All language subtitles for Les Norton s01e03 Bowen Lager.engg

(ALL SCREAM)

LES: 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.

Next stop, Bangkok.

OK? Go on. Get outta here.

Come on, you're telling me

you're not worried about
blowback from Doreen?

We had a good chat and she's, uh...

rock-solid now.

I thought I'd do a follow-up

on that brothel madam
you were looking for.

Doreen Bognor's not missing.

But you were looking
for her two weeks ago

and no-one's seen her since and
now I've found her car and...

Forget the car!

Jesus Christ, didn't they teach
you anything down in Goulburn?!

I just wanted to know
how Bevan Bender's doing?

They're not even sure
he's gonna pull through.

So, hope you packed
some spare undies, mate.

'Cause... you're not going anywhere.

(COCKS GUN)

Done.

Yeah, righto.

See you, then.

(RAIN FALLS)

(TRAIN HORN TOOTS)

You believe in ghosts?

Well, I bloody do now.

NARRATOR: And that's how it happened.

After a fun-filled few
weeks in the Emerald City,

Les Norton found himself face-to-face

with the dead brothel madam
he'd inadvertently buried

under 20 feet of concrete
two weeks earlier.

Or so he thought.

(THEME MUSIC)

Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie
www.addic7ed.com

EDDIE: You're pulling me chain?

GEORGIA: Nope.

- Twin sister.
- BILLY: Identical?

- What do you think, genius?
- I dunno.

Dolores Ann Bognor, 38.

Thumper reckons she's been
up in Thailand for six years

and popped up on their
radar a few weeks ago

when she came back to Sydney.

(SIGHS) Thank Christ for that.
I can put away me bloody crucifix.

I wouldn't just yet.

He also did some digging,
and by all accounts,

you took out the nice one.

Yeah, right. Doreen's a 24-carat psycho.

Yep.

Apparently, this one makes Idi
Amin look like Johnny Farnham.

Well, that's just sensational, isn't it?

I come up here to celebrate
another successful title defence

and I've gotta bloody deal with this.

Come on, boss. How was I supposed
to know she had an identical twin?

That's what I pay you for, isn't it?

Yeah, but she's from way out west.

I can only stretch myself so thin.

Mmm.

No, you're right.

No, you're right, yeah. Yeah.

No, shit happens, I suppose.
Can't be helped.

OK, who's up for another drink?

Good idea, boss.

Wait, so, that's it?

What, is there a problem?

Well, kinda.

I mean, youse did
knock this lady's sister off.

- Les...
- No, it's alright, Ed.

You know, let
the young fella speak his mind.

Well, it's just...

You know, by all reports,
she's not the forgiving type.

Well, she'll just have to learn, then.

Blood's thicker than water, but.

Yeah, and concrete's thicker than blood.

Look, this Dolores character, you know,

she might be a little bit
upset by what's happened,

but she can't be confused as to why.

You think about it, Les.

Doreen opens a brothel on my territory

despite numerous warnings not to.

Then she stocks it full of
under-age Thai sex slaves.

I try to remedy the situation.

Then she tries to hollow out
my new favourite redhead.

What am I supposed to do?

You're supposed to
pay her a little visit

and let me knock this on
the head once and for all.

Uh-uh. The last thing
we need is a turf war

splashed across the pages of the Tele.

No, Georgie's right.

This whole Dolores situation,
it's a bloody sideshow. Yeah?

We knocked her sister,
she tried to return the compliment.

Now we're square.

You know, she can go and
bloody crawl under a rock,

if she knows what's good for her.

And if she doesn't?

How long have you worked here, son?

- Couple of weeks.
- Couple of weeks.

Hey, Georgie?

Tell Les how long I've been
involved in this rattle.

I don't think the
records go back that far.

(ALL CHUCKLE)

I think Dad started
doing your books in 1958.

(WHISTLES) 1958, eh?

So, you see, Les, this isn't my
first season in the game, you know?

Which is how I know,

no matter how good
a rookie thinks they are,

you can't skip reserve grade and
go straight into first grade.

And if you can't be convinced otherwise,

then you go and get an early shower.

Now...

Now, am I sorry about what happened?

- Not really.
- Not at all.

Sometimes, Les,

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

Just for the good of the game.

Now, I'm gonna make sure
Dolores understands that.

The real question is...

do you?

Um... h-hundred per cent, boss.

Yeah. That is the smartest
thing you've said yet.

I'm telling you, next time,
just keep your piehole shut, alright?

There's a limit to the future in
getting chippy with Price Galese.

- I was just stating the obvious.
- Well, don't.

There's blokes watching
planes come in at Mascot

from under six feet of
tarmac for less than that.

Bullshit.

Les, how do you think I got my job? Huh?

Now, come on, less whining,
more punching! Let's go!

That's it. Straight down the line.

Five more.

Four. Three. Two.

One! That's him!

See? We're gonna make a pug
out of you in no time, brother!

Whoo!

Hey, how'd that lady
copper go the other night?

What are you talking about?

Don't be like that with me.

Certainly took your time taking
her to the train station.

She got a cab home,
for your information.

Tss! Yeah? And that's it?

Course that's it.

Still... she's a bit of alright
for a copper, eh?

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

(SCOFFS) You can play it cool
with me all you want, brother.

I saw the sparks flying between you two.

Come on.

Mate... I'm a tourist in this town.

Sparks are all you're gonna get.

- (GRUNTS)
- Come on. That's it.

LAUREN: Oh, for fuck's sake, Lizzie,

I look more like a
shearer than that drip!

Oh, God, he's worse.

He looks like he'd sooner
mount the sheep than shear it.

Yeah, well, I don't have a week, Lizzie.

That is the whole point.

I need this role cast yester...

Well, can you call me if
you think of anything?

- (INHALES SHARPLY)
- Everything alright?

Oh, not really.

You know that Choice Beer
commercial I was telling you about?

- Yep.
- Not looking so choice right now.

We just lost our highly
sought after leading man.

Now he's gone to ground,
taking my career with him.

Ah. They can't throw you under
the bus for that, can they?

Oh, you just watch 'em.

I'm already on thin ice after
last year's Christmas party.

(HUMS PLAYFULLY)

(CAMERA CLICKS)

I have been known to take
client servicing too seriously.

I am guaranteed to get the flick

if I can't find a
replacement for this goose!

What's the earn?

Oh, it's three grand
for a national buyout.

Three grand?

Sydney has to be full
of posers chasing that payday.

He is a hard-as-nails shearer

and these city blokes,
they're all too goddamn pretty.

He has to feel real or the
whole thing won't work.

Fair enough.

Bottom line is...

I need a big old country bloke
with a head like a bag of cement

and I need him on a plane to
Brisbane day after tomorrow.

What?

NARRATOR: Now, in all his years,

no-one had ever accused Les
of being especially creative.

In fact, his entire body of
work was limited to a short run

as the arse end of the donkey in
the Dirranbandi Nativity play.

Right about now,
he wished he'd stuck at it.

Done this before, have you?

Yeah, it's, uh...
it's me first time. Yeah.

Feel a little out of my depth,
to be honest with you.

Got any tips?

Look, if you don't mind,
I'm trying to focus here.

Still trying to find my motivation.
(SIGHS)

Jeez, I would have thought three
grand and a trip to Brissie

was motivation enough,
but that's just me.

WOMAN: Les Norton?

So, you had a look at the script?

Yeah, I had a... quick squiz outside.

Any questions?

Well, is it any good?

- Excuse me?
- Bowen Lager?

It's a good drop, is it?

How should we know?

White man's firewater.

Uh, Les, this is Hobo.

He is the youngest director to
ever win the Golden Lion at Cannes.

He is amazing.

Oh, don't believe the hype, kemosabe.

I'm just a painter whose
canvas happens to be life.

24 frames a second. You dig?

Yeah, I think so.

Are you into the truth, Les?

Oh, it's... it's alright, I suppose.

It's everything, brother, man.

Just... be... fucking... real.

OK?

Righto. (CLEARS THROAT)

Now, I want you to pretend to
drink from an imaginary beer.

Well, a middy or a schooner?

Doesn't matter.

Schooner, then, considering it's free.

(CHUCKLES)

Now, all I'm after is the subtext.

Show me, don't tell me.

You do know what subtext is, don't you?

Yeah.

Yeah, I reckon I'll figure it out.
(COUGHS)

Now, sip from the beer

and then barrel the camera and say,

"Bowen Lager. It's the new beer
my friends and I enjoy the most."

(LAUGHS)

Is something funny, amigo?

Oh, I was just seeing if you could
help me find the subtext in that.

- Les.
- It's a serious question.

Funny man, eh?

Where do we find these fucking morons?!

Hobo, please, just calm down.

Just say the lines and leave the
writing to the professionals. OK?

Yeah. Uh, sorry about that.
(CLEARS THROAT)

Beginner's nerves.

We'll just... go for one, eh?
(CLEARS THROAT)

Ah!

Bowen Lager.

It's the beer me and me mates drink.

(BELCHES)

What the fuck was that?

Hobo, I am so sorry.

I was just trying to
think outside the box.

But there are a bunch
of others outside...

Just send them all home.

Hobo, please, we will find...

Send them home!

Tina?

(CLEARS THROAT)

Who the fuck do you think you are?

- Uh... Les Norton?
- No.

You are a goddamn revelation.

- I am?
- He is?

- He's not.
- Sign him up

before someone else does.

Hobo, please,
it will change the entire crib.

Then go, man!

Lightning doesn't strike twice!

Go!

You...

You...

... have a talent, brother Les.

A rare talent.

(LES CLEARS THROAT)

THUMPER: Amazing how many dickheads

don't pay their parking fines, isn't it?

EMILY: Beyond.

Are you sure this is the
best use of my time, Sarge?

Didn't spend all that time
training just to sit behind a desk.

Or behind a blackjack table at
the Kelly Club, for that matter.

Fair go, Sarge.

I was just trying to practise

some of that effective crime
management you told me about.

Not at the Kelly Club, you don't.

It's off limits until
you earn your stripes.

- When do you reckon that'll be?
- You tell me, princess.

(INTERCOM BEEPS)

WOMAN: That Bognor woman's
on the line again, Sarge.

Third time this morning. Line three.

You right there?

Uh... no, yep.

I'm, um...
just trying to earn my stripes.

Keep 'em coming.

Door.

Unbelievable!

Sunshine State, here we come.

Yeah, you know why you're
heading back to your...

hillbilly heaven so soon?

- Uh, because I've got a rare gift.
- No.

- Because I'm a goddamn revelation.
- No!

Because of me, Leslie.

It means for the next two days,
I am your boss.

Yeah, but...

And as your boss, I am warning you,
do not fuck this up.

I've tipped you into the easiest
three grand you're ever gonna make,

so start thinking more like an actor

and less like a
knuckle-dragging bouncer.

You reckon you can do that?

I'm getting paid to look
dumb and drink beer.

I was born for this role.

God save us.

NARRATOR: So, while Les was heading back

for a few days of fun on home turf,

Price was in his own happy place,
nestled at his favourite table

at his favourite eastern
suburbs restaurant.

(SLURPS) Um, yeah, I'll take another.

Thanks, cue ball.

Are you gonna stick with the chardy
or change it up for one of these?

No, it's a sav blanc. I'm fine, thanks.

So, Dolores...

May I call you Dolores?

Oh, aren't we a gentleman? (CHUCKLES)

So, still no news about
your sister's whereabouts?

No, I'm afraid not.

Gee. You must be worried sick.

Yeah.

- Sick as.
- Yeah.

Well, Dolores,
let's cut to the chase. Um...

I just wanted to sit down and...

break bread with you

and make sure this whole thing
doesn't, um, escalate

into something that it needn't.

What whole thing's that?

Well...

I believe that you and your
sister have created quite the empire

out in the western suburbs.

Yep, yep. We're heaps entrepreneurial.

(CHUCKLES) Yes, I've heard.

And look, I, you know...

I just wanted to assure
you that I've got

no designs whatsoever on
what you've created out there.

Yeah, honestly, you know,
the last time I...

drove up Parramatta Road was in,
uh, 1979, and I'm still recovering.

No, look, I'm more than happy with
my humble patch here in the east.

The jewels of the west
are all yours, my dear.

Aw! Jeez, gosh, thanks.

Um... there's just the small
matter of you whacking my sister.

Well, I'm sure I don't know
what you're talking about.

Really?

Your goons haven't heard
of security cameras?

Well, either way,
there's the equally small matter

of you hiring Melbourne's

number one hit man
to knock me as a payback.

(SCOFFS)

Why don't we call it quits?

Why don't you suck my knob?

(BOTH LAUGH)

- Yeah, you know...
- Yeah.

you know, I was like you
once upon a time. I was...

I was full of vim and vigour,
out to take on all comers.

And then what? You got old and crusty?

No, then I got wise.

Which is how I know you
don't want to start a war.

Nobody wins.

But you'll definitely lose.

So, how about... how about we go
back to how things were before?

You mean before my sister was dead?

No, before you opened
a brothel on my turf

and stocked it full of schoolkids,

forcing me to put you out of business.

Permanently.

You really think you could?

Hmm. Oh, you betcha. Yeah.

You see, at the end of the day,

you're just another smut queen
with delusions of grandeur.

- Is that right?
- Yeah.

So, you know,
I reckon you should just smarten up,

because if you don't,
I might be forced to, you know,

get me shots after
all and head out west.

Rooty Hill, Box Hill, Surry Hills.

You name the fucking
hill, I'll flatten it.

How about Bellevue Hill?

You have such a nice home there.

And a lovely family.
What, two gorgeous kids?

How old are they now?

Are they looking for work
experience placement or...?

I hope you know what you're
getting yourself into.

I'm just doing what your
mother should have done

before you slipped out
of her festering clam.

Is that right?

I reckon it was what
Doreen would have wanted.

Yeah.

Well, keep this up, and pretty soon
you'll be able to ask her yourself.

Yeah, OK. Thanks, Grandad!
Time for your afternoon nap!

I'll see you soon, though!

(QUIETLY) You slimy fuck.

(SLURPS)

How'd it go, then?

ARTHIT: How'd you go, boss?

- Bloody nobody.
- He's a dead man.

ARTHIT: Here, take a load off, boss.

(SIGHS) Oh! Iced VoVos.

Arthit, you're a fuckin' saint.

(GROANS)

Mmm-mmm!

God, after all that time up in Thailand,

a bit of real Aussie food
goes such a long way.

Oh, tell me about it.

If I never see another tom yum
goong again, it'll be too soon.

- Mmm! (LAUGHS)
- (CHUCKLES)

(PHONE RINGS)

Oh, leave it.

It'll be our Thai friends
just wanting to know

where their missing girls and money are.

Yeah. Persistent little fuckers.

(GROANING)

Ooh.

- What?
- Is that Malcolm?

- Yeah.
- What's he doing down there?

Uh... He bit Montana again.

What? I have to look after my girls.

Well, what are you gonna do with him?

Hmm, I dunno.

What do you reckon, Malcolm?

- (TRIES TO SPEAK)
- Should I feed you to the pigs?

(TRIES TO SHOUT)

Shut up! Shut up!

Come on, boss.

You're still upset about your
lunch with Price, aren't you?

No! No, I'm not.

Alright, maybe...
maybe I am a little bit.

Maybe sending...

Wrongside to knock off
Sydney's most powerful crime boss

- was a mistake.
- Maybe.

But I should have been
the one to take down

that condescending cocksucker anyway.

Yeah. I'm the one that
now has to make it right.

The only question is how.

And how to get past his three stooges.

There's no road to Price

that doesn't lead
through those boneheads.

Mmm.

I know what Doreen would have said.

She'd have said...

find the weak spot and stick
your finger in up to the elbow.

Oh. Don't you have a home to go to?

Oh, you know how it is.

Government backbenchers
won't corrupt themselves.

How'd you go with the
extra psycho sister?

Did you straighten her out?

Oh, yeah, yeah, I suppose so.

I tell you, she's a bloody funny one.

Yeah, she might have a few
rungs missing off her ladder,

- if you ask me.
- Yeah, I reckon

you might be right there.

- Yeah, no, still...
- (SAFE LOCK CLICKS)

I think she got the message.

Oh, it's just a precaution.

I booked Foghorn McCormack
for the next few weeks.

Just a precaution.

Huh!

Hey, do you know,
when I first met your old man...

God, rest in peace, old boy.

I was a bagman for an
SP bookie at Harold Park

and, you know,
he was just fresh off the boat,

I couldn't understand a bloody
word he was talking about,

but by Christ, he could count.

Bit racist.

Yeah, no, he was a
fair bit older than I was.

I was just a boy. I was 19, 20.

Wouldn't have known cat
shit from strawberry jam

if you'd taken out the pips.

And yet look at me now, eh?

Top of the pile.

Doling out slings to the most
powerful bastards in the state.

With his own flesh and blood at me side.

God, it's funny how things
turn out, isn't it?

I'm sorry. I must have fallen asleep.
You were saying?

(CHUCKLES) No, it's alright.
I was just, you know, boring myself.

Um... do you need a hand with
anything before I shoot through?

Not unless you'd like to
help me balance the ledger.

Oh, Christ,
wouldn't know where to start.

No, Pia's got ballet recital tonight.

I dunno, Swan Lake or some bloody thing.

Yeah, you wouldn't want to miss that.

Yeah. Alright.
I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?

- I'll still be here at this rate.
- (CHUCKLES)

So, Mr Norton,
it looks like your suite's ready.

My sweet?

Yes, sir. I hope that's OK.

Sweet.

Suite. Correct.

I see here the incidentals have
been taken care of as well.

Yeah, that's about right.
Like, uh... Like what?

- Like a newspaper?
- Of course.

We'll have a Courier-Mail
outside your door when you wake up.

Plus room service,
minibar, spa treatment.

Looks like it's all being
picked up by the production.

- Beauty.
- All good?

Ah, sweet.

Alright, I'm just gonna go
and freshen up a bit

and I'll meet you back down here
in an hour or so for a drink?

- Whatever you say, boss.
- Mm-hm.

(CHUCKLES) How many
oysters is normal again?

Then an even dozen it is, my good man.

And a bottle of something nice.

What colour's that again?

Then the chablis sounds delightful.

Actually, uh, you'd better chuck
in half a dozen cans of XXXX.

Yeah. Just in case.

Righto. Hooroo.

(LIFT BELL DINGS)

Well, if it isn't Steve Stunning.

What the bloody hell
are you doing here?!

Oh, what, a bloke can't have a beer
with his own brother these days?

I wasn't talking to you.
Grungle, old mate, come here.

- (GROWLS)
- Hey?

- When did you get in?
- Oh, about two schooners ago.

- Mate, it's good to see you.
- Yeah.

How's the wing?

Oh, about a week away from being
able to sit you on your arse again.

- Oh, yeah? Just say the word.
- (CHUCKLES)

Oi! Over here.

Lauren Johnson,
meet my big brother, Murray.

- Ah!
- Yeah.

I'm pretty sure youse
two spoke on the phone.

Lozza's my flatmate from Sydney.

Yeah, and his boss in Brisbane.

Nice to meet you, Lozza.

Well, good. You are a sly one, Les.

You didn't tell me

that your much better-looking
brother lived in Brisbane.

(SCOFFS) Here we go.

Yeah, I'm not from around here.

I spoke to Les on the phone

and he mentioned he was
gonna be in town for work,

so... just drove down for the night.

- Where from?
- (CLICKS TONGUE)

Dirranbandi?!

Jesus Christ. How long did that take?

Oh, pedal to the metal,
about eight hours.

You drove eight hours for
a beer with this shithead?

Jeez! Mate, I like your boss already.

So... tell me...

what happened to your big, strong arm?

(CLEARS THROAT LOUDLY)

Uh... nothing. It's...

Who's up for a drink, eh?

What, so, they just put that in a cast

for shits and giggles, then, did they?

What are... are you drinking?

Um, what's going on here?

What, you honestly didn't tell her?

She's your flatmate, mate.

- Tell me what, Leslie?
- Oh, nothing. (CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY)

Let it go, huh?

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

Oh, honey,
I tuned out after "rugby league".

You see? She tuned out
after "rugby league".

Well, that's ironic.

(CLEARS THROAT) Murray?

Oh, come on, handsome.
You've come this far.

What?

I can keep a secret, I promise.

- Nah, nah, I really shouldn't.
- Oh.

But, you know,
seeing as you're his boss and all,

it all started at this
year's grand final.

The Dirranbandi Devils

versus our longtime rivals,
the Brewarrina Bandicoots.

- Muzz.
- We're down by two,

see, with a minute
to go when we got a penalty.

- (WHISTLE BLOWS)
- 20 metres out from their line.

- Whew!
- Right in front of the sticks.

Now, a kick at goal would
have levelled the scores,

but no-one likes a draw, right?

So Les takes a tap and hits it up.

Ooh!

I get a little inside
ball off to Muzz...

And I'm in and away.

Little fend, then slip it back to Les,

before Bevan Bender
introduces me to his elbow.

While I go off for the winning try

totally unaware of what's just happened.

And when I turn around,
there's the Bender boys

standing over and taunting Muzza
like a pack of inbred jackals.

What a piece of shit!

I hope he's blowing his nose through
the back of his head from now on.

Oh, don't look at me.
I was off with the fairies.

It's bush league, Loz.

I mean, stuff like that
happens all the time.

So, what, this Bevan Bender
prick just gets away with it?

(CHEERING AND JEERING)

Yeah, look, I just want to
thank the boys from Brewarrina

for driving all the way down here.

I know it's a long drive

and it'll be a hell of a lot longer
on the way home without this, hey?

(ALL CHEER, LAUGH)

Nah, look, look, seriously,

I just want to thank everyone
for such a great day.

The ladies here at the CWA for
the sangas and the lamingtons.

You know, uh, Rick here at the pub.

(ALL CHEER)

Uh, especially the ref,
Steve here, Boofhead.

Mate, he's not a bad
ref as far as coppers go.

(LAUGHTER)

Uh, nah, look, it was a hard game,

could have gone either way if it
weren't for the man of the match,

but the nurse reckons he still
can't remember his own name

after that cheap shot from Bevan Bender.

- (LAUGHTER)
- But...

Bender boys have never been
the most courageous of blokes,

and in all fairness,
my brother's never been the smartest.

MAN: Oi, Muzza!

So, just give it up for the man
of the match, Murray Norton.

(ALL CHEER)

Bullshit.

That's it?

You gave him a bit of a spray?

Oh! Please tell me that is
not the end of the story.

(CAR HORN HONKS)

- MAN: Bevan, you wanker!
- Hurry up! (CAR HORN HONKS)

Come on, Bevan, we gotta go!

Pretty sure they're waiting for you.

Let 'em.

You and me are gonna sort this out now.

Just... come back next year.

Oh, fuck next year! Let's go now!

Mate, the only place I'm going is home.

What? Afraid I'm gonna hurt you?

Like I hurt your piss-weak
fucking brother?!

See, the thing about my brother is,

he's gonna get better sooner or later.

While you and your brothers,

you're still gonna have to take
your socks off just to count to 20.

When you're busy not tugging
each other off, obviously.

You fucking...

Arggh!

- MAN: Hey, what was that?
- WOMAN: I dunno.

Shhhhit!

Dickhead!

Fuck!

What happened?

The fucking idiot took a shot at me!

He went arse over tit.
I didn't lay a finger on him!

Yeah, you try telling that to a
drunken busload of Brewarrina boys.

I'm telling the truth.

And I'm sure when Bevan comes to,
he'll confirm it, but right now,

they'll assume you had a square-up
and they'll want one too.

Yeah, they wanna have a square-up,
they know where I am.

Les, I am the only cop for 100 miles.

This thing gets out of control,
people will get hurt. Proper hurt.

Look, I'll write it up as an accident.

Just make yourself scarce.
For everyone's sake. Jesus!

MAN: Hey, Bevan? What happened to him?!

Bev! Stay back, fellas.

- (ALL SHOUT)
- Stay back. He's taken a tumble.

He's OK. Looks worse than it is.

Call an ambulance. Just don't touch him.

Terry, don't touch him.
Nobody touch him.

Wow. That got dark.

- Told you not to ask.
- Mmm.

So, um... how is Bevan now?

- Has he come good?
- (SNORTS)

Well, depends what you mean by 'good'.

He's still in hossie with
bleeding on the brain.

Which I'm... sceptical about,
for obvious reasons.

Still, everyone reckons he's way
better company than he was before.

I reckon he'd be thanking old Les

for doing him a favour if he wasn't...

you know, in a vegetative coma.

There's still the
other Bender boys, but.

Oh, come on. I'm sure they've
forgotten all about it by now.

I mean, what are they gonna do?
Hunt you down and kill you?

Don't worry, Bevvy.
We'll hunt him down and kill him.

Yeah! Les, your boss is right.

All you gotta do is swan around Sydney

till he wakes up and explains
what really happened,

then come strolling on
home like the prodigal son.

- Is that right?
- Bloody oath.

And in the meantime, here you are
in Brisbane with a bar tab and...

you don't have to
start work for 12 hours.

Well, you know, I can go one better.

Let's get a cab,
go somewhere fancy for dinner.

(ALL LAUGH)

(SYNTH POP MUSIC PLAYS)

(LAUGHS)

Bloody Torvill and Dean.

Oh, grab a partner,
mate, and come back out.

This disc jockey's unreal!

Nah, I'm alright here with Grungle.

Oh, don't be a party-pooper!

What about her?

What about her?

Well, she's been giving you
boys the eye since she got here.

- Well, she can keep it.
- (CACKLES)

Oh, this is a bit rich coming
from you dickheads, isn't it?

You're not exactly Bo and Luke Duke.

I'm not even gonna pretend
to know who they are, Lozza.

Besides, my dance card's full.

WOMAN: Les!

Mine too.

Hey, Muzz, Lozza, this here's Elaine.

She's, uh... yeah,
she's one of the top flight attendants

for Ansett Airlines.

Oh, turn it up, Les.

They reckon she'll be running
the company soon enough.

Good to meet you, Elaine.
You up for a boogie?

I've got a layover tomorrow,
so I'm up for anything.

- Ooh!
- Giddy-up.

What are we waiting for, then, eh?

Oh, actually...

it is a school night for me and Les,

so maybe we just grab a couple
of drinks and call it stumps, eh?

Got a big day tomorrow.

Yeah. Yeah.

Sounds perfectly realistic.

- (ALL LAUGH)
-
I love the way you talk

(SNORING)

(PHONE RINGS)

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Hello?

(SIGHS) This is he.

(WOMAN MOANS)

I see.

And what exactly is a runner?

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Lozza.

Lozza.

Lozza, get up. The runner's here.

- Lozza!
- (KNOCK AT DOOR)

Good to see you, Muzz.

(WHIMPERS)

- Hi. Les, is it?
- (GROANS) Yeah.

I'm April. How's it going?

Yeah, good.

We don't often get big ads up here,

so we're pulling out all the
stops to make it feel real.

Like, the guy pulling the beers,
he's the actual publican.

- Can you believe it?!
- Amazing.

My God, wait till you see the pub.

A real working man's drinking hole.

The locals almost
rioted when we told them

we were shutting it down for the shoot.

They'll get over it.

NARRATOR: Everything's
relative, I suppose.

Let me know if you need anything.

Oh, I'm good.

Les's eyes were watering like taps

and his face looked like something
you'd find on a pirate flag.

As for his hangover, ha!

It was already big enough
to sell advertising on.

But I guess it could have been worse.

There could have been a dozen extras

who'd been lured to the pub
on the promise of free beer

and who, as a result, all had
their wobble boots firmly laced up.

Stepping up.

MAN: (LAUGHS) Good Lord!

You look like me after Sleaze Ball.

- (LES GROANS)
- Come on, muscles, take a seat.

I'm Ruben. (GRUNTS)

You must be Les.

If you say so.

- Like that, is it?
- Mmm.

Come on, let's take a look-see.

No missing bark. No hail damage.

Bacon and egg roll and a
touch-up and you'll be fine.

Ooh, what sort of touch-up?

Ha ha! You wish, darling.

Make-up.

Make-up?

You reckon I need it?
I'm... supposed to look rough.

(SNIFFS)

That rough?

I don't think that's
the face of Bowen Lager.

Yeah, you might be right.

Trust me.
This is not my first after-party.

I'll have you looking a million
bucks by the time I'm through.

Now, you just sit back, relax,

and I'll take it from here.

Hey, bro, the lady on the phone said
all the free beer we could drink!

I understand that...

She was very specific.

It sounded like a challenge, eh?

Er, course it did.

Let me talk to the producers.
I'm sure we can sort something out.

Hey, you'd better, 'cause
the boys are getting a bit moody.

ALL: Ooh!

Just through here. This way.

Hey! (WOLF-WHISTLES)

Check out this pretty boy, eh?

HOBO: My muse.

What do you think of the outfit?

I love it.

Really?

You don't think it's a
bit on the bloody nose?

Not at all. You look like every
shearer that I've ever met.

You've met many, have you?

(LAUGHS)

Where would I have met a shearer?

Uh, Hobo,
the extras are getting restless

and we haven't even rolled yet.

Are you sure we can't tap another keg?

The only thing I'm sure of, chica,
is that it's not my problem.

Speak to the producer.

I would if she'd bother to rock up.

Don't worry. I've got this.

NARRATOR: Now, Les wasn't the type
of bloke to pump up his own tyres,

but he needed a bunch
of pissed-off extras

like Peter Garrett needed a
year's supply of hair conditioner.

Calm down, fellas. Calm down. Uh...

G'day. How are youse? I'm Les.

Yeah, nice shorts, Les!

(ALL LAUGH)

Fair enough. Fair enough. Uh...

Listen, I just heard the
horrible news about the beers,

and I just wanted youse all to know,

I'm gonna shout youse a few
kegs out of me own pocket.

You know, just as
a way of saying thank you

for helping out and all that
and being such good blokes.

(ALL CHEER)

No point being in a pub if you
can't get on the piss, right?

(ALL LAUGH, WOLF-WHISTLE)

- (KNOCK AT DOOR)
- WOMAN: Housekeeping.

Hello? Housekeeping.

LAUREN: Go away, you sadist!

Can you come back at a decent hour?!

I know you lot don't believe
in daylight savings up here,

but what sort of a hotel sends
cleaning at this ungodly hour?

You're not wrong.

Who cleans at... 10:30?

Exactly.

What did you say?

Oh, fuck me.

I love it!

Let's put one down.

Final checks!

You're killing it, Les!

Drinking beer and mugging off to
cameras, there's not much to it.

Trust me, the camera either
loves you or it doesn't.

You got lucky.

Bit of help from you, mate.
You're a bloody magician, you are.

(CHUCKLES)

Going for a take.

Quiet on set.

- (SIGHS)
- You good, Les?

OK, roll sound.

- MAN: Speed. Set.
- (CLAPPERBOARD CLACKS)

And action.

(SIGHS)

G'day, mate. What'll it be?

Just a Bowen Lager, thanks.

What the fuck is Bowen Lager?

NARRATOR: The big Cockney concreter

with the cavernous conk was Colin.

And what the fuck is it doing in my pub?

ALL: Yeah.

Uh, hi. I'm Rob, the assistant director.

You fellas probably didn't
notice all the film gear.

We're actually shooting an ad today.

No, you're fucking not.

MAN: Come on, Col, behave yourself.

I told you last week I was closing
the pub down for an ad shoot.

We'll be back open first thing tomorrow.

Well, it looks open to me.

Don't it, boys?

ALL: Yeah.

That'll be seven pints of Brown,
please, Terry.

Make it sharpish.

You know what
I'm like when I get thirsty.

G'day, fellas. I'm Les.

And I'm thoroughly uncon-fucking-cerned.

So fuck off!

Uh, we'll be gone by tomorrow, eh?
It's all yours.

I reckon you should
leave right now, son.

If you know what's good for you.

You red-headed twat.

Don't make me ask again, Terry.

Come on, mate.
No-one wants any trouble here.

How about you just find another
pub round the corner or something?

Surely there's another one to have
a drink at. What do you reckon?

I reckon I'm not gonna be told
where I can and cannot drink.

Especially by some
over-made-up fucking poofter!

(MEN LAUGH)

His make-up... is perfect.

You fucking Neanderthal.

Is this your missus?

I'm sorry, sweetheart.

Can you repeat that?

You heard.

Now, piss off, and take your...

merry band of soap-dodgers with you.

Grown-ups are working here.

I'd love to get stuck into
you, nancy boy.

Sorry, darling, you're not my type.

Ooh!

That's it?

That's it?

I've been hurt worse playing Monopoly.

(CHEERING)

Argh! Bastards! Get off!

Oi!

That was for the make-up bloke.
I quite like him.

(UPBEAT MUSIC)

You mad bastard!

I've heard every gay sledge in the book,

but don't knock my make-up!

Whoa!

(YELLS)

You were saying?

(SIGHS)

(ROLLS CAMERA)

(MEN GROAN WEAKLY)

Ah!

Sorry I'm late, people!

(SIGHS)

(GLASS SMASHES)

Well, on the upside...

it can't get any worse.

Actually, it can.

I put two kegs on your
tab for the extras.

(CHUCKLES)

Oh, well.

What does it matter now, eh?
I'm out of a job anyway.

Yeah, right.

You reckon I'll still get paid?

Guess that's my 15 minutes
of fame done, then.

Oh, at least you got to go back to
Queensland for a couple of days.

Yeah.

Yeah, not as fun as I remember.

DRIVER: Where to, boys?

Any one of these blokes

would have been a better choice.

- Yeah.
- Nah, I really fucked up.

Oh, we both did.

Nah, if I'd just kept my big mouth shut,

none of this would've happened.

I'm... sorry, eh?

Oh, honey, what's done is done.

Yeah, well... if it's any consolation,

I mean, it would have been
a shithouse ad anyway.

See the outfit they had me in?
I looked like...

I looked like the seventh
member of the Village People.

- (LAUGHS)
- I mean, the whole thing was just...

just so fake.

I mean, the only real thing
about it was the bloody fight.

NARRATOR: Waking that morning,
Les had felt better.

A couple of pegs were loose

and his right eye looked
like a Ken Done painting,

and yet despite needing
some serious panelbeating,

he felt something stranger still,

he felt happy to be home.

Shit!

LAUREN: Sounds good, fellas? Yep?

- Les, we're right in the middle...
- This won't take long.

of something. Seriously,
what are you doing here?

What I should have done
from the bloody start.

Now, you listen here,
you pretentious ball sack.

OK, and he's off.

You think you're fooling anybody
with your Navajo bangles?

- Uh, they're Cherokee.
- Mmm.

You wouldn't know real talent if it
crawled up and bit you on the dick.

OK, you take deep breaths,
sweetheart. I've got this.

- Yeah, bloody oath you do.
- Mm-hm.

You see, she's a maverick.

She was willing to take a shot on
a complete unknown like myself.

She's a risk-taker.
She's what this country needs.

She's the Alan Bond of advertising.

You know, she should be
promoted, not fired

by some wannabe fucking artiste!

- Leslie, seriously!
- Arggh!

(CHUCKLES) Uh, now,
I appreciate the concern, big man,

but I have been up all
night putting this together.

(PROJECTOR WHIRRS)

(MUSIC PLAYS)

VOICEOVER: A big old thirst
needs a big boy's beer.

Bowen Lager.

A beer worth fighting for.

MAN: Son, I've been in this game
since television was invented.

That was un-fucking-belivable.
I've never seen anything like it.

The most realistic fight
scene I have ever seen.

- That right?
- Yeah.

I've been asked to take over
the account immediately.

- Fair dinkum?
- Mm-hm.

And there's more.

Go on. Tell him.

Les, mate,

we want you to be the face
of Bowen Lager long-term.

TV, radio, print, outdoor.

The whole lot.

That mean I... still get my three grand?

Nah. Five up front and a 10k retainer.

Is that something you'd
be willing to entertain?

Bloody oath.

Sawadee ka!

Oh, that's actually all
the Thai that I know,

so... do you guys mind if
I just speak Australian?

Good.

Now, shooting poor
Arthit in the head there

is not gonna get your money back, is it?

Seriously, look,
I know you lost some of your girls.

I also lost my sister Doreen.

Right, put the guns down, OK?

Yep, lower them.

Lower those guns. Good.

You know I got the big boy anyway.

Now, just take a seat, fellas.

Take a beer.

Look, freshies. Let's go.

And, uh, let's have a little
chinwag about our situation, yeah?

Off you go.

(SIGHS)

Now, who here's heard of the saying

"revenge is a dish best served cold"?

Yeah?

See, us lot, we had a great
thing going on, didn't we?

Until someone fucked us.

So...

say hello to the man who's
been doing most of the fucking.

Have any of youse ever heard of...

the boys from Binjiwunyawunya?

Welcome to Sydney, boys!

Name's Billy Dunn. Nice to meet you.

Bush magic, isn't it?

You've got me babysitting a trio
of bloody voodoo witchdoctors!

Oi! Keep your voice down!

You and my sister make
such a cute couple.

Bet you're getting a
half-mongrel right now

being this close to her
genetic double, right?

- You reckon I should pull my head in?
- Yeah.

Although, it's in pretty
good nick from here.

(LAUGHS)

We want the original marketing campaign.

It is... pretty special, isn't it?

(ALL LAUGH)

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