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Ernie:

Well, you can see what’s going to happen here; even Blind Freddy would be hard pressed not to see it. You’ve got a pair of true blue Aussie Legends here, Captain James Cook and The Enforcer trundling off down the beach in Old Faithful to confront a mob of imperialist invaders, and there’s nothing The Enforcer enjoys more than putting on a good show…this is going to get messy…very messy! But I’ll finish my story anyway, tell you what happens.

Maybe the cracks were starting to show in Captain Cook’s armour. “You know those shooting galleries at the fair?” he asked The Enforcer.

“Yea.”

“Well, do you recon you could shoot three ducks in five seconds?” he continued.

“Is the Medicine Man Black?” came the quick reply.

“And what if the ducks were out in the ocean and Old Faithful is your gun?”

“Are you asking can I hit three powder rooms in five seconds, Captain?”

“Well, yea, I guess that’s what I’m asking.”

“Well, guess I got no choice have I? ‘Cos if I don’t, them ducks is gonna be shootin’ back.”

“Well I’m not saying that you will have to, but just in case…” The Captain felt relieved that he had prepared his Gunner for the worst case scenario.

But this time as Old Faithful rattled down the ramp onto the beach, Captain Cook was not alone, for standing by his side, equally tall and proud though far outshining the Captain in the fashion stakes, was that same extraordinary beauty who had so captured his heart at the Garden Party, whom we shall now call Trish, for want of knowledge better. And she was dressed in an outfit that would make Wonder Woman look like Cinderella in rags, a costume befitting a Warrior Queen.

And Captain Cook could see that his naval experience had served him well. His rescuer had positioned three of his seven warships broadside to the shore within striking range of the surf clubhouse. But there was worser things happening. The landing party had arrived on the beach and launched straight into the business of their mission. The Union Jack was fluttering in the breeze atop a pole planted in the Cronulla Beach sand, and the fleet Captain stood flanked by three longboat loads of soldiers, reading his declaration from a scroll, claiming this land…

Captain Cook whispered in his companion’s ear, “We may well encounter some resistance here today, so just be ready; when I tell you to get below…

you get that pretty little head of yours down into the safety of the Gunnels, leave the rest to me.”

He then turned his attention on his opposing Captain.

“And the band played Annie Laurie, and the King recited ‘for He is a Jolly Good Fellow’!”

It was the most appropriate thing Captain Cook could come up with on the spur of the moment. This arrogant prick was just dribbling his well-prepared shit, he’d been there, done that. It was not at all going according to script, but when some uppity arsehole is standing there stealing the land right from under your feet…it was enough to make the Captain’s Aussie blood boil, yet he managed a rather controlled introduction. But the uppity intruder did not miss a beat, either did not hear Captain Cook, or just didn’t give a shit. The Enforcer though took the lead, giving a bit of shit of his own, first planting the foot and charging towards the intruders, then grabbing the mike and blasting out a message of his own from the two very large speakers mounted on Old Faithful.

“FUCK OFF!”

Well, that caught the intruder’s attention. He stopped reading from his scroll just in time to witness a most horrifying event. As history would record the event, the Captain wrote in his journal:

“…and then with just one finger outstretched, the Warrior Queen threw Captain James Cook down into the belly of the beast which immediately issued forth a great belch, and simultaneously farted a great cloud of the most obnoxious, foul smelling black gas from its rear end, it may verily have come from the rear end of the witch herself, for as we were soon to discover indeed the Warrior Queen was in fact a most evil witch in disguise. Our beloved Captain was never seen again, for indeed the hideous beast had devoured him.”

But in actual fact what really happened was that Trish had whispered in the good Captain Cook’s ear: “This is my Country, these are my People.

You get that pretty little head of yours down into the safety of the Gunnels, leave the rest to me.” And grabbing him by the scruff of the neck shoved the hapless chap down below. The stunned rescuer now found himself staring down Old Faithful’s main barrel, with the two small bore cannons aimed directly at his head, and yet the uppity intruder still managed to find a defiant voice.

“I demand you hand over your prisoner to me this instant, or prepare to defend yourself against the might of the English Army”.

“Prisoner? We are all just prisoners here…of our own device.”

“I am only interested in one prisoner, that one being held in the belly of your beast,” the uppity intruder insisted.

“Oh that old falla”, Trish glanced down meeting Cooky’s bewildered gaze up at her, and giving him a reassuring wink, “he can check out any time he likes…but he can never leave.” Trish paused, congratulated herself on such a controlled introduction, then proceeded with the business of her mission, as Captain Cook watched the whole scenario unfold, through the viewing slot in Old Faithful; ‘twas out of his hands now, for better or for worse.

“Well fuck you, you arrogant cunt!” What restraint? “You come here uninvited to another woman’s country, there’s people all over the place, there’s a surf carnival going on for fuck sake! You don’t introduce yourself, you don’t say g’day, how ya goin’, kiss my arse or nothing. You just plant your fucking flag in the sand and start dribbling shit from some stupid scroll, you rude arrogant prick. So let’s start again; introduce yourself.”

“I am Captain Phillip Farro of His Majesty’s Navy and I have been sent by my King to claim this land in His majesty’s name, and to rescue Captain James Cook, whom I believe you are holding prisoner in the belly of your beast.”

“Look mate, I appreciate your need to accomplish your mission, we’ve all got a job to do, just don’t make me do mine, that’s all.” The tone of her voice leaving her opponent in no doubt that was a threat, not an idle statement. Still the good Captain felt no pressure. What could one woman do with no soldiers, no guns. “You’re too late, about forty thousand years too late. You see, this land is already taken.”

“Taken? Taken by black savages. This land is very much not taken, my good woman, but if you will just step aside and allow me to continue, it will be taken, for England.”

“I’ve given you your one warning Captain, I’ll repeat it one more time, then the water and sand will turn red with the blood of you and your soldiers. My job is to halt this invasion right here and now, and send you back where you came from.”