Don’t look at me, it’s way too soon to see, what’s gonna be, don’t look at this episode of …
THE BOGUE & BOGUETTE SHOW!!!
(THE SCENE: SHEVONNE‘s Housing Commission estate in Doonside early one Saturday morning. Thanks to state government budget cuts even more street lights are smashed, even more broken glass litters the concrete cul-de-sac leading to SHEVONNE’s townhouse, and even more graffiti has been left on the 1970s brown timber fences.
Into this dismal scene drives BOGUE in a beat-up 1995 Holden VS Commodore station wagon, its rear packed full of candy-stripe bags and cardboard boxes. It grinds to a halt outside SHEVONNE’s grotty two-storey townhouse, and BOGUE and his four downcast sons AIDEN, BRAIDEN, JAIDEN and KAIDEN trudge out of the car and up to the front gate.)
BRAIDEN: But Dad, I don’t want to stay here. I want to come with you! Shevonne cooks like crap and all we ever have for tea is two-minute noodles.
JAIDEN: Yeah, and she never cleans and the place stinks real bad and stuff, Daddy.
AIDEN: And it’s boring as batshit too, Dad. There’s nuffint to do here.
BOGUE: Well, that’ll teach you little smart-arse c#$ts for gettin’ me kicked out of Bafurst, won’t it? (walks up to the screen door with the torn flyscreens and knocks louder than a rock concert)
SHEVONNE: (opens the door slightly ajar and peers out behind the door) Who is it? Oh … you …
BOGUE: Yes. Me. And guess what, you fat dyke bitch – you got another four mouths to feed now. Here you go, boys. Your brand new home!
SHEVONNE: What? What’s going on?
BOGUE: Yup. I’m pissin’ off outta Sydney, headin’ up the coast. Me missus can take care of these snotty-nosed brats now.
SHEVONNE: Well … umm … some notice would have been great …. ummm … (calls upstairs) Cuz! Cuz! You better come down here quick …
BOGUETTE: (comes running downstairs, looking much plainer and dumpier than she did when she left BOGUE on election night) Yeah, what is it … (looks up through door) Oh, you. Wow. You’ve come back to me.
BOGUE: Nuh-uh, you dumb bitch. Guess again. I’ve just come around to drop these brats off!
BOGUETTE: What … uhh …
SHEVONNE: But we don’t have the space.
BOGUE: Tough, you lezzo nutjob, I’m droppin’ them off here whether you like ’em or not.
BOGUETTE: But … but … why?
BOGUE: ‘Cos these little c@#ts got me kicked out of the Bafurst 1000 with their big f#$kin’ mouths, that’s why!
BOGUETTE: Honey … please … don’t be so silly. Let’s just all go back home.
BOGUETTE: Please … sweetie … let me go back home … please …
BOGUE: Listen, bitch. There’s no home to go back to!
BOGUE: Yup. I sold the house, all the furniture, sold the Territory, bought this beat-up old shitbox you see behind me. Had to get all the money to pay back the Attorney-General and the lawyers and the Tax Office and Sennalink. I chucked in the job at the Holden dealership, the pay’s shit if you don’t meet yer targets and Holden’s going bust anyway.
BOGUETTE: So, where are you living now? Out of that car?
BOGUE: Nup. Me, Matty and Joel have found work up the North Coast. They’re upgrading the Pacific Highway, we found a construction mob that hasn’t blacklisted us and they’ve agreed to give us a go.
BOGUETTE: So … you’re leavin’ Sinny?
BOGUE: Yup. I’m leaving Sinny. Outta this shithole. Too many bloody wogs and poofs and curries and junkie deadshits.
BOGUETTE: Wow … well, we can’t have the kids here, there’s only one spare bedroom, they won’t all fit.
BOGUE: Yeah, they will. Boys, go and get yer air mattresses and blankets out the car.
(AIDEN, BRAIDEN, JAIDEN and KAIDEN hesitate)
BOGUE: (raises his hand) NOW!
BRAIDEN: But Dad, the food is so shit here and there’s no Xbox and–
BOGUE: I said, NOW!
(The boys finally oblige)
BOGUETTE: Listen, honey … please … take me with you … we’ll work things out …
BOGUE: Wow, I coulda sworn that you were gonna leave me for good after I had that argument with your single-mother sl*t of a sister the night of the election. What made you change your tune, you cow?
BOGUETTE: But … life here … it’s just so terrible … there’s never any money and I haven’t got me hair done proper in ages and–
BOGUE: Oh well, you made your bed, now lie in it.
BOGUETTE: And (whispers) Shevonne can’t cook for shit and I love her to death but she has her mental health episodes where she wants to kill herself and I’m sick of dealing with that kinda shit and–
BOGUE: It’s all about you, isn’t it. What’s in it for me if I take you back, huh? And don’t promise me anal. You done that before plenty of times and it never happened.
BOGUETTE: I’ll cook for you every night! And clean too. I bet you didn’t keep the house as clean as I woulda done.
BOGUE: Nah, we kept it pretty clean. I worked them boys like slaves. It’s good to teach them little smart-arse brats a bit of a work ethic while I sit back and enjoy a Jim Beam after a hard day’s work down standin’ in the sun all day down the dealership.
BOGUETTE: Please … honey … take me back … I’ll come wiv ya up the coast, you won’t have to worry about a fing, I’ll find the kids a proper good school to go to and stuff.
BOGUE: (opens the screen door and points inside) All right boys, there’s your new home. That’ll teach you to open your big fat mouths talkin’ shit about me when others can hear. (the kids won’t go inside) MOVE!
BOGUETTE: Please … you don’t have to do this … you heard the kids, they don’t want to stay here, neither do me and Shevonne …
BOGUE: Christ I don’t get it, why are you so desperate to have me back? Huh?
BOGUETTE: Because … because I …
BOGUE: Because what?
BOGUETTE: Because I just want to go SHOPPING!!! (starts sobbing while beating her fists against BOGUE’s chest) I just want to go shopping, and you’re not providin’ me with my right to go SHOPPING!!!!
BOGUE: Fer fark’s sake, you selfish bitch. Get a proper decent job and provide yer own bloody right to go shopping!
BOGUETTE: But the salon won’t give me more shifts, so I can’t get the money to go SHOPPING!!!! I just want to buy handbags and make-up and clothes an’ stuff, but because of you it’s been ages since I’ve gone SHOPPING!!!! Boohoo …. please … just take me back … so I can go SHOPPING!!! Oh boobooboohoo …
BOGUE: So that’s it, huh? You don’t want me back ’cause you love me. You just want an ATM machine!
BOGUETTE: No, honestly, I do love you an’ stuff, honest … but I love SHOPPING too!
BOGUE: Fark, I’ve had enough of this. Anyway, time for me to go, try and beat the traffic on Pennant Hills Road and the F3. (turns around and walks back to his Commodore wagon)
BOGUETTE: Yeah, you fink you’re a bloke, don’tcha?
BOGUE: (turns around to BOGUETTE) Yeah … well … of course …
BOGUETTE: Yeah, you reckon you’re a bloke, but you won’t even provide for yer missus!
BOGUE: What? That’s just ridiculous …
BOGUETTE: Yeah, you heard me! Rool men provide for their missus! Give them a proper house to live in and money for things to buy and stuff! But no … you’re just a dog! A coward! Look at you, turnin’ away like that, runnin’ away from his responsibilities an’ shit. You reckon you’re a bloke? Yeah right!
BOGUE: Well … umm …
BOGUETTE: Yeah, you heard me! A coward! A total chicken! Rool men buy shit for their women and make sure they got a proper standard of livin’ an’ shit. But no. You’re just a selfish little girl runnin’ away to the North Coast without me!
BOGUE: Umm … err …
BOGUETTE: Yeah. You reckon you’re a bloke? Go on. Take me and the kids back. Prove it!
BOGUE: All roit, all roit. You can come up the coast with me. Go on, get all your fings and follow me and the kids in that shitbox Suzuki Swift of yours.
THE END … AND THE BEGINNING.
(A Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year to all my readers. I’ll see you all in 2014 with a whole new set of adventures as I turn my attention to a whole new geo-demographic that’s hitherto received little attention in the canon of fine Australian literature. Yours, Regional Reverie.)