Strange Bedfellows Page #2

for the last five years,

I could write off so much tax,

I'd be laughing.

Hey, you could even

claim me as a dependent.

We'd both come out in front.

But how can we do that?

Well, it's simple.

We just become gay.

No!

No, no, no, no.

How many times

do I have to tell you?

We just say we are.

There's no physical.

(Ralph)

Hey, Harry.

No.

What's wrong

with you, Ralph?

I mean, this is

our big chance

to really turn things

around for us.

We could split our incomes,

claim spouse benefits.

Hey, we could probably even

set up a family trust.

You're not listening

to me, Vince.

I don't want anyone

thinking I'm a poof.

You're on the house here, boys!

Right ho, mate!

No, not poofs, mate...

same-sex couple.

That's what they call it

these days.

Same-sex couples.

I don't care

what they call it.

I don't want to be one!

(Vince)

We'd just be pretending,

for goodness sake.

What's your problem?

(Ralph)

I just wouldn't feel

comfortable with it.

I mean, I've got nothing

against them personally.

Good luck to them.

But I wouldn't

want them near me,

much less going around

saying I was one.

There's a word for you,

Ralph:
Homophobic.

(Ralph)

Yeah?

Well, there's a word

for you too, mate:

Out of your bloody mnd.

Have you any idea

what the reaction would be

around here

if people thought

we were a pair of pansies?

"Same-sex couple," Ralph.

Take Big Red,

for instance.

He'd laugh us out of town.

Not everyone in town

is as close-mnded

as you and Big Red.

Oh, no?

Why don't you ask

the boys later

what they think?

(man)

Don't know any,

and I don't care to.

(man)

There is Eric, of course.

Yeah, but he's

the local hairdresser.

It'd be a worry

if he was the barber.

I'd cut me own hair.

You mean you pay

to get that done?

Get stuffed.

They reckon

Tom Farquar's eldest

is that way inclined.

(man)

Yeah?

Ran off and joined

the Australian ballet.

Next thing I hear,

he's up in Canberra

doing the

Nutcracker Suite.

Sounds painful.

[Laughter]

(Vince)

How long have we

known each other, mate?

(Ralph)

Most of our lives.

And in all that time,

have I even been wrong?

Yeah.

When?

Karen Stevens.

Karen Stevens?

That was 300 years ago;

get over it.

You said she was

a walk-up start.

Her father set

the bloody greyhounds onto me.

And I still convulse

every time I hear a dog bark.

Come on, mate.

I'd do it for you.

Yeah, let everyone think

I'm a fairy.

No.

We fill out the forms.

We send them in

to Canberra.

They register us

as a same-sex couple.

So then we're eligible

for the tax cuts.

They think they've got

a couple of sure-fire votes.

Everybody's happy.

Yeah, they're happy.

We're gay.

Well, just officially.

You know,

some public service d*ckhead

puts it in the computer,

and we're eligible

for the tax cuts.

End of story.

Mate, I really need you

to help me with this.

Please.

Just sign the paper?

Just sign the paper.

And no one will ever know.

Swear to God.

Sorry, mate.

I just can't do it.

No.

[Telephone ringing]

Hello.

(woman)

Hey, Dad, it's me.

Carla.

How are you, sweetheart?

I'm great, Dad.

How are you?

Oh, you know.

Got plenty

to keep me out of trouble.

Well, don't work too hard.

You always take on too much.

Gee, love, you're starting

to sound like your mum.

[Laughs]

Someone's got

to look after you now.

Hey, Dad, I'm thinking

of comng up on the 21st.

Oh, that'll be great.

You'll be here

for the Firemen's Ball.

Um, okay.

I'm bringing Peter to meet you.

Yeah, well, it's about time

your old man was introduced.

My thoughts exactly, Dad.

Might even have to give

the old overalls a wash, eh?

[Carla laughs]

No need to go silly.

Actually, we're thinking

of moving in together.

Oh, yeah?

Sounds serious.

Yeah, well, we'll see.

Well, I'll really

look forward to that.

Yeah, me too.

Say hello to Vince for me.

I'll see you then, then, Dad.

Love you.

Love you too, sweetheart.

Bye-bye.

Bye.

[Dog barking in the distance]

Good night.

(woman)

Good night, Vince.

(man)

See ya, mate.

Yup.

And no one will ever know.

No one will ever know.

All right, I'll do it.

Oh, mate, I could kiss you.

Just you bloody try.

Ralph, I can't tell you

how much this...

Hey.

I never did really thank you

for all you did for us.

You have now.

So I go in this box.

Then you go here.

Just a moment.

"Spouse"?

Why do I have to be

the spouse?

It's not important.

It is to me.

I don't want

to be the spouse.

Makes me sound

kind of wussy.

You're supposed

to sound wussy.

That's the whole point.

Why can't you be

the spouse?

I'm taller.

Well, if it's such

a big issue,

I'll be the spouse.

You can be

head of household.

That make you happy?

Well, happier

than being the spouse.

Help me through this.

"Period of cohabitation."

What?

How long since

we moved in together?

Well, we want the full

five years' back benefits,

so six years.

Now, hang on.

Hang on.

When did your mssus

shoot through?

About six years ago.

Perfect.

Yeah, so, what, she left

and then, straight away,

we move in together?

What's wrong with that?

Well, I don't want

to look easy.

It looks like I got you

on the rebound.

Okay.

So we saw each other

on the sly

for 12 months before,

okay?

Sounds reasonable.

It means neither of us

rushed into anything.

[Laughs]

Sometimes I seriously worry

about you, Ralphie.

"Address

of shared residence."

My place.

I don't want it going down

that I'm living

in a projection booth.

Picky.

"Orientation."

Well, the backyard

faces northeast.

Sexual orientation, mate.

Sexual.

Oh.

I'll just put down,

"Couple of old up-your..."

Bloody hell.

Oh, my old mum

would spin in her grave

if she saw that.

No.

"Private and confidential."

That means

it's privileged information.

Strictly between us

and them.

How could anyone around here

ever find out?

[Rooster crowing]

[Tires screeching]

[Upbeat fiddle music]

Oh, Father.

T op of the morning

to you, Ralph.

And the rest of the day

to you, Father.

[Whistling]

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

They're sending

a tax investigator

to interview us.

They're going to check

our claim.

Oh.

"Random testing of applicants."

Ralph, it's random.

Random, my ass.

With the bloody mess you're in,

I bet you the bloody

alarm bells went off

the moment you walked in

through the door.

Oh, no, this has got nothing

to do with my tax problem.

They're just sending out

an inspector

to check up

that we're really gay.

The fact is, Vince,

that some ferret

from the tax department

is going to grill us.

We're going to be

up Sh*t Creek in a matchbox.

Yeah, okay,

I will admt

we've got a bit

of a problem.

Bit of a problem?

Mate, we have attempted

to defraud the authorities.

They're going to hang us up

by the balls!

Unless...

we can convince them

we're telling the truth.

Vince.

You are not gay.

I am not gay.

Mmm.

This bloke is going to be

an expert on gayness.

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