Original subtitles

It was somewhere back in '85

when the Les Norton show first came to town.

Am I going to have trouble with you, Les Norton?

Wouldn't have thought so, sir.

Welcome to Sydney's best-kept secret.

Jeez, I'm pretty sure these joints are illegal up in Queensland.

Price owns a club, which makes him the unofficial boss of the Cross.

I'm just a concerned citizen

who likes to engage with me local community, that's all.

For God's sake, girls,

I left Queensland so less people would try to kill me, not more.

Mate, that lady is Doreen Bognor, brothel queen of Western Sydney.

You take those young Thai girls, for instance.

They should've been finishing off high school, not fat Australian men.

Price is a big handball for you, right?

Oh, fair go, Eddie.

Gotta be at least 20 feet deep in there.

- What have you lost? - Keys.

It's not gonna go unnoticed that she's gone missing

within two weeks of her setting up shop inside your patch, Price.

Free country right?

When I manage to track her down myself,

they'll have no choice but to bring me into the fold, right?

Welcome to the family, Les.

Ever heard the expression "Trouble in paradise"?

Because that's exactly where Les Norton found himself

that perfect Sydney morning.

On one hand, he was kicking back at Australia's most famous beach

with a light nor'easter brewing and an entire day to kill.

But on the other hand,

his arrival in the big smoke

had brought with it a few unexpected complications.

Through no fault of his own, mind you.

Still, Les was an optimist at heart.

He'd only been there two weeks

and already he'd found somewhere to crash,

somehow to pay for it.

And he had to admit that as far as places to lay low were concerned,

the harbour city wasn't half bad.

Yeah.

Not half bad at all.

Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com

You know, you gotta question the calibre of a bloke

that flogs another man's boots from the beach.

I question the calibre of a bloke

who wears boots to the beach in the first place.

So it's my fault now, is it?

- I'm the victim here, remember. - Fashion victim!

Look, I told you, brother, just head up to Grace brothers.

Get yourself some dress shoes.

A good pair will set you back, like, 15 bucks tops.

What am I going to do with a pair of dress shoes back in Dirranbandi?

Ever gone pig shooting in a pair of dress shoes?

Ah, so it's a practicality issue. Got it.

Nothing to do with them cost money or anything.

Tight as a finger in a bum, aren't ya?

It's not about the money, William.

It's about the principle.

Besides, these are doing me just fine as it is.

Not sticking around long enough for it to matter anyway.

What are you ladies gossiping about?

Just telling Magic Johnson here

he should invest in a proper pair of shoes.

He might have a point, Les.

Oh, turn it up!

I'm not taking fashion advice from you now, am I?

You look like a bloody rolled up umbrella.

He does!

We're all done up there.

- Go grab a cold one. We'll catch up. - Yeah, right.

Shit.

Oh...

Come on, Eddie. I was only joking about the overcoat.

- Don't get heavy. - Trust me.

If was going to get heavy, you'd be the last to know.

Now, pop the bonnet and bang the solenoid

like the Neanderthal you are.

You're kidding.

You haven't told Price yet.

What's the rush?

Well, mate, you gotta fess up sooner or later

It's not like they're coming back anytime soon.

Oh, so you want to tell him, then?

"Sorry, boss, we lost the keys of your car

in the footing of your handball court right next to you-know-who."

Hey, hey. We didn't lose anything,

and I didn't know about you-know-who, remember?

Besides, you know, I'm... I'm sure he'd understand.

Well, I'm sure he wouldn't,

so for now what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

Or us, more importantly.

Now, when I say, give it a good whack.

- Ready? Go. - Righto.

Bugger.

Try again.

Started first time this morning.

You sure you're whacking the solenoid?

I don't know! It's dark in there.

Go again. Really belt it this time.

Righto.

Now really gave it a good whack.

Ah, Eddie, mate, you...

you might want to come take a look at this.

What's the problem?

I'm not sure, mate, but I'm pretty sure it's not the solenoid.

Hey!

Ah, Jesus.

That would've put a dampener on things, hey?

You're not wrong.

That would've levelled half the Cross.

Bloody good work finding it, old son.

I didn't, boss.

You can thank Harry High-Tops for that.

Ah... Is that right, sticky beak?

What were you doing snooping under the bonnet in the first place for?

Oh, you know,

just checking the engine oil.

What, 4:00 in the morning?

Gotta do it when the engine's cool. I thought everyone knew that.

Eh...

Well, isn't it good to see someone's bloody doing their job?

I'm going as fast as I can.

No shortage of blokes who'd like to see you in the ground, remember?

Yeah, mate, still here.

You sure about that?

Yeah. Righto, yeah.

Thanks, Neville.

That was my guy down in Collins Street.

And...?

You won't believe who was spotted

fanging it north through Wagga last night.

Melbourne's favourite son.

Who, Daryl Somers?

Bert Newton.

'Wrongside' Rossiter, you bloody idiot.

Impossible.

Wrongside's doing a five-year stretch in Pentridge.

No, he was.

Someone paid off the beak and he got parole last week.

Yeah, and now he's here.

This is security video from earlier tonight.

Yeah, get a load of that.

In and out in under ten seconds flat.

That's a true master at work right there, folks.

Fuck me sideways, that's the last thing I need.

Come again?

What, you think I want Melbourne's number one hit man on my doorstep?

It's not you he's trying to hit, you dopey dick.

I just had someone trying to vaporise me hit me in my Corniche.

Both of you, relax. No-one's vaporising anyone.

Eddie can take you and the family up to Shell Bay for a few days

while Thumper sorts things out over here.

This is Wrongside Rossiter we're talking about here.

He's not going home until he's done what he got me to do.

I've got the opening of the handball court tomorrow, remember?

Oh, for God's sake, we'll postpone it.

Are you kidding? You know how much I've sunk into that thing.

Yeah, I just got the last invoice actually.

Rebound Ace? You don't think that was overdoing it a little bit?

I don't know. It's much kinder on me knees.

Price Galese does not do things by halves.

You know, besides, Georgie, in this racket,

if I run at the first sign of trouble

I'm going to have every bloody hoodlum in the country

lining up to take a shot at me.

So you'd rather Wrongside took another shot instead?

Wrongside's just doing a job.

He is. He's doing a job.

The real question is, who's paying him?

And how quickly you can make him regret it.

Yeah. I'm onto it.

Oh, come on, chin up, Georgie.

It's not my first time around the block, you know.

It's not his either.

Before Wrongside can get anywhere near me,

he's gotta get through me crack security team.

And that's how it came to pass that Les Norton,

having been a bouncer in an illegal casino for all of two weeks,

suddenly found himself promoted to bodyguard for Sydney's Mr Big.

A promotion he needed like Adelaide needed more serial killers.

Ah, thank you, baby Jesus.

Oh, you bastard.

You shut your pie hole.

What? Hello? Yeah.

Mmm... Who?

No. What? No.

Ah... He's not here.

OK.

OK, yeah, no problemo.

What a delicious breakfast.

Oh, I hope it didn't get too cold.

I actually didn't even know what it was at first.

It's been that long since I lived with someone who cooked.

My last flatmate's idea of baking was three cones before brekkie.

Your brother just called, by the way.

- What? - At least I think it was him.

I mean, I actually couldn't understand

most of what he was saying,

so I just figured that you must be related.

Did he leave a message? No.

No.

Oh, well, he said no need to call back.

Nothing's changed apparently, whatever that means.

Terrific.

So...

What's on the cards for you today, Leslie?

Roped into a bit of overtime with the boss.

Any luck with that footy thing?

The footy thing. Yeah, nah. I, um...

I found it's a little hard to find an in.

You know,

I reckon I shagged the conditioning coach of the Rabbitohs

a few weeks back.

Might have been the Tigers.

You want me to reach out, see if we can make an intro?

Eh, cheers for the offer but another time, hey?

- OK. - I gotta get ready.

OK, you get ready.

For God's sake, Neville.

I'm not going to ask Price to be patient

with someone just tried to launch him into bloody orbit.

What I need to know, who's paying Rossiter, and I need to know now.

- Got a minute, boss? - What do you want?

Look, I know you've been flat-out,

so I thought I'd do a little follow up

on that brothel madam you were looking for.

Jesus, we've already talked about this.

I know, but it was just hospitals.

The Morgan and so forth.

- Nothing. - Yeah, exactly.

But then I did some ringing around,

and guess whose car turned up in the police impound in Kingsford.

It was parked in the loading zone out front.

Turns out it had been towed from the airport

the same day she went missing.

Doreen Bogner's not missing.

- She's not? - Not as far as I know, no.

But you were looking for her two weeks ago

and no-one's seen her since

and now I found her car...

Forget the fucking car! Jesus Christ!

Didn't they teach you anything down at Goulburn?

Alright? You are not missing until someone report you're missing.

- Yes, sir. - Right.

Which is the busiest cop shop in Sydney?

- This is. - Exactly.

Alright? So we've got enough shit on our plate

without you increasing our workload.

Do I make myself perfectly clear?

Probationary constable.

Yes, sir.

I was just trying to be useful.

You want to be useful? Coffee. White with two.

Door!

And, um, sure, while some people might see

a, uh... a wealthy benefactor

indulging his lifelong passion for handball,

I see a man who has yet again

shown his commitment to this community.

A self-made man of uncommon generosity.

Ladies and gentlemen, please show your appreciation

to a man I consider a friend,

Mr Price Galese.

Top hat at the cleaners, Les?

What? I've never been to a handball court opening before.

- No shit. - Uh, thank you, Minister.

One of my earliest memories,

uh, growing up on the dusty streets of Malta,

is handball,

and it's, uh, become a passion of mine ever since.

You know, sure, I love a game of squash, and...

... known to indulge in the occasional game of shuttlecock

if the occasion arises, but handball is my greatest passion.

Uh, well, aside from my family, of course.

So, it's my hope that this slab of concrete here

will provide the same passion for others

and, uh, provide hours of physical exercise

for generations of Sydneysiders to come,

on Rebound Ace, no less.

Thank you.

Hey, get a lot of him, he sounds more like a politician than I do!

Without further ado, um, it gives me great pleasure

to, uh, pull the curtain on the, uh,

Mirka & Ethel Galese Handball Court.

- Here we go. Get a quick one? - Here we go, mate.

Let's go. Come over here.

Bring the kids in. Come in, girls. Let's get a photo.

See if we can get on the front page, eh?

- Here we go. Come on. - All together.

Oh, you've got a Walkman?

Oh, very good.

How's Duran Duran, eh?

Heads up, soldier.

Wrongside's not gonna be hiding down there, mate.

That's the one.

- He'll be out there somewhere. - Gorgeous.

Snub-nose-down in his speedos,

just waiting to snuff out another candle.

Tssssssss!

Well, a bloke like that's gonna be easy to spot with that mohawk,

he'll stick out like dogs' balls.

What? You didn't tell him?

I figured he already knew.

Knew what?

Not only is he Melbourne's number one hit man,

but Wrongside's also a master of disguise.

Come again?

He's the best in the business.

Rumour has it that he once popped a paedophile priest

disguised as an altar boy.

Double-tapped him right through a confessional, "Pop-pop!"

Bloke's a fuckin' genius.

He's the Eddie Salita of Melbourne, brother.

- Oh, you're too kind, mate. - Oh...

But, yeah, he is my nemesis.

Borg has McEnroe, Manly has Parra,

and I've got Wrongside Rossiter.

Good to know.

Les wasn't sure

if it was the fact that Eddie was about to bar up

or that he was surrounded by thousands of potential hit men,

either way, the idea of going back to Dirranbandi to face the music

was sounding pretty appealing right about now.

Yeah, Bognor, Doreen.

B-O-G-N-O-R.

Well, are you 100% sure?

I mean, there's no activity on the... on the passport whatsoever?

Righto.

Alright, well, you let me know if anything turns up.

No, contact me direct.

OK.

And how's, uh...

how's Mrs Price, the trouble and strife?

Oh, she's fine, mate.

She, um...

She would've loved to have come today

but, you know, she had a previous engagement

that she couldn't get out of, unfortunately.

Oh, of course. I'm sure she's a, uh...

very busy woman.

Look, while I've got you here,

I've got a big block of land in Redfern

that I thought your mob might be interested in taking off my hands.

Redfern?

That's not an easy sell, mate.

Yeah, well, that... that's exactly why I reckon...

I reckon it'd make a terrific park.

- A park? - Yeah.

- In Redfern? - Yeah. Put some swings in.

Swings, roundabout, bloody seesaw.

You know, turn it into a safe place...

for the local kiddies to play.

Well, as you know, I'm all about the local kiddies.

Yeah. Look, I'd have...

You know, I've gotta piss off a few long-term tenants

but, you know, if we get a wriggle on,

might be able to break ground

before the, um... before the election's called.

Now, wouldn't that be something.

So, look, why don't you, uh, have a chat to your mates in Treasury,

see if there's any... you know, a bit of spare change kicking around?

Oh, I think, something on this scale,

I might have to take that straight to, uh, Mr Premier.

Yeah.

Obviously, there'll be a small bone in it for you, Minister.

Well, hopefully not too small a bone. Like a... femur.

I'll keep you posted.

- Good to see you, mate. - Yeah, you too. Cheers, mate.

So, why do they call him Wrongside, anyway?

'Cause he's a really tough guy

who's from the wrong side of the tracks.

Clearly.

He's a bloody hit man, Les.

So?

So you wouldn't want to get on a hit man's wrong side, would you?

I would've thought it was self-explanatory.

Yeah.

Either way, don't you think that's a little unimaginative?

Just concentrate on finding him rather than naming him, yeah?

Alrighty, who's up next?

Oh, I'll have a crack at the title, boss.

Make sure you go easy on me, eh?

I can't make any promises.

Yeah, serve up.

You ever had a nickname?

Nuh.

OK.

Good chat.

Oh! Good one, boss!

Oh, shit!

Boss, get down!

Where is he?!

He's on the rocks!

Give me a quadrant, goddammit!

Follow this general direction!

You girls alright?

Better now.

Mr Galese's on line 2.

Price. It's Ray.

What the...?

- Nice work today. - Aaaagh!

You taking the piss?

You saved the boss from getting his brains

painted all over his new handball court,

to say nothing of his daughters.

Oh, you know, just...

... happy to help out.

He's decided to circle the wagons tonight.

Members only.

No pin...

no spin.

Righto.

I got back from 'Nam in '69.

First tour, that was.

Then I moved back in with me mum in Punchbowl,

just to settle down.

Trouble is, the kid across the road

kept letting off firecrackers just to shit me.

Oh...

I'm sure he wasn't doing it on purpose.

Yeah, maybe.

I was pretty highly strung back then.

Anyway, I went over there one day after his mum went out

and I held a grenade up to his face, and I said,

"You wanna see a real firecracker go off, you little prick? Hm?"

I'm... I'm guessing that was it for the firecrackers?

He said, "I'd love to see that."

So I took him down the local footy ground

and we blew a hole big enough to bury a horse.

See, I thought the little prick was just winding me up.

But, in fact...

he was just a little fuckin' warmonger.

The moral of the story is, Les...

is that paranoia...

could be your friend.

You remember that tonight.

Yep.

As far as Les was concerned,

the moral to the story was either that kids and psychopaths

have a lot more in common than you might think,

or that Eddie Salita was more unhinged than first thought.

Maybe both.

Either way, Les was just grateful the story was over.

But, unfortunately,

the night had only just begun.

- All clear? - So far.

Punters aren't happy, but.

Members only tonight, folks.

- Have your badges out ready. - Oh, come on, mate.

Badges, mate? Just this once?

Sorry, guys, no badge, no play.

Have a good one.

Have a good night.

I wanna see your badges.

Ah, evening, Sir Kenneth.

Come on through, sir. Your badges?

Yep. Have a good night.

Les! What are you doing, mate?!

Justice Short, I'm so sorry, sir.

Go on through, Judge.

Drinks are on us all night, OK?

You trying to bankrupt the joint?

Mate, the... the whole 'master of disguise' caper,

it's really... really put the wind up me.

I can tell.

Mm, me too, to be honest, OK?

It's alright. We got this.

G'day, Billy. Boss in?

Yeah. I'll take you up. Come on.

You stay here, keep Big Red company.

Deja vu all over again, huh?

You'd think I had leprosy.

Hey! Get off the Roller!

Boss gets annoyed.

Yeah, rightio! We're going! We're going!

Nice ride.

Business must be booming.

I wouldn't know anything about that, I'm just the doorman.

Oh, Les.

I graduated top of my class at the academy

and I chose the Cross as my first posting.

You know why?

You like big redheads?

I like getting my hands dirty.

So, believe me, I can deal with...

whatever goes on up there.

Don't look at me.

The less I know, the better.

Same goes for you, I reckon.

Ignorance is no excuse in the eyes of the law, Les.

Neither is ambition...

Constable.

And neither is public indecency.

A woman?!

Well, now I've heard everything.

Well, Wrongside's cellmate swears

that a sheila paid off the magistrate to get an early release,

and in exchange he's gonna come and pay you a little visit.

Strike me blind. You know?

There's plenty of blokes who'd happily read me name in the obits,

some... some for good reason, but...

I... I've never been anything other than a gentleman

when it comes to the fairer sex.

Well, obviously, you've upset some tart...

Yeah, and as a result, I've had two attempts on me life

in as many days, both of them on your watch.

Bloody well makes me wonder what I'm paying you for.

Listen, we know some woman's gunning for you.

What we need to do is find out why, and quick sticks.

You're sure there's nothing you're not telling me?

No!

But what I am sure about is

I've put your kids through private school,

and I've paid for your wife's tits, twice!

I'm more than holding up my end of the bargain.

You find out who's paying Wrongside...

or I'll take back those tits.

Come with me, Gold.

I'll be back.

Uh, in the meantime, you should do something about those.

I've arrested blokes for less.

Chips, guys.

Wait there.

Hey! Hey!

Wrongside Rossiter! Eh? Who fuckin' sent him?!

He's got eyes for Price.

Who's picking up the cheque? Huh?

I... I don't know, Ray, I swear to God!

Word is, it's a woman.

I'm telling you, I don't know.

Hey. Hey! Hey!

Hey!

He doesn't know!

Find me a fucking name!

Thanks, Jules.

Cheers, Thumbs.

Go!

Out of the way! Out of the way!

If you ever do that again

you'll be handing out bloody parking tickets in Wagga, girlie!

He didn't know anything.

'Course he didn't bloody know anything!

That was a public service announcement, OK?

Word'll get out.

If anyone knows anything,

it'll make its way back to me quick smart, OK?

Could've just asked him.

Oh, Jesus.

Are you really that bloody naive?

If you ever get through your probationary period, Constable,

which is looking increasingly unlikely,

you'll soon realise that this whole strip is a jungle.

And like any jungle,

the animals need to know who's top of the food chain.

Huh?

What about the money?

Is that part of it?

That guy in there,

he's a pimp and he's a heroin dealer, OK?

I know that. But, more importantly, he knows that I know that.

Right? If I let him keep this,

I'm basically giving him free rein to behave any way he wants.

What? You want to go in there and tell those smacked-out hookers

that you're absolutely fine with that?

Is that right?

Nah.

Well, the good news is no-one's killed Price yet.

Oh, well, not for want of trying, mind you.

What's the bad news?

Going members-only hurt the take.

- We're down almost 60%. - 60%?!

At this rate, it'll only take a few hits, and things could get shaky.

No, Price Galese does not get shaky.

It's time to think outside the box, boys and girls.

Couple of years back, we had a dingo problem back home.

Mongrel of a thing.

No matter what we did,

it always seemed to pick off the chooks.

And I'd build a fence,

somehow he'd dig his way under it.

Bloodlust, they reckon.

So had to find some different,

think outside the box, Mum says.

So I brought the chooks inside with me at night.

Kept them under me bed.

Did it work?

Not really.

And by this stage he had such a taste for it

he couldn't help himself.

One night he chews his way through the flyscreen door,

sneaks in to go get 'em.

OK, let me guess, let me guess. He ate the lot of them.

Nuh.

Nah, I caved his skull in with a cricket bat.

Oh, shit!

I didn't see that coming.

Nor did he.

Ooh.

You know, the big copper job,

you might have stumbled upon the answer there.

What, dingoes?

We can't keep Wrongside at bay forever.

He's like the bloody dingo.

He's just gonna keep coming and coming and coming

and eventually he's gonna get in.

It's in his blood. So...

why don't we make it easy for him

and we just throw open the henhouse doors.

You want to lure in to the club?

Tomorrow night after the races.

We can throw open the doors

and we'll have a bloody rip-snorter blow-out party,

you know, get all the people dressed to the nines.

Master of disguise, he's not going to be able to resist that.

Price, it is a huge gamble.

Compared to what.

Right now we can't go outside, we can't bloody shut up shop.

We don't even know what he bloody well looks like.

At least this way we've got home ground advantage.

We'll have to be discreet.

Surely you've got some dirty trick up your sleeve.

I'll need a wingman.

Take Les.

This whole thing was his idea after all.

It was right about now

that Les was wishing he'd kept his big mug shut

'cause whatever Eddie had in mind,

Les needed to be part of it like Gandhi needed a meat tray.

For once those boneheads up on Macquarie Street

got something right.

400-plus acres smack bang in the middle of the city.

Something here for everyone, eh?

You stay here, mate.

I'd take you with me but it's a little above your pay grade.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Big fella, whoa, whoa. Easy, easy.

Easy. Easy.

Easy.

- Easy. - Well, aren't you wonderful.

This yours, by any chance?

He was until about a minute ago.

Seems to have taken more of a shine to you, by the looks of it.

Yeah, he came right up to me.

I'm Chenille.

Les Norton.

What, did he buck you off, did he?

Oh, little bugger, aren't you?

How about you let me buy you dinner to say thanks?

I'm usually not one to knock back a free feed

but you really don't have to do that, it was my pleasure.

Well, if you change your mind,

I'm in the stables near the showground most mornings.

- Most mornings, you say? - Yeah.

- Well, I'll help you back on. - Oh, thanks.

Up you get.

There you go.

- How'd you go? - Ripper, beauty, bonza.

Let's get back to the club so I can get to work.

Yeah. Oi, you won't believe it.

Forgot me wallet.

Funny, I believe it.

I was just going to zip back home and grab it before we start work.

- I'll pick Billy up on the way. - Yeah, whatever.

Just don't forget him.

It's a big day and he'll be filthy if you leave him hanging.

Mate, he won't mind from a few minutes late.

How the fuck would you know?

Righto, hooroo.

Come on...

Don't shoot! Don't shoot!

- Oh, my God. - I swear to God.

Hey, come on in, Billy. The water's fine.

Can youse two keep the screaming down?

Scared me half to death.

Sounds like you're doing laps with Freddy Krueger.

Hang out here then.

That way you can keep a closer eye on us.

No, I've got to get back to the front.

Don't be such a piker.

Come on, grab a beer. Relax for a minute.

I am not having a beer.

How come?

Your dad's not paying me to drink beer.

He's paying me to keep a lookout for anything out of the ordinary, OK?

Stay, Billy.

If you go back to the front,

Sharne's only gonna scream like a demented Banshee.

She's right.

Can you imagine what your old man is gonna do to me

if he found me lounging around the pool with you two sister girls

instead of keeping a watch out?

He'd skin me alive.

I like my skin.

Suit yourself.

Mm.

Come on, Les. Fuck ya.

Well, well, well.

Yeah, well, just thought I'd...

come see if you're OK.

And to give you this.

Give it to me where?

So, you sure I can't tempt you back to my place

for a home-cooked meal sometime?

Well, must warn ya.

Pretty good on the tooth.

You like a good feed, do you?

I'm a growing boy.

I'm sure you are.

Jeez, you don't muck around, do ya?

Life's too short,

so when I see something I want, I take it.

I can see that.

Besides, you look like you could do with a gallop.

Giddy-up, then.

Oh! Oh, it's like that, is it? Right!

Everything alright up there?

Amazing.

Look at you, you gorgeous thing.

Come to Uncle Eddie.

And that's how the big night rolled around.

Eddie was locked and loaded,

Billy was having a good old-fashioned sook

and Les was still heaving

from some serious trackwork by Chenille.

I'm sorry, mate. You know, she deadset jumped me.

Yeah, alright. Bet it was horrible too, you big gorilla.

Wasn't too bad. It was just a little unconventional.

And, what, I'm supposed to feel sorry for you

for leaving me with the boss's wacko daughters

while you did a little random tooling?

Yeah, random's the word.

Random good or bad?

Not entirely sure.

Yeah, well, Les, you better keep your head screwed on quick smart.

It's game day.

Wrongside's lurking out there somewhere, remember?

Yeah.

I'm gonna give Foghorn a hand.

Why don't you take a quick scoot around the club,

make sure all kosher, OK?

There he is.

Ho, ho, ho, Aussie welterweight champ, huh?

Buh, buh, buh, buh!

Uppercut, uppercut, uppercut, uppercut.

How are you, slugger?

Not bad, brother. How are you, Tony?

Can't complain, mate,

especially considering what I'm gonna do

to Price's bottom line tonight.

Ah. Good day to punt.

Like, I'm feeling a little extra lucky, you know.

That's bad news for you lot, though.

Knock yourself out, brother. I get paid either way.

Cheers, mate. Get in there.

Mate of yours?

Nah, that's Tony Levin.

Likes to think of himself as a bit of a player.

Oh, yeah? You don't say.

Small-time dope dealer, big-time deadshit.

And he's always like that?

Nah, sometimes he's asleep.

But you're sure that was him.

Les...

not even Wrongside would stoop that low.

Game day, brother. Game day. Come on.

After you, ladies.

If nerves were rattled at the Kelly Club,

the patrons certainly weren't feeling it.

The joint was going off like a frog in a sock

with punters throwing down the folding stuff

as if the minister was going to shut down the place any minute,

which was unlikely since he was on a roll.

Yeah! Cannot lose!

Oh, for fuck's sake!

I'm good for it. I'm a known quantity here.

I understand that, Mr Levin.

Then spot me the cash and stop pissing around.

What seems to be the problem?

This 'kin goose has dealt me nothing but 16s all night

and now he's refusing to spot me another fiver.

I'd be more than happy to take care of this, Mr Levin.

Once you clear your outstanding marker, of course.

Oh, come again?

House policy, I'm afraid.

Go get Price.

I've come all the way from Coffs for this, girlie.

Well, then, you'll have plenty of time to think about it

on your long drive home.

- Let's go, sport. - I'm not driving home.

Hey!

Jeez, mate.

Fair dinkum, mate, you're chucking me out?

I'm suggesting...

I'm suggesting you leave on your own steam.

This is bullshit. I won't forget this.

Well, you might if I throw you down the stairs, but.

Oh, you...

Have a good night, Tony.

Get home safe, yeah?

Dickhead.

Sure you should be hanging out in plain sight like this?

You're a sitting duck.

Yeah, well, I'm the bait, darling.

You can't swallow me if you can't see me.

Still no sign of Wrongside?

No, but we might have a more immediate problem.

There's a copper in the house.

Ha! Well, there's more than one, my dear.

Yeah, but, um, this one's straight.

Least as far as we know.

Struth, that's all we need.

Yes!

Pink suits you.

Much more flattering than blue.

That's not hard.

No more bets.

Does your, er, boss know you're here?

What I do in my spare time is my business.

Within limits.

Why would he care?

He spends half his life in here, doesn't he?

Still doesn't explain your being here.

I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

It's right in the middle of my beat, after all.

You want to know what's really illegal?

Tossing a girl out of a casino when she's on a roll.

Oh, I wouldn't be complaining.

You know, I saw your stack of chips.

You know, that'd be really interesting if I gave a shit.

Well, you got out while you were ahead, didn't you?

They did you a favour.

Who's they?

You're part of the set-up now, you know that, right?

Don't worry about me. I'm just passing through.

But in the meantime, if I were you,

I'd steer clear of the Kelly Club altogether.

Why is that again?

How old are you?

- 23. - 23!

So you've got your whole career ready.

Yeah, you can talk.

I don't plan on being a doorman in Sydney the rest of my life.

Now, I get it, you know,

you want to prove your mettle and all that.

But there's better ways of doing it

than hanging out at illegal casinos in the Cross.

Why do you even care again?

I already told you, I'm a big girl.

I know what I'm doing.

Do you?

Night.

Christ, there she blows.

Ah, shit.

Sorry, Father.

Nice boots.

Used to have a pair like that myself.

I said, nice boots, Father.

Oh...

Sorry.

Didn't realise I was on your wrong side.

Wrongside!

You're down for the Cup, are you, Bob?

Oh, poor Father's just had a little bit too much of the altar wine,

I'm afraid.

Boys, would you be kind enough to take Father back to the rectory?

Bob, would you like another drink?

I'll get you another.

There's no hole.

What?

There's no hole behind his fake ear.

Just looks like a bunch of scar tissue.

That's probably how he ended up in my caper.

The poor bastard's probably been persecuted all his life.

You reckon?

Well, you don't just wake up one day and think,

"I'm gonna start killing people for no reason."

What set you off, then?

Never really thought about it.

Are you sure he's alright?

He looks a bit off to me.

That's all part of the effect.

It's called the Cobra's Heart.

I came across it in 'Nam at a place called Chio Rio,

an old Montagnard tribal district.

I got friendly with the Monts and they showed me the whole thing.

See, if you get the punji stick you stick in the right spot,

it stuns your victim

and then it paralyses them from the neck down

while you transport them out of the jungle.

It's a cracker, huh?

And what happens if you get it in the wrong spot?

Well, that's why it's a job best left for professionals.

Hello, old friend.

Long time between drinks, eh?

Now, out of professional respect,

I'm going to skip the old "there's two ways this can go" routine.

Price knows that you were just doing a job.

So you tell me who's footing the bill,

and you can walk.

Fine.

I'll say a name and you tell me if they sent you.

One blink for yeah, two blinks for no.

Easy peasy, yeah?

Nothing.

You see this.

You see this, you ungrateful fuck?

Next time it'll be your good ear,

and I'll take it off with this, huh?

Now, tell me!

Tell me who paid you to knock Price Galese, you fuckin' mook!

Tell me!

I'm pretty sure he's dead, mate.

Are ya?

Are you dead, mate?

I doubt he's going to admit it.

Shit.

Fuckin' deader than a Sunday in Canberra.

Don't believe this!

I must have miscalculated.

Well, good thing we left it up to the professionals, hey?

It's not an exact science, mate.

You're sounding very judgemental right now, you know?

Right.

Time for plan B.

Are you sure about this?

Why, would you prefer if we just dropped him at the coroner's office?

Mate, I'd prefer it if we weren't disposing of another body at all,

to be honest with you.

Don't be such a sook. Come on.

Are you sure we've got the place to ourselves?

Yeah, 100%. The night-watchman's at the club as we speak.

Alright, you ready. OK.

On my three.

One.

- Two. - Hold up.

What is it?

You're not serious.

What?

You're not seriously going to steal a dead priest's boots, are you?

Mate, RMs don't grow on bloody trees

and he's not a real priest anyway.

That's hardly the point.

Waste not, want not.

As my grandmother used to say.

You little ripper.

Righto, you call them.

Why me?

Because they might recognise my voice, that's why.

We don't even know who they are.

It doesn't matter. I'm Eddie Salita.

I'm a known commodity. You're a nobody doorman.

That's right, I'm a doorman, not an actor. You're the hit man.

Still, if the shoe fits.

Fair dinkum, Eddie.

It's ringing.

It's me.

It's me.

The goose is cooked and the eagle has landed.

Done.

They're talking to their boss.

Yeah, righto.

See you then.

Feels like that moment before an ambush

and all the fun's just about to begin.

Yeah, I'll take your word for it.

What?

You believe in ghosts?

She's a bit alright for a copper, eh?

She's cuter than Thumper, if that's what you're getting at.

I need a big old country bloke on a plane to Brisbane

the day after tomorrow.

I'm getting paid to look dumb and drink beer

I was born for this role.

You drove eight hours for a beer with this shithead.

Weren't you interested in why he blew into Sydney in such a rush?

Oh, honey, I tuned out after rugby league.

Wait, so that's it?

Sometime, Les, you've got to make an example of people.

Next time just keep your pie hole shut, alright.

I was just stating the obvious.

Well, don't!

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