.
Mate, he's not a bad ref as far as coppers go.
(LAUGHTER)
Uh, nah, look, it was a hard game,
could have gone either way if it weren't for the man of the match,
but the nurse reckons he still can't remember his own name
after that cheap shot from Bevan Bender.
(LAUGHTER)
But Bender boys have never been the most courageous of blokes,
and in all fairness, my brother's never been the smartest.
MAN: Oi, Muzza!
So, just give it up for the man of the match, Murray Norton.
(ALL CHEER)
Bullshit.
That's it? You gave him a bit of a spray?
Oh! Please tell me that is not the end of the story.
(CAR HORN HONKS)
MAN: Bevan, you wanker! Hurry up! (CAR HORN HONKS)
Come on, Bevan, we gotta go!
Pretty sure they're waiting for you.
Let 'em. You and me are gonna sort this out now.
Just... come back next year.
Oh, fuck next year! Let's go now!
Mate, the only place I'm going is home.
What? Afraid I'm gonna hurt you?
Like I hurt your piss-weak fucking brother?!
See, the thing about my brother is,
he's gonna get better sooner or later.
While you and your brothers,
you're still gonna have to take your socks off just to count to 20.
When you're busy not tugging each other off, obviously.
You fucking...
Arggh!
MAN: Hey, what was that? WOMAN: I dunno.
Shhhhit!
Dickhead!
Fuck!
What happened? The fucking idiot took a shot at me!
He went arse over tit. I didn't lay a finger on him!
Yeah, you try telling that to a drunken busload of Brewarrina boys.
I'm telling the truth.
And I'm sure when Bevan comes to, he'll confirm it, but right now,
they'll assume you had a square-up and they'll want one too.
Yeah, they wanna have a square-up, they know where I am.
Les, I am the only cop for 100 miles.
This thing gets out of control, people will get hurt. Proper hurt.
Look, I'll write it up as an accident.
Just make yourself scarce. For everyone's sake. Jesus!
MAN: Hey, Bevan? What happened to him?!
Bev! Stay back, fellas.
(ALL SHOUT) Stay back. He's taken a tumble.
He's OK. Looks worse than it is.
Call an ambulance. Just don't touch him.
Terry, don't touch him. Nobody touch him.
Wow. That got dark.
Told you not to ask. Mmm.
So, um... how is Bevan now?
Has he come good? (SNORTS)
Well, depends what you mean by 'good'.
He's still in hossie with bleeding on the brain.
Which I'm... sceptical about, for obvious reasons.
Still, everyone reckons he's way better company than he was before.
(CHUCKLES) I reckon he'd be thanking old Les
for doing him a favour if he wasn't...
..you know, in a vegetative coma.
There's still the other Bender boys, but.
Oh, come on. I'm sure they've forgotten all about it by now.
I mean, what are they gonna do? Hunt you down and kill you?
Don't worry, Bevvy. We'll hunt him down and kill him.
Yeah! Les, your boss is right.
All you gotta do is swan around Sydney
till he wakes up and explains what really happened,
then come strolling on home like the prodigal son.
Is that right? Bloody oath.
And in the meantime, here you are in Brisbane with a bar tab and...
..you don't have to start work for 12 hours.
Well, you know, I can go one better.
Let's get a cab, go somewhere fancy for dinner.
(ALL LAUGH)
(SYNTH POP MUSIC PLAYS)
(LAUGHS)
Bloody Torvill and Dean.
Oh, grab a partner, mate, and come back out.
This disc jockey's unreal!
Nah, I'm alright here with Grungle. Oh, don't be a party-pooper!
What about her?
What ABOUT her?
Well, she's been giving you boys the eye since she got here.
Well, she can keep it. (CACKLES)
Oh, this is a bit rich coming from you dickheads, isn't it?
You're not exactly Bo and Luke Duke.
I'm not even gonna pretend to know who they are, Lozza.
Besides, my dance card's full.
WOMAN: Les!
Mine too.
Hey, Muzz, Lozza, this here's Elaine.
She's, uh... yeah, she's one of the top flight attendants
for Ansett Airlines.
Oh, turn it up, Les.
They reckon she'll be running the company soon enough.
Good to meet you, Elaine. You up for a boogie?
I've got a layover tomorrow, so I'm up for anything.
Ooh! Giddy-up.
What are we waiting for, then, eh?
Oh, actually...
..it is a school night for me and Les,
so maybe we just grab a couple of drinks and call it stumps, eh?
Got a big day tomorrow.
Yeah. Yeah.
Sounds perfectly realistic.
(ALL LAUGH) ♪ I love the way you talk
♪ You walk
♪ Your smile, your style
♪ Like now, like wow
♪ Wipeout, no doubt
♪ And I was gone the moment I laid eyes on you. ♪
(SNORING)
(PHONE RINGS)
(GRUNTS)
(GROANS) Hello?
(SIGHS) This is he.
(WOMAN MOANS) I see.
And what exactly is a runner?
(KNOCK AT DOOR) Lozza.
Lozza, get up. The runner's here.
Lozza! (KNOCK AT DOOR)
Good to see you, Muzz.
(WHIMPERS)
Hi. Les, is it? (GROANS) Yeah.
I'm April. How's it going? Yeah, good.
We don't often get big ads up here,
so we're pulling out all the stops to make it feel real.
Like, the guy pulling the beers, he's the actual publican.
Can you believe it?! Amazing.
My God, wait till you see the pub.
A real working man's drinking hole. Mmm...
The locals almost rioted when we told them
we were shutting it down for the shoot.
They'll get over it.
NARRATOR: Everything's relative, I suppose.
Let me know if you need anything. Oh, I'm good.
Les's eyes were watering like taps
and his face looked like something you'd find on a pirate flag.
As for his hangover - ha!
It was already big enough to sell advertising on.
But I guess it could have been worse.
There could have been a dozen extras
who'd been lured to the pub on the promise of free beer
and who, as a result, all had their wobble boots firmly laced up.
Stepping up.
MAN: (LAUGHS) Good Lord!
You look like me after Sleaze Ball.
(LES GROANS) Come on, muscles, take a seat.
I'm Ruben. (GRUNTS)
You must be Les.
If you say so.
Like that, is it? Mmm.
Come on, let's take a look-see.
No missing bark. No hail damage.
Bacon and egg roll and a touch-up and you'll be fine.
Ooh, what sort of touch-up?
Ha ha! You wish, darling. Make-up.
Make-up?
You reckon I need it? I'm... supposed to look rough.
(SNIFFS)
THAT rough?
I don't think that's the face of Bowen Lager.
Yeah, you might be right.
Trust me. This is not my first after-party.
I'll have you looking a million bucks by the time I'm through.
Now, you just sit back, relax,
and I'll take it from here.
Hey, bro, the lady on the phone said all the free beer we could drink!
I understand that...
She was very specific. It sounded like a challenge, eh?
Er, course it did.
Let me talk to the producers. I'm sure we can sort something out.
Hey, you'd better, 'cause the boys are getting a bit moody.
ALL: Ooh!
(SIGHS) Just through here. This way.
Hey! (WOLF-WHISTLES)
Check out this pretty boy, eh?
HOBO: My muse.
What do you think of the outfit?
I love it. Really?
You don't think it's a bit on the bloody nose?
Not at all. You look like every shearer that I've ever met.
You've met many, have you? (LAUGHS)
Where would I have met a shearer?
Uh, Hobo, the extras are getting restless
and we haven't even rolled yet.
Are you sure we can't tap another keg?
The only thing I'm sure of, chica, is that it's not my problem.
Speak to the producer.
I would if she'd bother to rock up.
Don't worry. I've got this.
NARRATOR: Now, Les wasn't the type of bloke to pump up his own tyres,
but he needed a bunch of pissed-off extras
like Peter Garrett needed a year's supply of hair conditioner.
Calm down, fellas. Calm down. Uh...
G'day. How are youse? I'm Les.
Yeah, nice shorts, Les! (ALL LAUGH)
Fair enough. Fair enough. Uh...
Listen, I just heard the horrible news about the beers,
and I just wanted youse all to know,
I'm gonna shout youse a few kegs out of me own pocket.
You know, just as a way of saying thank you
for helping out and all that and being such good blokes.
(ALL CHEER)
No point being in a pub if you can't get on the piss, right?
(ALL LAUGH, WOLF-WHISTLE)
(KNOCK AT DOOR) WOMAN: Housekeeping.
Hello? Housekeeping.
LAUREN: Go away, you sadist!
Can you come back at a decent hour?!
I know you lot don't believe in daylight savings up here,
but what sort of a hotel sends cleaning at this ungodly hour?
You're not wrong.
Who cleans at... 10:30? Exactly.
What did you say?
Oh, fuck me.
I love it! Let's put one down.
Final checks!
You're killing it, Les!
Drinking beer and mugging off to cameras, there's not much to it.
Trust me, the camera either loves you or it doesn't. You got lucky.
Bit of help from you, mate. You're a bloody magician, you are.
(CHUCKLES)
Going for a take. Quiet on set.
(SIGHS) You good, Les?
OK, roll sound.
MAN: Speed. Set. (CLAPPERBOARD CLACKS)
And action.
(SIGHS)
G'day, mate. What'll it be?
Just a Bowen Lager, thanks.
What the fuck is Bowen Lager?
NARRATOR: The big Cockney concreter with the cavernous conk was Colin.
And what the fuck is it doing in my pub?
ALL: Yeah.
Uh, hi. I'm Rob, the assistant director.
You fellas probably didn't notice all the film gear.
We're actually shooting an ad today.
No, you're fucking not. MAN: Come on, Col, behave yourself.
I told you last week I was closing the pub down for an ad shoot.
We'll be back open first thing tomorrow.
Well, it looks open to me. Don't it, boys?
ALL: Yeah.
That'll be seven pints of Brown, please, Terry.
Make it sharpish. You know what I'm like when I get thirsty.
G'day, fellas. I'm Les.
And I'm thoroughly uncon-fucking-cerned.
So fuck off!
Uh, we'll be gone by tomorrow, eh? It's all yours.
I reckon you should leave right now, son.
If you know what's good for you. You red-headed twat.
Don't make me ask again, Terry.
Come on, mate. No-one wants any trouble here.
How about you just find another pub round the corner or something?
Surely there's another one to have a drink at. What do you reckon?
I reckon I'm not gonna be told where I can and cannot drink.
Especially by some over-made-up fucking poofter!
(MEN LAUGH)
His make-up... is perfect.
You fucking Neanderthal.
Is this your missus?
I'm sorry, sweetheart. Can you repeat that?
You heard.
Now, piss off, and take your merry band of soap-dodgers with you.
Grown-ups are working here.
I'd love to get stuck into you, nancy boy.
Sorry, darling, you're not my type.
Ooh!
That's it?
That's it? I've been hurt worse playing Monopoly.
(CHEERING)
Argh! Bastards! Get off!
Oi!
That was for the make-up bloke. I quite like him.
(UPBEAT MUSIC)
You mad bastard!
I've heard every gay sledge in the book,
but don't knock my make-up!
Whoa!
Huh!
(YELLS)
You were saying?
(SIGHS)
(ROLLS CAMERA)
(MEN GROAN WEAKLY)
Ah!
Sorry I'm late, people!
(SIGHS)
(GLASS SMASHES)
Well, on the upside...
..it can't get any worse.
Actually, it can.
I put two kegs on your tab for the extras.
(CHUCKLES)
Oh, well.
What does it matter now, eh? I'm out of a job anyway.
Yeah, right.
You reckon I'LL still get paid?
Guess that's my 15 minutes of fame done, then.
Oh, at least you got to go back to Queensland for a couple of days.
Yeah.
Yeah, not as fun as I remember.
DRIVER: Where to, boys?
Any one of these blokes would have been a better choice.
Yeah. Nah, I really fucked up.
Oh, we both did.
Nah, if I'd just kept my big mouth shut, none of this would've happened.
I'm... sorry, eh?
Oh, honey, what's done is done.
Yeah, well... if it's any consolation,
I mean, it would have been a shithouse ad anyway.
See the outfit they had me in? I looked like...
I looked like the seventh member of the Village People.
(LAUGHS) I mean, the whole thing was just...
..just so fake.
I mean, the only real thing about it was the bloody fight.
NARRATOR: Waking that morning, Les had felt better.
A couple of pegs were loose
and his right eye looked like a Ken Done painting,
and yet despite needing some serious panelbeating,
he felt something stranger still - he felt happy to be home.
Shit!
LAUREN: Sounds good, fellas? Yep?
Les, we're right in the middle... This won't take long.
..of something. Seriously, what are you doing here?
What I should have done from the bloody start.
Now, you listen here, you pretentious ball sack.
OK, and he's off.
You think you're fooling anybody with your Navajo bangles?
Uh, they're Cherokee. Mmm.
You wouldn't know real talent if it crawled up and bit you on the dick.
OK, you take deep breaths, sweetheart. I've got this.
Yeah, bloody oath you do. Mm-hm.
You see, she's a maverick.
She was willing to take a shot on a complete unknown like myself.
She's a risk-taker. She's what this country needs.
She's the Alan Bond of advertising.
You know, she should be promoted, not fired
by some wannabe fucking artiste!
Leslie, seriously! Arggh!
(CHUCKLES) Uh, now, I appreciate the concern, big man,
but I have been up all night putting this together.
(PROJECTOR WHIRRS)
(MUSIC PLAYS)
VOICEOVER: A big old thirst needs a big boy's beer.
Bowen Lager. A beer worth fighting for.
Ah!
MAN: Son, I've been in this game since television was invented.
That was un-fucking-belivable. I've never seen anything like it.
The most realistic fight scene I have ever seen.
That right? Yeah.
I've been asked to take over the account immediately.
Fair dinkum? Mm-hm. And there's more.
Go on. Tell him.
Les, mate, we want you to be the face of Bowen Lager long-term.
TV, radio, print, outdoor. The whole lot.
That mean I... still get my three grand?
Nah. Five up front and a 10k retainer.
Is that something you'd be willing to entertain?
Bloody oath.
Sawadee ka!
Sawadee ka?
Sawadee ka... Sawadee...
Oh, that's actually all the Thai that I know,
so... do you guys mind if I just speak Australian?
Good.
Now, shooting poor Arthit in the head there
is not gonna get your money back, is it?
Seriously, look, I know you lost some of your girls.
I also lost my sister Doreen.
Right, put the guns down, OK?
Yep, lower them.
Lower those guns. Good.
You know I got the big boy anyway.
Now, just take a seat, fellas.
Take a beer.
Look - freshies. Let's go.
And, uh, let's have a little chinwag about our situation, yeah?
Off you go.
(SIGHS)
Now, who here's heard of the saying "revenge is a dish best served cold"?
Yeah?
See, us lot, we had a great thing going on, didn't we?
Until someone fucked us.
So...
..say hello to the man who's been doing most of the fucking.
Have any of youse ever heard of...
..the boys from Binjiwunyawunya?
Welcome to Sydney, boys!
Name's Billy Dunn. Nice to meet you.
Bush magic, isn't it?
You've got me babysitting a trio of bloody voodoo witchdoctors!
Oi! Keep your voice down!
You and my sister make such a cute couple.
Bet you're getting a half-mongrel right now
being this close to her genetic double, right?
You reckon I should pull my head in? Yeah.
Although, it's in pretty good nick from here.
(LAUGHS)
We want the original marketing campaign.
It is... pretty special, isn't it?
(ALL LAUGH)