[We have several lovely options for our audience today.

A. Hey, everyone knows Kwan, right? Hong Kong's pet tiger? Australia happens to be pet sitting this afternoon, and so he's out in the front yard, playing with Kwan ( Read more... )

[So Australia just wanted to cook up some snaggers for breakfast when he suddenly found himself back in the 19th Century. 1879, to be exact. He doesn't look a day older than 15 and is wandering the streets of Mayfield barefoot. You might find him

A. Creeping around your backyard, trying to chat with any animals you might have there. And maybe lure ( Read more... )

Right, I'm... Back, or something like that. I mean, not that I left, but fucking hell...

First things first, what the flying fuck is going on? I'm hearing some shit about hazmats, Russians and gas and I haven't got any fucking clue about what's going on so fill me in.

… Anyone died yet?

[Australia and his drone son (Butters) are both standing in their front yard a short distance away from each other. Australia has a football in his hands and is glaring at it.]

Dad, you're holding it wrong.

Shut up, no fake-brainwashed-son of mine is going to not know how to kick a fucking footy properly. [Smoothly handballs it over to Butters- ( Read more... )

So, got a bloody weird call this morning... Some bloke saying I've been bludging? He reckons I've been working at the bank here for years. Dunno why the hell they put me there, is this one of the things I have to play along with, like the trouble and strife?

... Guess it could be worse, but why the bloody bank?

[Australia goes silent for a little ( Read more... )

[It's another sunny day in Mayfield, as Australia finds himself in the newly named "Kelly" household, 1750 Partridge Drive. He is understandably confused.]

G'day, operator? Can I have the number for the Aussie embassy? Or, uh, hell, what the fuck was septic's phone number...

[Then Australia covers the mouth piece of the phone to talk to someone else ( Read more... )