Joy to the world, the Lord has come, let Earth receive …
THE 2012 BOGUE & BOGUETTE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!!
(THE SCENE: The rear patio and backyard of BOGUE and BOGUETTE‘s McMansion in Glenmore Park. BOGUE is standing behind his brand new barbecue wearing his favourite apron featuring plastic breasts. BOGUETTE and her cousin SHEVONNE are gossiping with each other over Bacardi Breezers while MUMMY BOGUE and BOGUE’s brother RYAN are standing next to BOGUE at the barbecue. BOGUE and BOGUETTE’s four snivelling brats AIDEN, BRAIDEN, JAIDEN and KAIDEN and the Asian-Australian kids from next door MATTHEW and JESSICA are running around playing with the Nerf gun that KAIDEN got for Christmas.)
MUMMY BOGUE: (inhales half a Horizon cigarette in one go then clutches at her dressing gown) Cough cough splutter cough cough … so, son … Ryan’s been telling me that you got some work. So, son … splutter cough splutter … tell yer ma all about it.
BOGUE: (guzzles half a can of Jim Beam and cola) Yeah … you wouldn’t believe it … but I’m now a salesman down at the Holden dealership! Y’see, Jason who used to own this house when we were still livin’ next door — well, it turned out that he was a dirty-arsed queer boy and a couple of munfs ago he ran away to Manila with some skinny little Filipino poof ten years younger than him! As soon as I found out, well, I went down to the dealership in an instant, spoke to the dealer-principal, “Oh yeah mate, me and Jase were best bloody mates! We were next door neighbours for yonks! Yeah, I’ve been a massive Holden fan since I was still in nappies!” Which is, loik, farkin’ bullshit because Holdens are pieces of farkin’ crap. But hey, the money I had was starting to run out and I needed the work, and me missus here’s still got her job a few days a week at the nail salon — and now that I’ve got Jason’s old house and Jason’s old job, things are pretty bloody sweet! Only thing wrong with the job was that the dealer-principal forces me to wear long-sleeved shirts to cover up all me tatts. That’s unfair, I spent thousands of dollars on me sleeves and they won’t even let me show ’em off! But I’ve been meeting all me targets down at the dealership, if I keep that up, next year I’ll even be able to afford to send me four kids back to … (stares off into the distance and speaks in hushed, reverential tones) … the Holy Redeemer of Sacred Light Biblical Christian College!
RYAN: (clinks his bottle of Carlsberg against BOGUE’s can of Jim Beam) Good on ya, mate! Things always have a habit of working out in the end, don’t they? By the way, I see this is a new barbecue.
BOGUE: (flips over steak and sausages which are just as charred as if they were cooked on a cheap $100 two-burner from K Mart) Yeah, me bruvva, eight burners all the way, baby! Not like that crappy six-burner I bought four munfs ago. Look, it’s even got a roasting pan, it’s got a hood, it’s got racks and trays, even a thing where you can grill cheese on toast. I couldn’t live without it.
RYAN: Hmm … you could live without it. There’s a thing inside your kitchen which does exactly the same shit. It’s called a stove.
BOGUE: Hahaha … yeah, funny, c$%t. You always gotta be a smart-arse, don’tcha …
MUMMY BOGUE: Splatter hoick splatter … So, that dickhead old man of yours is now dead and buried?
RYAN: No, we got him cremated.
BOGUE: Yeah, I’m surprised that the whole crematorium didn’t go “KABOOM!” from all the alcohol in his system.
RYAN: Yeah, the funeral last week was really sad. Even all his drinking buddies at his boarding house in Summer Hill couldn’t have been bothered coming. What a great lot of friends he had. It was just me, my brother here and his missus and Aiden, Braiden, Jaiden and Kaiden.
MUMMY BOGUE: Yeah, people get the funerals they deserve, hoick hoick hack. If he weren’t such a boozehead pr!ck maybe he’d have more family and friends caring about him and coming to his funeral. Nobody ever held a gun to his head forcing him to become a pathetic old drunk. Bloody addicts … cough cough cough hack hack splutter cough.
BOGUE: Then we scattered his ashes at Bents Basin where he always used to like to take us swimming when we was young. Yeah … (sips on his Jim Beam) It was sad. He’s in a better place now though. Better than that dump of a boarding house anyhow.
BRAIDEN: Hey, Uncle Ryan, let me show you what Auntie Shevonne bought me for Christmas! (runs inside and retrieves a DVD) Look, it’s a Family Guy DVD!
RYAN: Cool bananas, Braiden, that show’s pretty funny.
BOGUE: (snatches DVD off BRAIDEN and brandishes it towards SHEVONNE) What? What the fark? Oi, Shevonne you stupid dumb schizo lezzo bitch, what the hell did you fink you were doin’?
SHEVONNE: I bought Braiden a Family Guy DVD. What’s wrong with that?
BOGUE: Waddayamean, “what’s wrong wiv that?”
SHEVONNE: I don’t see what the problem i…
BOGUE: (throws DVD at the Colorbond fence where it causes a loud, reverberating, tinny thud) Urghgurughrughrughkurrghnt! Family Guy’s full of gays and f@ggots and poofters and paedophiles and gays and dung-punchers and kiddy-fiddlers and gays and poofs … and gays … and queers … and … gays … and … and … urghgurughrkurrghnt!
SHEVONNE: What the hell? I’ve never watched it, I didn’t know what was on it, Braiden asked for Family Guy and his mum said it was OK.
BOGUE: Bullshit. Bull-farkin-shit. You don’t even work, you bludging piece of crap. All you ever bloody do is sit around all day watching DVDs and the telly. Bullshit you didn’t know what was on Family Guy.
BOGUETTE: For bloody hell’s sake, settle down, will ya? Braiden asked for it, I suggested it to Shevonne and I said it was OK, so don’t put the blame onto me cousin and best mate Shevonne because it ain’t bloody fair! Y’unnerstand?
BOGUE: Christ, so it’s your fault, is it? Bloody hell, here’s me trying to raise me kiddies with proper values an’ shit, and you gotta get Shevonne to buy a DVD full of gay stuff!
MUMMY BOGUE: Cough cough hoick splutter cough …. so, Ryan … cough gasp cough … speaking of kiddies, when are you gonna give me some more?
RYAN: Umm, Mum, can you repeat that question, please?
MUMMY BOGUE: Sorry, son … just wanted to ask you, have you got a girl yet? Hack hack splurt splurt. And when are you gonna give me more grandkids?
RYAN: Oh, for Christ’s sake, people just don’t get it, do they! Y’know, if you had asked me “do you have a girlfriend?” or “do you want to have kids?” Fine. You’re just inquiring. You’re giving me a choice, yes or no. But you asked me “do you have a girl YET?” and “WHEN are you going to have kids?” Those questions are based on the premise that everyone wants to have a relationship and a family and that people who don’t are somehow abnormal. I cop it at work, and I shouldn’t have to cop it from my own bloody mother. I’m sick of it!
BOGUE: Yeah, I knew it. I always knew it. You’re too farkin’ selfish to have kids.
RYAN: Excuse me? You listen here, you retarded piece of shit. After putting up with that control freak Isabella for nine years I’m quite happy being single. I get home from work and think to myself, “Thank Christ for peace and quiet!” I’ve taught myself how to cook, I enjoy my little masterpieces. I’m going to language classes, I’m learning Spanish. My life is my own and I alone am responsible for my life. I just spent a month backpacking around South Africa, a fascinating place, the trip of a lifetime. I had awesome times with awesome people. My free time is my free time. For the first time in my life I’m halfway happy and I don’t need my mother and my dickhead bloody brother telling me what’s good for me or that the choices I make which don’t hurt anyone else are somehow (does air quotes) “selfish”! You understand?
BOGUE: Yup. I was roit. Too farkin’ selfish to have kids. Definitely. Me and me missus had one for Mum, one for Dad, and two for the country. You won’t even have kids fer yer own country. No pride at all.
RYAN: No, you moron, you’re just jealous. You always were jealous of me, even at school. I’m free and you’re not. You’re up to your eyeballs in debt, have a wife constantly nagging you for the money you’ve earned so she can waste it on hot-stone massages with her girlfriends, Aiden and Jaiden constantly get into trouble at school and get suspended and give you grief. I don’t have to put up with that and you do. So you’re just jealous. And whose taxes paid for your baby bonus and family tax benefits? Why, single taxpayers like me, of course. I’m the one who comes around and helps your kids with their homework because you’re too dumb to even write your own name and address without mistakes. So don’t f#$king call me selfish, because I won’t f#$king stand for it!
BOGUETTE: Hey, leave me out of this! I don’t waste money wiv me girlfriends! So it’s all roit for youse blokes to get on the piss, waste money on barbecues and grog and doin’ up your cars and shit, but us girls aren’t allowed to have their fun? F#$k you, Ryan!
RYAN: Umm … err … I didn’t mean it like that …
BOGUETTE: Bullshit. Y’know, I always thought you and I got on. Always thought that you were different to all the other blokes. But no. Go on. Get outta me house.
RYAN: I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to piss you off …
BOGUETTE: Well, you did. So go on, get out! Now!
MUMMY BOGUE: (lights up yet another Horizon) Cough ptooey cough splutter. She’s right. If you’re gonna get all touchy and be an arrogant sexist pr!ck like that, get out. You like being alone? Cough cough …. yeah. You can spend the rest of Christmas Day alone. No consideration for your family at all … cough hack splutter.
RYAN: Fine. What a load of bullshit … (walks over to where the kids are playing hugs BRAIDEN) See you later, little fella, I gotta go … umm … visit someone else.
BRAIDEN: But Uncle Ryan, you haven’t even watched Family Guy with me yet or played the Xbox games you gave me!
RYAN: Umm … maybe some other time. But I’ve got a whole heap of friends to visit. See you, Braiden. Love you, little mate. Aiden! Jaiden! Kaiden! Bye! (hugs the kids in turn then departs in his black 1998 Audi)
SHEVONNE: (to BOGUE) So who do you think he’s going to visit?
BOGUE: Nobody. He’s just going to go home and probably spend the rest of the arvo all alone cooped up in his little shoebox flat flogging his log. (falls silent for a minute or so and looks at his four children playing with MATTHEW and JESSICA) Man, I never thought I’d see the day when I’d see Aiden, Braiden, Jaiden and Kaiden playin’ wiv a bunch of slopes in me own backyard.
MRS WONG: (head poking above the Colorbond fence from the backyard next door, speaks in perfect middle-class Australian accent) What did you just say?
BOGUE: Urrghguerghurgurhgkurrghnt! Who do you fink you’re spying on, you nosy bitch?
MRS WONG: I wasn’t spying on anybody, I was just about to call the kids back because our Christmas lunch is ready.
BOGUE: Bullshit, you were spyin’ on us all the time.
MRS WONG: Are you calling me a liar, you racist turd?
BOGUE: Yes, I am calling you a liar, you sneaky little ching-chong tightarse bitch who finks she’s better than everyone else in the street because … “Ooh, ooh, look at me, my kids go to a private tutor! Ooh, ooh, my husband’s a financial planner which means we’re farkin’ loaded and you’re not!”
MRS WONG: (leaps over the fence, somersaults and lands in front of BOGUE) I dare you to repeat that.
BOGUE: I said, you’re a liar, you sneaky little ching-cho–
(MRS WONG does a roundhouse kick right in BOGUE’s testicles)
BOGUE: (doubles up in pain and rolls around on the ground) Aaaargh! Aaaargh! Me nuts! Me nuts! I’m sterile fer life now, oh you sneaky little farkin’ Chinese bitch, aaaargh! Boohoo, oh booboohoobooboohooo …
MRS WONG: Tough! You’re forgetting that us “sneaky little ching-chongs” are, you know, good at gymnastics and martial arts. C’mon, Matthew, Jessica! Time for Christmas lunch! Come in before the prawns get warm. And Uncle Tim’s bringing stuff for the barbie too and then we’ve got to get ready to go for a swim down at Bents Basin!
(MATTHEW and JESSICA say good bye to AIDEN, BRAIDEN, JAIDEN and KAIDEN and leave with MRS WONG)
BOGUE: Aaargh, me nuts … oh boohoo … somebody get me some Panadol, please …. oh booboohoo …. I’m in agony here, oh boohoohoo …
BOGUETTE: Hmm, you reckon we should get him some Panadol or sumfint?
SHEVONNE: Ummm …. (strokes her chin) … Nup. Teehee!
MUMMY BOGUE: Oh, quit yer cryin’, son. Me and yer old man didn’t raise a bloody girl … cough cough hoick.
THE END … and have a wonderful Christmas and a fantastic New Year from The Bogue & Boguette Show!