Tag Archives: caravan park

Episode 87 – Punishers And Straighteners (Part 2)

Allons enfants de la Patrie, le jour de gloire est arrivĂ© avec …


(THE SCENE: Easter Saturday afternoon at Ocean Glades Holiday Village – You’ll Never Want To Leave! PETE, WAL and KEV are sitting at a plastic outdoor table with cans of XXXX Gold on them outside one of the caravans. A New South Wales Police patrol car is parked nearby and standing near the table are a MALE COPPER and FEMALE COPPER interviewing ELLEN and AIDEN.)

ELLEN: (points at AIDEN) Here he is! Here is Aiden, the young hewligan who was trying to kill me!

AIDEN: I wasn’t trying to kill her, officer. It was self-defence. Honest!

PETE: I can vouch for that, sir. I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles that this bird ‘ere was runnin’ around chasing this fine young gentleman ‘ere and smackin’ him!

WAL: Yup, I saw it wiv me own eyes too, officer!

ELLEN: Liars! You’re oonly lying abart me because that ungrateful little scallywag Aiden’s been running around filling your heads with lies abart me and turning everyone against me, and because you are nothing but idle loofers who hate decent upstanding Chris-tee-yarns like me!

MALE OFFICER: All right, all right, let’s just get to the bottom of this, shall we? (gets out his notebook) OK, Ellen, now please give us your version of events.

ELLEN: I had oonly just arrived here with my husband on our Easter holidays, and I was searching for the toilets when I happened upon this young rascal here – he used to be my fawster child in our family’s arse-holed in Sydney – and for noo good reason he started firing at me with his slingshot! Here, look at all these bruises! (points to the bright red welts all over her body that look exactly like the King Of The Mountains jersey in the Tour de France)

FEMALE OFFICER: Hmm, and how do you explain yourself, young man?

AIDEN: (looks downcast and evasive and shrugs his shoulders) It was self-defence. Honest!

FEMALE OFFICER: And where’s your slingshot?

AIDEN: I don’t have one.

ELLEN: Nonsense! Look at his back pocket! Search him! I see it right here!

FEMALE OFFICER: All right, fess up, Aiden. Where’s the slingshot? Turn around!

(AIDEN turns around and shows the slingshot protruding from his rear pocket of his shorts)

FEMALE OFFICER: (retrieves the slingshot) Hmmm. An offensive weapon. What are you doing carrying one of these around?

AIDEN: Target practice. I just like to do target practice in Jack’s Swamp next door.

MALE OFFICER: Target practice, huh? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about all the dead birds that the Ocean Glades Landcare group have been finding in the wetlands, would you?

AIDEN: Nup. I don’t know nuffint about that. I just shoot at Coke cans and plastic bags and stuff.

MALE OFFICER: That doesn’t change the fact that you have an illegal homemade offensive weapon, and it doesn’t explain all these bruises you’ve inflicted on this lady here. You want to explain yourself, young man?

(BOGUE storms out of his nearby mobile home in his thongs and boxer shorts and Guns n’ Roses t-shirt, slams the screen door shut and marches down towards the police car)

BOGUE: (points his finger at the police officers) Oi! What’s going on wiv me son ‘ere?

FEMALE OFFICER: Sir, it appears that your son Aiden has gotten himself into a bit of trouble. He was firing this slingshot at this lady here.

BOGUE: Oh — you, Ellen! What are you doing around here, bitchface?


BOGUE: Sorry. I’ll rephrase that, officer. So, Ellen! What are you doing around here, you f#$king bitchface?

MALE OFFICER: Keep that up and we’ll have you up on disorderly conduct! Anyway, your son is under questioning here for possession of an offensive weapon and for assault occasioning actual bodily harm.

BOGUE: What? What the fark? You should be out there catching the rool criminals! Not little boys like me Aiden here carrying a bloody slingshot.

MALE OFFICER: Sir, these are serious offences and your son must be held to account for them!

BOGUE: What, you don’t go after the rool criminals, like the PE teachers at Ocean Glades High School, teaching Aiden and all the other boys in his Year 9 PE class that  it’s OK to become a massive poo-jabber!

MALE OFFICER: Sir, I told you the last time you barged into the cop shop over that, it’s part of the personal development curriculum. No law has been broken!

BOGUE: Well, there should be a law against that. Fancy that, school teachers being paid with MY taxes telling me kids that it’s OK to go up other boy’s bums!

FEMALE OFFICER: In any case, sir, that doesn’t justify why the complainant here has bruises and welts all over her body.

AIDEN: (shrugs his shoulders) I told you, officer. It was self-defence.

FEMALE OFFICER: It was self-defence, was it? So tell us, what were you defending yourself against, exactly?

PETE: Didn’t we tell youse, that she was chasin’ him and smackin’ him? Aiden ‘ere’s the finest young bloke you’re ever likely to meet, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, chief.

ELLEN: You’re lying and you knoo it!

(MIKE emerges from his caravan and sees the police with ELLEN and the others, and strolls over)

MIKE: Officers, mind if I ask what’s going on here? I was wondering where my wife was.

MALE OFFICER: Sir, do you know this boy? (points at AIDEN)

MIKE: Yes, that’s Aiden, he used to be our foster kid a couple of years ago, and that’s his father.

FEMALE OFFICER: Well, he just happens to live in this caravan park now where you’ve just arrived on your Easter holidays, and it looks like he’s gotten himself into a spot of bother. See all those bruises on your wife’s body? That’s from Aiden firing marbles at her with this. (lifts up the meanest looking slingshot on the North Coast)

MIKE: (tries to suppress a giggle and a wry smile, not very successfully) Chortl– umm, I mean — err — umm — oh dear. Oh deary deary me. We can’t have that — chortl– umm, we can’t have that now, can we? Snort snort– oh no. We can’t have that now at all.

MALE OFFICER: And this young man has yet to explain his actions. So, Aiden, you want to tell us why you fired those marbles at Ellen?

AIDEN: Because … umm … because …

MALE OFFICER: And because what?

AIDEN: (starts bawling crocodile tears) Because … because, officer … boohoo … she used to do things to me when she was me foster mum … real bad things, officer … boohoo …

MALE OFFICER: (notebook at the ready) Real bad things, eh? Like what?

AIDEN: Like … things she shouldn’t do … oh boo boohoo …

MALE OFFICER: C’mon mate, give us more details.

AIDEN: Like … boohoo …. she used to … oh booboobooboohoo … she used to strip me naked and bend me over her knees while smacking me bottom and singing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ …

PETE: See, officers? We told you that she was smackin’ him!

MALE OFFICER: Shut yer trap, you old mong, and let Aiden say what he’s gotta say!

FEMALE OFFICER: (puts one arm around AIDEN’s shoulders and pats his head with her other hand) Awwww Aiden, you poor thing!

MALE OFFICER: (scribbling away) And did she do anything else to you?

AIDEN: Boohoo … boohoohoohoo … Yeah … She used to get a rolling pin … and do real bad stuff with it. Like, put it in places where she shouldn’t of …

FEMALE OFFICER: Awwww, Aiden, that’s just terrible, you poor little baby …

ELLEN: You lying little ne’er-do-well, Aiden! How dare you insinuate that I would ever dew such a thing! I doon’t even oon a row-ling pin! Officers, you can search my entire arse-holed from top to bottom, you woon’t find a row-ling pin anywhere!

AIDEN: And … and … boohoohoo … now I’ve got post-traumatic stress disorder an’ shit, officer … and … and … boohoo … and when I saw Ellen come round the corner, I got real bad flashbacks and … and … I couldn’t control meself, officer … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt her! Boohoo, oh booboobooboohoo ….

BOGUE: (lunges towards ELLEN) Urrghgurhgurhgurhgurghrhgrhgrkurrrrghnt! You paedophile bitch!

MALE COPPER: (grabs BOGUE and pins his arms behind his back) Listen, mate! You shut up and just let us deal with it, you hear me? Let us get to the bottom of this!

(AIDEN stops crying for a split second and pokes his tongue out at ELLEN while all the other adults aren’t looking, and then resumes his crying)

ELLEN: Look! Look! Aiden is lying! He just pooked his tongue out at me. That proves that he’s lying!

AIDEN: Boohoo … oh boobooboohoo … I didn’t poke my tongue out at her. She’s just makin’ it up to make me look bad … oh boohoohoo …

MALE COPPER: So, Ellen, how do you respond to Aiden’s allegations?

ELLEN: Ooh, noo! It’s absolutely impossible for me to ever dew such heinous things!

MALE COPPER: And why is that?

ELLEN: Because I’m a Chris-tee-yarn!

PETE: I woulda thought that that would make you even more likely to tamper with little kiddies, you disgustin’ old perv!

MALE COPPER: Didn’t I tell all of youse to just shut up and let us deal with it! So, Ellen, would you like to accompany us to the police station to make a statement?

ELLEN: Ooh, goodness, noo! I’ve done nothing wrong.

MALE COPPER: Love, these are very serious allegations. It would be in your best interests to comply with us and come to the police station for questioning.

ELLEN: Mike! Mike! You have to help me here! Tell these officers that I have no case to aaah-nswer.

MIKE: Help you? Why would I want to help you? You’re a child abuser. I can’t believe it. My wife, touching up little kiddies we took in as foster children. That’s it. I’m separating from you.

ELLEN: Noo … noo … noo. Ooh, goodness, noo. But Aiden’s lying! Honest!

MIKE: It’s too late, Ellen. In twelve months’ time I’m filing for divorce.

ELLEN: You’re divorcing me? But we’re not allowed to get divorced.

MIKE: And why’s that?

ELLEN: Because we’re Chris-tee-yarns!

MIKE: No, Ellen. We’re not Christians. You’re a Christian.

ELLEN: What … what … you mean to say that … that …

MIKE: That’s right. You’re a Christian.

ELLEN: But … all those sermons we went to at Hillsong on Sunday mornings. All the Bible study groups we attended. All the church camps we organised together. But … but … you’ve got to be a Chris-tee-yarn.

MIKE: No, Ellen. It was all bullshit I only went along with to shut your f#$king mouth and keep you happy. I’m over it.

ELLEN: But … but …. (hyperventilates) Noo … noo … noo … it’s impossible … this is a nightmare … it’s got to be … noo … noo … tell me this is just a hallucination … please … noo … noo …

MALE COPPER: (locks his arm into ELLEN’s elbow and gestures towards the patrol car) Now, lady, just come this way, we’ll take you in for questioning and give you the opportunity to make a statement and–

ELLEN: (pushes MALE COPPER away violently) Get your hands awf me, you filthy brute! I’m not boogan criminal scum like these filthy old alcoholics here! Look at them! Sitting there drinking without even wearing shirts. How obscene! You should be arresting them for indecent behaviour instead!

PETE: Awww, come on, don’t deny that you were pervin’ on us earlier on, you hoity-toity bitch!

WAL: Yeah, your eyes were poppin’ out of yer head like they were on springs, I reckon! You wanted a piece of this real bad. (flexes his bicep and points to it)

MALE COPPER: For the last bloody time, shut yer traps, you old farts! (drags ELLEN to the patrol car) Ellen, I now advise you that you are under arrest and anything you–

ELLEN: (kicking and screaming along the gravel driveway) Noo! Noo! You will let goo of me this instant! I have done nothing wrong! I AM A CHRIS-TEE-YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARN!!!



Episode 84 – Into Something Rich And Strange

Why did the chicken cross the road? Because he was in a hurry to read the latest episode of …


(THE SCENE: A road on the edge of a small town somewhere on the coast between Newcastle and Tweed Heads on a hot, sticky, windless Saturday afternoon in the height of summer. On the side of the road is a large driveway leading into a caravan park and a tall 1960s hand-painted sign saying “Ocean Glades Holiday Village – You’ll Never Want To Leave!” On the opposite side of the road is the shire rubbish tip. Next door to the holiday village is the town’s sewerage treatment works; on the other side, an expansive and smelly mangrove swamp. Behind the caravan park is a “beach” – fully submerged at high tide, a mudflat extending half a kilometre out into a tidal lagoon at low tide – and on the other side of the lagoon several kilometres away is a sand mine.

BOGUE and two of his children AIDEN and BRAIDEN turn into the driveway in BOGUE’s overloaded 1995 VS Holden Commodore wagon. Following just behind them is BOGUETTE and the other two children JAIDEN and KAIDEN in her Suzuki Swift with a pink Playboy bunny sticker on the rear windscreen and a pair of hot pink fluffy dice dangling from the rear view mirror. The two vehicles stop outside the caravan park office and the occupants all spill out.)

BOGUE: All roit, boys, this is our new home for the time being. It’ll do until we save up for sumfint better.

BOGUETTE: (jaw hits the ground) What … what … I can’t believe it.

BOGUE: Why, what’s wrong, honeybunch?

BOGUETTE: That … that … we’re livin’ in some place that’s so povo …

BOGUE: (puts his arm around BOGUETTE’s shoulder) It’s all roit, honeybunch, we’ve booked a double-wide mobile home with an annexe! There’ll be enough room to start off with until we get a house of our own and some decent furniture. And anyfint’s gotta be better than livin’ with that povo nutjob cousin of yours who can’t be bothered cleanin’ her own house and livin’ on two-minute noodles and sausages. Anyway, I gotta go sign some paperwork, back soon.

(BOGUE walks into the reception office with a Formica counter overloaded with piles of papers. The owner of the caravan park, DON, a greasy middle-aged man with a combover and a Hawaiian shirt that looks like it was copied from the carpet of a suburban RSL, is watching the cricket on an ancient PYE portable television. He doesn’t acknowledge BOGUE, who stands there impatiently for about thirty seconds.)

BOGUE: Oi mate, me and me missus and kids want some service ‘ere!

DON: Oh, bugger off, can’t you see that I’m watchin’ the cricket.

BOGUE: Foine. (stands around for another thirty seconds, randomly drumming his fingers on the counter, then rings the counter bell repeatedly)

DON: Oi, didn’t I tell you to bloody well shut up, I’m tryin’ to watch the cricket ‘ere!

BOGUE: Well me missus is standin’ outside in the heat, as well as me four boys, and we need to check in!

DON: Fine. You lot must be the New People from Sydney, comin’ up to work on the highway construction.

BOGUE: Yep, that’ll be us.

DON: (gets out of his chair languidly and fetches a key from the drawer) All right, here’s yer key to your mobile home, Number 32, Row D, second driveway on your left. Here’s the key to the swimmin’ pool, but it’s been out of order for a while now, and here’s the after-hours key to the ablutions block. And here’s your tenancy agreement to sign, just on the dotted line there … that’s the way. Your place should be ready soon, my wife Jill is cleanin’ it as we speak. Any questions?

BOGUE: Nup. No dramas.

DON: Good. Now let me get back to me cricket! (sits back down and stares back at the TV)

(BOGUE and his family drive up to their new home, a clean but unassuming double-wide mobile home with a small porch, and a canvas annex attached to the side to provide a bit of extra room, and a small driveway next to it. The family then proceed to unload their vehicles.)

BOGUETTE: (lets out a squeal) Eeeeeep! Ewwwwww! I can’t believe that we’ve sunk so low! And what’s that smell–

BOGUE: Oh, quit yer whinin’ already, you dumb bitch. It’s nowhere near as smelly as Shevonne’s filthy pigsty houso place. And look, it’s bigger than all the other caravans around here. It’ll do for a little while.

BRAIDEN: Dad, I’m bored already. Can’t we please go back to Sydney? It’s so boring here.

AIDEN: Yeah, I Googled the other day, there isn’t even a Timezone around here.

JAIDEN: Yeah, Dad, let’s go back home.

KAIDEN: I want Miss Gresham … I wanna go back to Miss Gresham, my teacher … I want my Miss Gresham …

BOGUE: You kids quit yer whinin’ too! Everybody, just quit yer f@#kin’ whinin’! Yer old man don’t wanna hear it. Unnerstand?

(As the family starts to unpack, JILL, a spidery, squinty woman with long, crooked fingers and raven-black hair and tobacco-stained teeth, emerges from the mobile home she has just finished cleaning)

JILL: Ahh yes, the New People. Yee-e-e-e-s. The New People. Of course. From Sydney.

BOGUE: Yeah, that’s us.

JILL: Well, welcome. And don’t make a mess of this place like all the other New People do, and we’ll get along just fine. You hear me?

BOGUETTE: Well … umm .. thanks for the welcome … I think?

JILL: Yes. Not like the other New People. And don’t make a mess of the ablutions block either! Yes. Indeed. And no doing your laundry after eight o’clock at night. We’ve had to evict other New People for doing that. Yes. (trundles her vaccuum cleaner and cleaning trolley down the row to the next vacant caravan that needs cleaning)

BOGUETTE: Gee, what a warm welcome! Honey, let’s just go back to Syd–

BOGUE: Urgghrughrurhgkurrghnt! Christ, don’t get me started again! You’re the one who wanted to come along, you didn’t have to! So just stop yer bloody whinin’!

(As the family unpacks, a grossly obese man in his mid-sixties, NED, with a scrubby beard, red skin, crooked sunglasses, an onion-bulb nose and a huge blue polo shirt that’s two sizes too small, drives past on his electric mobility scooter with a plastic Australian flag sticky-taped to the shopping basket)

NED: (in a voice which reminds one of dredges dropping a load of gravel onto a barge) Ahh, so you must be the New People that Don and Jill were tellin’ us were gonna arrive today. Welcome!

BOGUETTE: Yup, that’s us … the … umm … New People. Teehee!

NED: Yeah, we get a lot of New People here. Most stay, some don’t.

BOGUE: Yeah, I just got a job on the roadworks around here, I start on Mundy. We’re just stayin’ here until we can save up for a bond on a house of our own to rent.

NED: Yeah, that’s what all the New People say. That sign out the front that says you’ll never want to leave? It’s true! I been here near on thirteen years now. Anyway, old mate, you gotta join me for a beer or two at my caravan some time. I got some research I want to share with you.

BOGUE: Research? What kinda research? You a scientist or sumfint?

NED: Not quite. But I’ve been doing research, I’ve got proof – honest-to-God, one hundred percent accurate proof – that climate change is a load of bullshit and that the CIA and international Jewry are pushing the climate change myth in order to usher in a New World Order with a One World Government that will turn us all into slaves!

BOGUE: Umm … yeah … maybe I’ll come for a beer … I think …

(Across the row is a caravan with a shadecloth marquee, under which is a set of plastic outdoor table and chairs, at which three shirtless men in their early sixties WAL, KEV and PETE are drinking an endless supply of cans of XXXX Gold)

WAL: Oi Ned, shut yer trap, you old mong!

KEV: Hey, New Bloke, don’t ever go have a beer with him, he’ll never let you leave and you’ll die from being bored shitless from the crap runnin’ out of his mouth! Come fishin’ with us instead.

PETE: Bloody oath!

NED: Fellas, youse shut up! You haven’t done the research what I’ve done!

WAL: What research? Reading all them newsletters an’ shit? Go and find the cure for Kev not being able to get it up with his missus, then you can say that you’ve done research!

KEV: Mate, do you always have to bring that up, pardon the pun?

NED: Yeah, youse blokes can laugh at me all you want, but I’ve got the truth! Believe me, I’ve got the truth! (pulls the throttle on his scooter and goes back to his caravan)

PETE: Oi, New Bloke, come over here and introduce yourselves.

(BOGUE and his family walk across the row)

BOGUE: Yeah, I’m Greg, and this is me missus Kelly, and me four boys Aiden, Braiden, Jaiden and Kaiden. I’ve come up here to work on the Pacific Highway roadworks.

BOGUETTE: Hi! (waves and smiles awkwardly)

KEV: Oi, good to meet ya. (shakes BOGUE’s hand)

WAL: Yeah, same.

PETE: Yeah, don’t worry about Don and Jill, they’re a couple of tightarse tossbags, nobody likes ’em. And Ned, he’s got his funny ideas, but he’s harmless. Anyway, once you get settled in, we’ll chuck on a barbie for ya. I get the feeling that you guys are gonna like it here! Just wait until you meet some of the other characters we got around here.