Backyard Ashes

(DARYL BRAITHWAITE "ONE SUMMER")

Started out last night

I was thinking of days gone by

Of the times I've had

And the things that I left behind

Some change, some die

Still we manage to survive

It's knowing where and what to do

It's up to you

Don't know what's going on

I can't wait till

One summer

I'll find a way

One summer

Will always remain

One summer

Remember the way

Hauled down, turned around

Find myself facing the wall

I think back to school

It's all the same

Slightly different rules

Outside on your own...

(SIGHS)

You wouldn't be dead for quids.

Well, the beast is looking

in great nick, mate.

Yeah, Merv, what do you reckon?

She's the bee's knees, Dougie.

Come on, mate. Show 'em

the new modifications.

Yeah, a test run would

be most interesting.

Alright, where's Lil?

(DISTANT CONVERSATIONS)

I think we're clear for lift-off.

(GAS HUMS)

(WHIRRING)

(BOOM!)

(HISSING, COUGHING)

Maybe a tad too much gas.

Nah. She's a bloody ripper, Dougie!

What are you boys up to over there?

Um, nothing, Lil, nothing at all.

Oh, get away with you, Pigeon.

Make sure you get my good side, huh.

Mm... we don't want to end up

in one of your bloody

'Viewtube' videos.

- It's YouTube, Mum.

- Mm, same thing.

DOUGIE:
Watch the pitch, Spock.

Just testing the moisture

content, you silly bastard.

Can we skip the pitch reportage

bullshit for once, Spock?

- Language, Bin.

- Sorry, my love.

Yeah, language, Bin.

His language has gone to sh*t

since he's been hanging with

you bunch of Aussie bastards.

- (LAUGHTER)

- You're a lucky man, Bin.

You're on a bloody

good wicket there, son!

Good wicket?

I don't understand, Mervyn.

SPOCK:
What he's trying

to tell you, mate,

is that we only invite you

over here

so we can perve on your missus.

All I can say is thank Allah

for arranged marriages.

SPOCK:
Just taking the piss, Binny.

- Why would he want your piss?

- Well...

Bit of focus in the field, please,

gents.

ALL:
Dougie's a wanker

(RHYTHMIC CLAPPING)

WOMEN:
Dougie's a wanker

(RHYTHMIC CLAPPING)

Dougie's a wanker

(CLAPPING)

WOMEN:
Whoa!

- Yah!

- (GROANING AND SHOUTING)

It's a batsman's world.

MERV:
Bring it here, boy.

(WHISTLES)

Good boy. Good on ya. Eugh!

Here you go, Mouse.

Oh, gross, Merv!

(LAUGHTER)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

SPOCK:
Come on, Taka,

bowl them up. Come on.

(CLANG!)

(MEN SHOUT)

- MERV:
Howzat!

Sorry, it's caught behind, Taka.

Is that out? How is that an out?

- You didn't tell me that.

- It's an automatic wicky.

Wicky, what is... what is wicky?

What the frig is a wicky?

It's in our constitution, Taka.

Our forefathers invented it

so blokes like me wouldn't have

to put their beer down.

(WHISPERING) OK,

No ball! Same as last year.

You are well aware my action

is totally legal, Spock.

So you keep telling us, Murali.

- No ball.

- MEN:
Whoa-ho-ho!

Six and out!

Go and get that one, Mouse.

I'll get the next one.

No more than 15 degrees, Binny.

MAC:
They're at it again, Wilma.

Bloomin' barbies and cricket

all day long!

(CHUCKLES) Looks like they're

settled in for a big one.

WILMA:

Might have to turn the hose on them

if they get too rowdy.

Nice idea, Wilma.

What do you know about

this meeting tomorrow at work?

No idea, mate.

Feel like a mushroom at work,

always in the dark.

Thanks, Mouse. Must be my bowl.

Hang on, mate. Hang on.

Bat for ball.

Oh, go on. I'll keep wicky.

See that, boys? Nice, high elbow.

You'll see this finger up very high in a

minute, Douglas, if you don't shut up!

Nice one, Bin. I'm with you.

Just trying to educate you in

the finer aspects of the game.

MAN ON PA SYSTEM:

All staff, please report

to the loading dock immediately.

All staff, please report

to the loading dock immediately.

Here we go.

What do you reckon's up this time?

I don't know. Could be anything,

knowing these clowns.

(INDISTINCT MURMURS)

Good afternoon.

My name is Edward Lords.

Recent pressures from

the global financial crisis

and associated de-leveraging

will likely see a contraction

in the manufacturing sector.

- Here we go.

- Wha... what did he say?

Nothing good.

Now, my team and I

have been brought in to analyse

the day-to-day operations

of this factory.

EDWARD:
And upon review,

management have determined

that the best way to improve

our core operations

is to implement new technologies.

In order to execute these changes,

we must make a number

of forced redundancies.

That's bullshit!

How about some notice,

you bastards?

(SHOUTING)

Those persons affected

will have their name listed

on the staff noticeboard.

And their redundancy

will be effective immediately.

- Oh, come off it!

- No way!

'Immediately'.

I'll go check the board for us.

Pommy wanker doesn't give a sh*t.

I'm not overly convinced

his fiscal policies

represent a totally laissez-faire

economic approach.

Like I said,

he doesn't give a sh*t.

Tell it to me straight, Norm.

Uh... you blokes are OK.

- Hang on. What's up?

- I'm out.

- What?

- Canned.

- You're not.

- Outrageous.

I'm not the only one.

Heaps have gotten

their marching orders.

Anyway, I suppose it's hard times

for everyone at the moment.

Why do we always get

the sharp end of the stick?

What other options

might you have, Norman?

I... never really

thought about it before, Bin.

There's not much work

going around here.

Mate...

I'd better get home

and tell the missus.

Hey, Norm. Talk later.

Hey!

- DOUGIE:
You can't do this.

- I'm sorry?

You can't just come here and sack

people and then just piss off.

It's my job to make these decisions

so the factory can continue...

DOUGIE:
You don't get it, do ya?

It's not my job to 'get it'.

If you'll excuse me.

Very important man.

SHEP:
Oh, yeah? What makes

you say that, Taka?

He doesn't drive a Commodore.

Meow!

That's bullshit, that is.

And stumps, I take it.

Yeah. At stumps.

You alright, love?

He may as well have given it away.

Times are tough, darl.

It's a bloody joke, Lil.

Don't get yourself worked up, love.

MEN:
Ooh!

Come on, go! Go! Go!

- (MEN SHOUT, WOMEN CHUCKLE)

- Safe.

Good running, mate, good running.

Well, this could be the last ball.

SPOCK:
Will Norm's career

have the fairytale finish

he so hopes?

Stuck here on 49 runs and 22 beers.

- Come on, Dougie.

- His last ball.

Serve us up a pie, mate.

(ALL GROAN)

- That's four.

- Hehe!

- That's it!

- (CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

Well played, Norm.

SPOCK:
As Norm leaves the field

for the very, very last time,

the crowd and his teammates

give him a standing ovulation!

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

- See you, Taka.

- Thanks, man.

See you, Tak.

It was a good day, Dougie.

It seemed to go alright.

Thanks for chucking

it together for us.

Ah, it's the least I could do.

Had to make sure you pissed off.

(CHUCKLES) Thanks, bastard.

Jeez, I hope

there's no d*ckheads like you

in Broken Hill.

Yeah, me too.

You might end up coming back.

I guess I'll... be seein' ya.

You keep in touch.

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