Original subtitles

- Man, it was true.

The rumours were for real.

It was demented out there.

These were the kind of waves you drew

on the back of your maths book.

As in, the kind you only dream of.

And in the circumstances, there was only one thing to do.

Go in for a closer look.

Yeah, check it out.

The water's chucking a major fit,

but Lockie's in complete control.

Lockie cuts left.

Lockie cuts right.

Lockie pulls a nice re-entry there.

Lockie's just ripping up that face.

And then, Lockie drops it.

And Lockie nuts himself.

Smack-o in the goolies.

Lockie wants to die now, please.

If it can arranged, please.

Status report.

My tricky bits have relocated to the back

of my throat and become my tonsils.

The pain is hideous, and I'm hallucinating.

- I'm in this weird room with Tiffany

and the rest of my favourite girl group.

And they're trying to apply first aid.

- Hey mate, you okay?

What was that?

- Pain.

What happened?

Did you nut yourself in the goolies?

- Tiffany, is that you?

Tiffany?

Okay.

So you can't sing,

you've never been on a reality show,

you don't have a belly ring, and you're a bloke.

- You gonna stay there?

Like half in and out of the water?

Kind of dead looking.

- Only til I'm 16.

- Yo, a sense of humour.

I saw you go out.

You're obviously not very intelligent.

- You're obviously a new kid in town?

- Obviously.

- Feeling lucky, were ya?

That reminds me of a funny story.

You'll like this one.

Advert in the paper, right?

This is true.

Lost dog.

You're gonna love this.

Blind in one eye.

Its left ear has been bitten off in a fight.

Now, wait a minute.

This dog is missing a leg.

Like the ad goes, answers to the name of Lockie.

It's so funny.

Yeah, right, that's me.

Lucky Lockie.

My second day in a new town and so far

life was proving to be one long whack in the goolies.

Rewind.

Yesterday afternoon.

- Gorgeous little town, so they tell me.

- Gorgeous, beautiful, yes lovely.

- And Lockie.

Rumour has it, it has some of the best surfing on the coast.

- Rumours need more work, Sarge.

- It's like everybody says, why stay on in the city?

- Because it's our home.

- Why swarm like drones amid heartless city streets,

when you could be knowing the warm loving embrace

of a vibrant small town community?

- We're busted.

- Can I see your licence, driver?

- Yes, of course.

Would you like me to step out of the vehicle?

- Do you want to, particularly?

- I'm easy.

Whatever you think.

- Okay then, that would be excellent.

- All right.

Now, what seems to be the problem?

- Well, no offence, but your roof rack there,

do you think it might be just a little bit overloaded?

- Yeah, yeah, I think you could be right.

- No, but, sorry?

Look, if you think it's safe,

that's okay with me, Mr. Leonard.

- Sarge.

Sergeant Leonard.

I'm the new police sergeant.

- No, no.

- It's all right, constable.

This is my wife, Joy, Lockie, Phillip.

This is Blob in the middle, Barbara.

Old fashioned name but it seems to do the trick.

- I wasn't expecting you til Monday.

- Well, we're here a couple of days early.

Gotta get the kids off to school, that sort of thing.

Senior constable Snowden, is it?

- Yes, it's Snowy.

- Snowy, you wouldn't be able to do us a favour,

would you, and show us the house?

- You haven't seen the house?

- No.

- I have a bad feeling about this.

- A lick of paint, some curtains.

What a lovely man, Joy.

What a lovely, lovely man.

- Yes.

I really am trying to be cheerful about it, Sarge.

But this bit looks, you know, horrible.

Look at that.

I didn't know you could make

Christmas decorations out of toilet rolls.

- Take it easy, Joy.

There's no need to panic.

This is probably the worst street in the whole town.

- Gorgeous, yes, lovely.

- He's stopping, Dad.

- Is this it?

- Creamy potato and artichoke salad.

- Joy.

- No, sorry, I'm not looking.

The spirit of Christmas.

Lighten up your dining table with these easy to make--

- Mum.

It's, well, it's--

- Does it have a two car garage?

What I couldn't do with the extra space.

- A lick of paint.

- But.

- Some curtains.

- I mean, the whole street, it's just swamp

and then more swamp.

Let's go inside.

You never know, we might be surprised.

- The inside of the house, it was worse.

It was like whoever built it was a complete idiot.

The house went all higgeldy-piggeldy, a bit like Mum.

- This is fun, isn't it?

Fun.

And exciting, isn't it?

An adventure.

In a new unusual town.

- And then there was our room.

- Dog.

- Wet dog.

- German shepherd?

- Wet german shepherd.

- But wait, there's more.

- I know.

It smells just like our old room

right after you'd wet the bed.

Sorry.

I shouldn't have said that.

Delete.

- Why not, it's true.

- Phillip, I'm sorry, all right.

Phillip.

It had been a long day.

And to be honest, there wasn't a lot to show for it.

- Maybe I should see about getting

the power put on tomorrow.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- Maybe.

- With dinner out of the way

it was time for a family sing song.

- And after that we all went to bed.

- Phillip, what is your problem?

- Sorry, can't help it.

- You sound like you're being snogged to death

by a vacuum cleaner.

- I'm dying of thirst.

- Well here's an idea.

Go get yourself a glass of water.

- I can't.

If I have anything to drink after five o'clock I, you know--

- Wet the bed?

- Sorry, Lockie.

- Why don't you just try lying down?

- I can't.

If I lie down I'll fall asleep.

- Good.

- If I fall asleep I'll, you know--

- Wet the bed.

- Sorry, Lockie.

- It's okay.

I'm stressed out too.

- You never get stressed.

- What, so it's not scary enough

I'm starting high school in four days time.

I've got to do it in a weird town

where I don't know a single soul, not a single face,

not a single man, woman, boy, girl, dog, cat, or frog.

- Listen, Joy.

The music of the night.

- Those are frogs.

You get frogs in a swamp.

You get hundreds of them.

- And that was interesting.

Because as a rule, Mum was really fond of frogs.

- Hey, don't knock swamps.

Man emerged from the swamp.

- And any day now this house is going to go sliding

straight back into one.

- What a lovely word picture you paint.

To think that one night this house

might slowly sink into the slime.

Gloop, gloop, gloop.

And all that would be left would be

our wonky old TV aerial sticking out of the mud.

And in 1,000 years time archaeologists would discover us,

the Leonards, homo swampus.

And they would discover, and this would blow their minds,

that we'd been eating corn chips.

- Dear, dear.

- Geez, Phillip.

Imagine if you had have had something to drink last night.

- Dad thought

he'd better stay at the house

to see about getting the power turned on.

He was also hopeful the removalist

might eventually arrive with our stuff.

- Bye, Sarge.

- And apparently my new high school

was within easy walking distance.

And since today was enrollment day

we thought we'd give it a shot.

Mistake.

Big mistake.

- I'm so sorry, Lockie.

This is going to be really tough on you.

I wish there was more I could do to help.

- Mum, it'll be okay.

I'm only enrolling.

- No, I mean, the whole high school thing.

We cover this in our parent effectiveness

training group all the time.

Lockie, you are taking your first fledgling steps

towards adulthood.

This is a rite of passage.

- Mum, I'll be okay.

- But you won't know anybody.

Not another boy, not another girl.

- Dead right, Mum.

Lockie said he was really stressing about high school.

- No, I didn't.

What, when did I say that?

- Yes you did, last night, you said.

- No, I didn't, Phillip.

I said, high school, that's so cool.

High school, bring it on.

- Go on.

Go.

- Name?

- Leonard.

- Leonard who?

- Leonard, Lockie.

Lachlan.

Lockie Leonard.

- Well, glad we sorted that out.

Is Lachlan Leonard your full name?

- No.

- Okay.

Next question.

For five points, your full name is.

I know.

I'm starting with all the hard ones, aren't I?

- Lachlan Robert Louis Stevenson Leonard.

- Yep, thanks for that, Sarge.

Good thinking.

- Gee.

I'd like to see you try and fit that on a credit card.

There's your uniform.

Take this form and move to the next desk along.

Stand behind that girl.

Streeton, first name, Vicki.

- Hi.

- Hi.

- What's your name?

- Robert, I mean Robbie.

It's Robbie.

- Vicki Streeton.

- Robbie Williams.

- Your name's Robbie Williams?

- No, no.

William is my middle name.

It's Robbie William Smiles.

No Miles.

Robbie William Miles.

- I know Brett Miles.

He lives in our street.

Are you from around here?

- No, no.

We're miles from anywhere.

- So, where do you live?

- Yeah, okay.

I live in a with a roof on top.

- That's good.

- This was weird.

I'd seen girls before, obviously.

But they'd never made me forget the word for house.

- Look, I'd better go.

My belly button's just walked in.

- It has.

- And girls had never made me

forget the word for Dad either.

- Yeah, over there.

He's come to take me back to the um,

with a roof on top.

- Okay, status report.

Yes, the power was on.

That was good.

And yes, I just met a girl

who was so cute I couldn't talk straight.

But I'd given her a false name,

so now I could never talk to her again

'cause she'd be assuming I was mad.

- It's all right.

I think you're really funny, and nice.

In fact, I could see us going on a date tonight.

- Yeah, but you're not even here, are you?

- No, sorry.

Okay, I was seeing things.

Not good, Lockie.

Time to clear my head.

So I went to see if the rumours were for real.

And here we are, back at the beginning.

And I tell you what, getting one in the goolies

is a lot like meeting a really cute girl.

It occupies most of your attention,

and it takes some getting over.

I'd experienced both in the last two hours.

- Sure you don't want to get out of the water?

- Water, don't know what surfies see in it.

The name's Egg.

- Lockie.

So, you're a metalhead?

- I like metal music, yeah.

- Don't know what you see in it.

- Can you walk?

- Walk?

No, of course I can't walk.

When was the last time you got nutted?

- Years ago, in a cricket match.

- Man, I hate cricket.

- Same.

- Don't know what they see in it.

- What?

- Laughing makes my goolies wobble.

- Actually, that reminds me of a funny story.

Have you heard the one about the--

- Don't, Egg.

Sympathy alert, family.

Fragile tricky bits.

No sudden movement recommended.

- Yes, I am definitely feeling

so much brighter about things now

that we have all our bits and pieces.

- Bits and pieces.

- Feels like home again.

- Sorry, dear.

Did that jangle you?

Come on, everybody, eat up.

What's the matter, Lockie, aren't you hungry?

- Nah, sorry Mum.

- I hear that the surf was really throbbing

down there today.

- Thanks, my supportive family.

Revenge will be mine.

- This is more like it.

- Let the archaeologists do their worst.

We Leonards have got nothing to hide.

- Archaeologists?

Yeah, right.

In 1,000 years science might reveal

that Lockie Leonard's tricky bits

had taken a hit from a surfboard

with a nasty dig in the left rail.

But would they be able to tell

he wished he was back in the city

where everything seemed bigger, and better, and warmer,

and full of friends and good memories?

Or that he'd met a girl he couldn't talk to,

and a weird kid from the bogan tribe,

the natural enemy of all surfies everywhere?

Forget it.

No one now or in the future could know

precisely how it felt to be Lockie Leonard right now,

in this room, tonight, with all that going on.

- Night, Lockie.

- Good night, Phillip.

("World's Apart" by Jebediah)