Original subtitles

Ah, last motel in town again, eh, Boswell?

Well, it's not exactly the Ritz, but...

it sure beats spendin' another night in the truck.

Right, mate?

Hey, listen, we'll get some nice clean sheets,

and a hot shower, and, after that,

we'll hop into a restaurant, and get some nice chow.

A little pâté foie gras, veal scallopini,

dry marsala, and, if we're lucky,

we might even get a disco dolly for dessert. Right, mate?

Oh, and I won't forget the doggy bag.

Salacious vermin.

Base Four to Gypsy three niner seven.

Base Four to Gypsy three niner seven, do you copy?

Oh God. Shall we?

Base Four to Gypsy three niner seven.

Do you copy?

Mayday, mayday, this is Flight 77,

I seem to be in a great deal of trouble.

I'm going down, I need help. Over.

Is that you, Gypsy three niner seven?

Negative, darling, this is Quid.

Patrick Anthony Quid, as in British sterling. Over.

Three niner seven, we have a priority urgent for Perth.

Melbourne Meatworks, five a.m. Over.

Negative, Base Four. I haven't slept since Wednesday.

I'm hallucinating. Over.

I thought you truck drivers took pills

for that sort of thing.

Darling, just because I drive a truck

does not make me a truck driver. Over.

Come on, three nine seven, is that affirmative?

There's a strike in the west. They need meat.

Sweetheart, there seems to be

a great deal of interference here,

but I love you, I've always loved you. Over.

Why do we always have trouble with you,

three nine seven?

All right, we'll go double time just this once.

Affirmative, Base Four.

Five a.m., Meatworks, double time.

Over and out.

Hey, Boswell, isn't that that young fox

we saw hitchhiking on the other side of the weighbridge?

I told you we should have picked her up.

Now that clown's gonna get her.

Hey, don't look at me, pal.

Use Smith or Jones, what's the difference?

I mean, who cares nowadays?

Let's go.

Come on.

Oh, God.

First he steals my girl, then he takes my bed.

Okay, Bozzy.

It's you and me, pal.

Now, listen.

No snoring, and no evil smells.

I hope she steals his wallet.

I'll bet she doesn't even wait to take her socks off.

Let's go! Hey!

I'm not pickin' that stuff up. No, no. Leave that, leave that.

Go on.

Pack her, yup! Next one!

Hey, chuck that up the back. That'll do.

Okay, pal.

Boz!

Nearly got to the double last night.

Hey, boys.

I haul it in, you haul it out, right?

"With full devout courage of sundry folk by adventure fall"

"in fellowship, and pilgrims were they all."

Good morning, pilgrims!

Morning!

"Me thinketh it accordant to resoun. To telle you al..."

Hello, been away on holiday, eh?

Lovely.

To Warrnambool.

Fred Frugal and his wife, Frita.

Frita Frugal.

Bet she's a real dragon.

"You should have turned right at the last left,"

"and I told you, but you never listen."

Poor guy.

I bet he's an accountant.

Maybe a school teacher.

Nah, an accountant.

You better watch it, kids.

Not careful, you'll stay in that position for life.

Now there's a man with balls.

Benny balls.

Ah, Bozzy, "there is something in the autumn air that"

"sets the gypsy blood astir."

Sneezy Rider.

Hors d'oeuvre?

Hey, Bozzy, there's another one.

Maybe I oughta pick this one up and take her to Perth with me,

dazzling her with my stylish rhetoric and witty innuendo.

Eh? What do you think?

No?

No, maybe you're right. It's against regulations.

All right, mate, that's nine Jap traps, six Yank tanks,

and three VWs, which beats your Rolls-Royce by ten points.

You wanna keep playin'?

All right, I'll tell ya what,

I'll give you an extra two points for the trailer, okay?

All right, all right, make it three.

I don't wanna argue with ya.

You know, that's the trouble with you Australians.

You take your games too seriously.

Ahoy, Captain Careful!

"Bound to the sea in a ship born of your own patient hands."

Eh, matey?

What's the matter, Boswell?

Somethin' wrong?

Well, well, if it isn't our friend from the motel.

Hey, heave to, friend, move over your port side.

What's the matter, buddy?

Somethin' about that van you're not tellin' me?

Hmm.

Wonder why he doesn't pass?

Maybe he's after our meat, huh?

I wonder if he's still got that young fox with him.

Well, let's see if we can get a better look.

Why does anybody get up at five o'clock in the morning

to watch the garbage collectors?

A vacation, really, but my apologies to listeners...

a sound-poem, is what Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky

might have been, if Lewis Carroll had composed a...

The time is one o'clock,

the weather is clear and stable,

my name is Warwick Ross, and here is the news.

A council worker in the Brisbane suburb of Eagle Farm

was shocked today when he discovered

a human hand amidst debris in a storm water drain.

The identity of its owner is unknown,

but the hand will be packed in ice and sent to Sydney

for comparison with a human leg discovered

in a Townsville tannery last week.

Police are denying speculation of a Jack the Ripper type

murderer at large, and claim the two grisly items

are probably unconnected and isolated.

The United Meat Workers' Federation has blamed

the critical shortages of meat in retail outlets...

- Well, well. - On the union's inability

to contact their accountant Mr Floyd Day,

who is the principal antagonist in the strike,

which has left Perth without meat.

A spokesman for the Federation has asked

that anyone knowing the whereabouts of Mr Day,

who is believed to be returning with his family

from the Nirvana Caravan Park in Warrnambool, have been...

Sucker.

Hello, there!

Er... wait, miss. I'm sorry, er...

I'm not allowed to pick up hitchhikers.

Oh, I'm not a hitchhiker, I'm not hitchhiking.

My idiot husband drove off and left me here.

We could catch him if you hurry.

Why, isn't this cosy!

So high up.

Hope I don't get truck-sick.

- Oh, my name's Madeline Day. - Pleased to meet you.

But Floyd, that's my husband, the idiot, he calls me Sunny,

as in "Sunny Day".

Sounds like a wild and crazy guy, your husband.

Oh, that's nothing. We've got a daughter, Doris Day,

like the movie star.

We can go now, if you don't mind.

Well, I can take you as far as Yellowdine.

There's a roadhouse there, and you can phone the police.

Your, um... dog doesn't bite, does it?

Oh, he's not a dog.

It looks like a dog.

He's a dingo.

- Dingo? - Yeah.

What would anybody wanna keep a dingo for?

Well, I like him.

He doesn't eat too much, he's quiet.

A dingo's a kind of dog, so what's the difference?

A dog is a parasite hybrid.

I mean, he chases cars, he barks at shadows,

and he eats his own faeces.

But a dingo, dingo's clean, he's intelligent,

he's quiet.

In fact, he's physically incapable of barking.

That's why they call him "the silent dog".

He's an aristocrat.

Like me.

Are all truck drivers as stuck-up as you?

Madam, just because I drive a truck

does not make me a truck driver.

Oh, you and your tundra wolf sitting up in your ivory tower.

I'll bet you're not even married, are you?

No.

Well, aren't you going to pick her up?

Lady, that hitch is getting to Perth faster than we are.

That's no reason to call her a bitch, is it?

- No, hitch. "Hitch" as in hitchhiker. - Language.

Well, a gentleman would have picked her up,

with this maniac running round loose, butchering girls.

What maniac?

The one on the radio, on the news.

Yeah, go on.

I dunno, just some maniac.

Yeah? Well, what else did they say about him?

Did they say what kind of rig he drove?

- I didn't say he was driving a rig. - No, no, no, I mean...

How did you know my husband was an accountant?

It was just a guess.

How far away is this roadhouse?

- It's not far. - Good.

We have an accident here. We're clearing the road.

Would you please pull over?

- Where are we going? - Short cut.

Wait a minute, I've got it. The hoochie coochie doll.

It's mineral, not animal.

Oh, I don't know, I've guessed about everything in the truck

You never said it had to be in the truck.

Well, that's ridiculous.

It could be a thousand things outside the truck.

You're the one who wanted to play games.

- Give up? - Yeah, I guess so.

- It's your boots. - My boots?

Leather is an animal product.

Aha! My boots are imitation leather.

They're vinyl, a thermal plastic radical.

La-di-da.

Which makes them either mineral or vegetable,

but they're certainly not animal.

- So, er... I win, right? - But you gave up!

Okay, okay, okay.

- Hey, it's my turn. - Okay.

Um...

- Animal. - That fly there.

Now, look, if you're not gonna play the game properly,

- I don't wanna play at all. - Well, is it the fly?

Yes, it is the fly, but you're taking all the fun out of it.

You've gotta ask the questions,

you've gotta narrow it down more logically.

Okay, this time I've got a real good one.

- No, I've had enough. - Oh, come on, it's really easy,

and it's not even animal product, it's just plain ordinary animal.

Okay, but no tricks.

I'll give you a clue. It's bigger than a bread box.

- Me? - No.

- Boswell? - No.

- Well, it's gotta be you. - Wrong.

Lady, if there is an animal bigger than a breadbox

inside this truck, you better tell me about it.

I never said it was inside the truck.

- The pigs? - No.

- Kangaroo? - No.

- An emu? - No.

Well... the Nullarbor Nymph?

Lawrence of A-friggin'-rabia, I don't know, this is crazy.

- You give up? - Yeah, I guess so.

It's that man back there.

I didn't see any man back there.

'Course you didn't. You were too busy arguing,

but there was a man back there,

standing beside a dark green van,

and he was digging a hole.

What the hell is he doing?

I told you, digging a hole.

What's wrong?

- What's wrong? - Ssh!

What the hell was he burying?

Is this another game?

Why does a man stop in the middle of nowhere,

and dig a hole?

Maybe he had to, you know, go to the toilet.

Lady, you don't understand.

This same guy picked up a hitchhiker last night,

and then, about four-thirty this morning,

he watched the garbage bags being collected outside the motel.

And now he's burying more garbage.

Doesn't that seem a little weird to you, lady?

You truck drivers take drugs, don't you?

You've got the DDTs.

"Cast to the wind thy ghastly sin."

Pardon?

That's it.

The ghastly sin is dissipated.

Erased from existence.

And another thing:

a body wouldn't last half a day out here

with all the birds and the insects.

I don't know what you're talking about.

I'm talking about sex.

I am talking about sex.

Stolen from a young girl

in the back of a van or a seedy motel.

And I'm talking about guilt.

Terrible guilt.

Awful guilt.

A guilt so terrible that it can only be obliterated

by spreading the evidence all over the countryside.

Jesus.

I think I'd like to get out here.

No, wait, wait a minute. Now, don't be silly.

Now, listen, what exactly did they say

about this guy on the news?

I don't know what you mean. I don't know anything.

Hey, now, come on, lady, you're supposed to be

the authority on weirdos.

Now, come on, help me out.

Now, it was something about, um...

Jack the Ripper, or, er...

I don't know what you're talking about!

I'm just talking about a hunch, that's all.

- I wanna get out! - Wait, wait, wait, wait.

- First, I've got a game. - I don't wanna play.

It's, er... animal.

No!

It's bigger than a breadbox,

but it's small enough to fit in a plastic rubbish bag.

That is a sick game!

A human being is not an animal! I know what you're thinking,

- and it wouldn't fit in a rubbish bag! - Oh yes, it would,

- if you cut off the damn head! - Stop it!

Hey, lady!

Lady!

Lady, stop!

Now, lady, I am not gonna hurt you, I promise.

Listen, you stopped me on the road, remember?

I'm just a truck driver.

I know I talk a lot, and...

I'm given to flights of the imagination,

but there's no need to be afraid of me.

Lady, please, let's just go back to the truck, okay?

We don't want trouble.

- We never wanted trouble. - Yeah, well, who does?

Then they threatened my children. Horrible phone calls, late at night.

They killed our dog.

When the police came, they said the strike was Floyd's fault.

We've got our own problems, mister. We don't need anybody else's

I didn't see any man back there, understand?

Yeah, I think I do.

No vans, or lunchboxes, or anything to do with police.

And no more games.

Right.

No more games.

Hello? Er... hello, I'm trying to get in touch

with the nearest police station.

Right, right, hold on a second.

Er... hello, my name is Quid,

and I'm calling from the roadhouse at Yellowdine.

Oh, sorry, Yellow- "dyne".

Right, listen, I may have some information regarding

those murders that you're investigating.

Yeah. No, no, no, my name is Quid.

Quid!

Patrick Quid.

Q-U-I-D!

Quid!

As in pound note.

Right, I'm a truck driver.

A truckie, right!

Listen, I may have some, er...

Hello?

Hello?

Sorry, sorry.

No, I was saying, er...

Well, I... I'm trying to,

but I think we've got a bad connection here.

And listen, I'd rather not get into it over the phone,

if you don't mind.

Well, what does it matter what my name is?

I can't stick around, I can't get involved.

I've got a load of meat that, um...

Well... listen, it has to do with this business on the news about, um...

What?

No, meat!

Pigs!

I'm carrying meat, mate!

M-E-A-T!

As in meat?

Right, well, it has to do with a guy in a dark green van.

- Double or nothing on the 8-ball. - What?

Double or nothing.

Well, I... I'm trying to, but... Listen, if you just hold on,

- and listen to me for a second... - You're on.

Excuse me. Er...

Have any of you fellas seen a guy in a dark green van?

Thanks.

I'm sorry. Um...

No, no, I was talking about a guy in a green...

A green... green...

Hold on, hold on, just a second.

Hey, man, would you kill that music, please?

Hello?

What?

No, it's Quid!

Q as in "Quartermaster", U as in "Utopia",

I as in "Ice cream"...

I-C-E C-R-E...

Oh, Jesus.

No, look, I cannot stick around.

I have gotta get my porkers to Perth! Now...

No, no, it's Q-U-I-D!

D as in "Death of young girls", you cretin!

Excuse me.

That your dingo?

Yeah.

There's a bounty on 'em in this district.

Well, er... he's just a pet,

and anyway, we're travellin' on through.

Neither here nor there to the locals, sport.

They shoot 'em on sight.

The law.

You wouldn't want to break the law, would ya, mate?

Boswell!

- Boz! - My name's Madeline Day,

but Floyd... that's my husband, the idiot,

he calls me Sunny as in "Sunny Day".

Anyhow, young Dennis had been sick all the way...

Boswell, what happened?

Son of a bitch!

What the hell?

What the hell's gotten into him?

Okay, buddy, if that's the way you want it.

Well, whaddaya know about that?

What do you say, Boswell? Third time lucky?

Aren't you kinda young to be hitchhikin' out here all by yourself?

Aren't you kinda old to be picking me up?

It's not a pick-up. It's just a lift.

I, er... I don't usually pick up hitchhikers.

What makes me the exception?

I don't know.

I guess I just kinda felt sorry for ya.

I didn't know there were any chivalrous truck drivers.

Oh, what happened to your dingo?

You didn't, by any chance, happen to see a guy in a green van?

Yeah, why?

I wonder why he didn't pick me up?

You sound a little disappointed that he didn't.

And how old are you anyway, Hitch?

Old enough. How old are you?

Old enough to be your father.

My father's 67.

Oh.

You know, maybe he makes love to 'em first.

Hitch, does your 67-year-old father

know you accept rides from truck drivers?

My name isn't "Hitch".

Does your mother know you're gone?

She's dead.

My father lives with a whore.

So, you ran away?

No, I walked away.

Well, Hitch, don't you think it might be a good idea

to call him and let him know that you're all right?

Ah, maybe that's how he gets his rocks off.

Your father?

No, your Mr Smith or Jones.

You know, the Boston Strangler was on a sex trip.

God, maybe he makes love to 'em afterwards.

- Oh, c'mon, Hitch... - Well, why do you think he does it?

I don't know. I mean, I really don't know that he does.

I mean, let's not get carried away about this.

Are you kidding?

It's the most fun I've had all afternoon.

Okay, I've got a game.

Good, Scrabble.

No, let's call it the Smith or Jones Game.

Sounds interesting.

All right. Now, let's assume

that there is a method to his madness.

That everything he does is for a logical purpose, right?

Okay.

Okay, now he's just killed a girl.

Did he make love to her first?

I don't know. What's the difference?

It makes a lot of difference.

I think in order to play the game properly,

we have to know what he thinks of women.

It's my game!

Okay, Sherlock.

It's the method we're interested in.

Now, he's just killed this girl.

Now, how does he destroy the evidence?

Cuts it up.

Yeah, but why?

Um...

So the pieces won't be found.

Yeah, but pieces don't prove anything.

I mean, you can put an arm or a leg out with the garbage

- and it proves nothing, right? - That's ridiculous.

Yeah, but it's the law.

I mean, you can lose an arm or a leg

without necessarily being dead, right?

- Yeah, but... - But if you lose your torso,

you are definitely dead. But...

Lose your torso, I think you've had it.

But, one torso is pretty much like another that...

Oh, foul!

You lose a turn.

I don't think it's so important what he does.

It's why. I mean, what does he think of women?

- You're kidding. - No!

I mean, wouldn't you like to know what he's thinking?

You know, get inside his head.

I'd like to get inside his friggin' lunchbox.

I'll tell you what he thinks of women, he despises 'em.

- He thinks they're pigs. - But why?

- You know what I think? - Mmm.

I think you have much more fun sitting up here with your stereo,

and your air conditioning, and your dingo.

I don't think you wanna know.

You always done this?

No, I've not always done this.

When I was your age, I was first mate on a gunboat

in the Persian Gulf.

John bloody Wayne.

By the time I was thirty, I was transporting guns

across the Sudan border...

by camel.

Mmm, by camel.

And now you're pushing piggies to Perth.

Hitch, don't you think

you oughta let somebody know you're all right?

Nah. Why?

Your father might have the cops out lookin' for ya.

Nah, he wouldn't do that.

Oh, yeah?

Would you step down, please?

What you carryin'?

Pigs.

You in the habit of pickin' up hitchhikers?

No.

You pick up a hitchhiker last night?

What?

The manager of the Melbourne Car Hotel

claims you checked in with a young lady

fitting the description of a missing person.

Me?

Your name was on the register.

What?

Well, look, anybody could've copied my name off the truck.

Why would anyone want to do that?

Hey, now, wait a minute.

What happened to that girl, anyway?

What makes you think something happened to her?

Well, look, I don't want to get hung for somethin' I didn't do.

Meat is hung.

Men are hanged.

What's happening?

Well, did you tell 'em about the lunchbox yet?

Oh, sure.

And where were you a week ago last Saturday?

Um... Port Hedland. I was carrying some mining equipment.

And the Saturday before that?

Um...

Melbourne. Yeah, I was laid up overnight in Melbourne.

Why?

Well, the logbook confirms he was where he said he was, Sarge.

Logbooks can be cheated.

"Book of Lies", they're called, aren't they, Mr Quid?

Has this got something to do with

the thing that happened, er... on the radio?

Because, if it does, I suggest that you, er...

catch up with the guy in the green van, because...

According to this logbook, you should have had a

twelve-hour stopover two days ago.

You don't have much respect for the law, do ya, mate?

Well, if that young lady you shacked up with last night

has come to any harm,

we'll know exactly who to talk to, won't we?

It wasn't me. Now, if you don't believe me,

you can talk to the manager of the motel.

How long you had that dingo?

About four or five years. Why?

What's the matter? Didn't they believe you?

Believe me? I'm lucky they didn't shoot Boswell.

Did you tell them about our little friend?

Who?

- The guy in the van. - What?

- The guy... - I beg your pardon?

Oh, I get it.

- You know what this means, don't you? - What?

We're just gonna have to get him ourselves.

Oh, sure.

"Elementary, my dear Watson."

Except our friend in the van could be all the way

to Perth or Timbuktu, for all we know.

I don't get you. First, you tell everybody this story,

and now you don't want to do a damn thing about it.

No, not today.

Why not today?

Look, Hitch.

I'm not tryin' to lay a trip on you,

but we gotta pull over for the night.

Why?

Regulations.

"Nothing beside remains."

"Round the decay of that colossal wreck,"

"boundless and bare."

"The lone and level sands stretch far away."

So, you like my place?

Needs work.

Well, I only keep it to impress the ladies.

Yeah, I bet you they're real impressed, too.

First stop on the Pat Quid guided tour.

Hitch, you can leave any time.

What? Are you gonna call me a cab?

By the way, name is Pamela, not Hitch.

Pamela what?

That's all you need to know.

I don't get it. What's the mystery?

Are you on the I am or something?

What if I was?

Would you turn me in?

Me? No.

Well, I'm not.

So, what have you got to hide?

The fact that you're somebody's daughter?

Most girls are usually somebody's daughter.

But you're not just somebody's, right?

You're quick.

Well, I mean, er...

you're not what I would call the typical hitchhiker.

I mean, it's kind of obvious that that look is not early Salvation Army.

So, come on.

Who's your dad?

Come on!

I promise I won't hold it against ya.

He's in the diplomatic service, let's call it.

And you didn't like the service?

Life was incredibly diplomatic in Canberra.

Now, you're, er... lookin' for a little adventure?

Nn-nn, I'd go to Disneyland for a little adventure.

What I'm looking for is a little excitement.

Ah.

- What is this place, anyway? - Mmm?

Oh, it's Old Telegraph Station.

Used to be a town of about 700 people who lived here.

What happened to 'em?

They were devoured

by the dreaded Oryctolagus cuniculus.

Sounds erotic!

Listen, listen very carefully, you can hear him out there.

Munching.

Is he animal, mineral, or vegetable?

Or is it man?

Advancing like an army of plastic dentures,

devouring his fellow man?

And woman!

And woman.

Thank you.

What is a Cunic...

Cunaclum?

Cuniculus.

What is it, anyway?

A rabbit.

A bunny rabbit. No, I'm serious.

In the 1800s, it was a plague of rabbits here,

and they ate all the vegetation,

and the sand dunes began to advance.

It's when everybody left.

I guess it's why I like it here.

Rabbits?

You're weird.

Where ya goin'?

Use your imagination.

Hitch.

Pamela.

Watch out for the bunnies, huh?

Hello?

- Hello! - Hi. What are you doing?

Just, er... keepin' the passengers company.

Shut the door. You'll let the cold out.

Goodbye, young porkers!

"Goodbye, and keep cold!"

"Dread fifty above more than fifty below."

- How ya doin'? - Okay.

Robert Frost.

- How'd ya sleep? - Not bad.

I could sleep on a fence post.

- How 'bout you? - Well...

"Sleep not, dream not."

"This bright day"

"will not, cannot last for aye."

Emily Brontë.

- Right! - Read much of her stuff?

- Yeah, I have. - In school?

Nah. I didn't go to school.

Self-educated, more or less.

What's that old expression? Er...

"Education is hanging around long enough..."

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

Talk in poems.

Do I?

Poems are old and dusty.

You're not old and dusty.

How old are you?

Too old.

I don't think so.

What's that?

"Pig in a poke, you better start shakin'."

"Today's pig is tomorrow's bacon."

TS Eliot?

Hi, Daddy, it's me!

No, I'm fine.

Doesn't matter where I am. I'm fine!

Hello, Nancy.

What do you mean, "get raped"?

He's actually a very nice guy.

Yes, he is a truck dr...

Look, I didn't call you...

I didn't call to get yelled at.

I just wanted to let you know I'm fine.

No, I'm not coming back. Not now.

Look, I'll call ya later, all right?

Jeez, I hit a bump about a hundred miles back,

and the bloody thing's been driving me crazy!

Can you turn it off?

What'd he say?

He was very diplomatic.

Then my stephooker got on the line.

Wanted to know if I've been laying truck drivers.

See what I'm up against?

Yeah, well, at least they know you're alive.

Mmm.

Jesus, let's get outta here. That noise is driving me crazy.

- I gotta use the ladies' room. - Okay, make it snappy.

Quid!

Here.

Excuse me. Er...

Have any of you fellas seen...

Wait here.

Fix the bloody thing. It's driving me crazy!

Kinda caught you with your pants down, didn't we,

you slimy son of a bitch!

You know, butchering young girls is one thing,

but when you hurt my animal,

you made a big mistake, pal.

What's the matter? Cat got your tongue, you miserable stink?

Thank goodness for that!

- What do I owe you? - Er... make it five bucks.

Five?

Come on, not one?

Five bu...! What are you doing, charging me for five hours?

Look, any bloody fool can do that.

- Five? - Come on, fair go!

Word of advice, shithead.

You try anything funny,

and this dog is gonna have your eggs for breakfast.

You know, there's no way out.

Except down the S bend, or through me, cowboy.

I'm talkin' to you, Mr Smith or friggin' Jones,

or whatever your name is!

Oh, I'm sorry, mate.

I thought it was somebody else.

I apologise. Really, I...

Hitch!

Go to the truck, Boswell!

Shit.

Boswell!

Look out, mate, look out!

Watch out for the dingo, he's vicious!

That's right!

Go straight for your crotch, if you're not careful!

Hey, hey, hey!

If you read about this in the papers tomorrow morning,

you'll know what it's all about!

You gonna go straight for his crotch, buddy?

That's funny, he's slowin' down.

Maybe he's outta gas.

Maybe this is some new kinda game.

She doesn't look too kidnapped to me.

Does she to you, buddy?

What the hell is she doin'? Psychoanalysin' him?

Hey, you don't think she'd be stupid enough

to try and blackmail him, do ya?

Well, I don't know, Bozzy.

Maybe we've been barkin' up the wrong tree.

I told ya, man, I told ya the first time we picked her up,

she is trouble.

I knew we shouldn't have done it.

I hope she steals...

Well, at least she didn't get my wallet.

Well, she's all yours, Mr Smith or friggin' Jones.

Whatever your game is.

I mean, let's face it, what have we got on him anyway, Boz, huh?

What do we know about him? I'll tell you what we know about him.

We know absolutely zilch, nada.

I mean, is it against the law to dig a friggin' hole in the desert?

Is it a crime to have a lunchbox and thump dingoes?

Or put out rubbish bags at five o'clock in the morning?

I mean, what does that prove?

So, what if he is a murderer and he's goin' around

systematically butcherin' every female in sight,

and makin' 'em into tacos? Who gives a shit?

If the cops don't care about it, I tell ya, I don't.

I mean why is it my responsibility to take care of road waves?

We are truckers, Boswell, and from now on we're gonna truck!

And I don't wanna hear another word about it!

This is the news in brief.

The United Meatworks Federation still sees no end in sight

to the marathon strike, which has left most of West Australia

without fresh supplies of meat.

A spokesperson for the union denied allegations

that union strong-arm tactics have been used against

the United Meatworks accountant, Mr Floyd Day.

Although, it is alleged that Mr Day and his family

have fled interstate.

Police in Melbourne and Perth are seeking the assistance

of motorists in connection with the disappearance

of 20-year-old heiress, Pamela Rushworth,

daughter of US diplomatic adviser Warren Rushworth.

According to Mr Rushworth, his daughter is travelling west

with a truck driver described in his mid-forties.

Police have fears that the truck driver,

whose name has not yet been released,

may be the same man wanted in connection with

the disappearance of a missing Melbourne girl.

Authorities are denying any positive connection

between the two missing girls,

and the series of macabre attacks on young female hitchhikers

in Queensland and New South Wales,

although they remind the public that hitchhiking is extremely dangerous,

and of course, illegal.

Allegations by a senior medical officer in Sydney today

that drivers who operate vehicles under the influence of drugs...

Maniac.

He cuts 'em up like a Sunday roast,

and the cops are out lookin' for me.

But they got nothin' on me.

Nothin'.

I'm not worried.

I can prove it.

Well, autopsy, handwriting expert,

dispatcher.

I was on the road that night.

Hitch.

What was her name?

Pamela. Think it was Pamela.

Jesus, I hope they didn't see her in the dog box or...

No.

Cops couldn't have seen her.

What am I going to do with this truck?

Hitch?

Coward.

Oh, Harry!

Harry?

Oh, Harry... Oh...

Oh, wow! Oh!

Harry and Hitch.

Hitch and Harry.

Didn't even bother to park the van.

Boswell!

I honestly thought she was worth something.

Falls on her back, legs up.

Ready to give a good whack to the first Tom, Dick,

or friggin' Harry that comes along.

Oh, they're all the same.

They do it like animals.

No offence, pal.

Forget it, buddy, she isn't worth a second glance.

Boy, I'll tell ya, I may have to start takin' dope.

I gotta do something to get rid of these hallucinations.

Maybe he does make love to 'em first.

One thing for sure,

I need some sleep.

What's the matter, buddy? You hear that?

Oh, great, that's just what I need

for the frickin' meat to start thawin' out.

What's the matter, buddy?

You know something I don't?

Just hold on, stay here.

350 pigs.

Four on this side, four on the other side.

How many rows have they given me?

Twenty on this side... That means...

How many would there have to be? About four... that's eighty...

352, 350, what's the difference?

- Two. - We just miscounted, that's all.

350 divided by eight...

And I... I forgot to latch the doors this mornin'

when I... I was talkin' to Hitch.

- You know what probably happened? - What?

Sam just threw a couple of extras in by mistake.

Sam doesn't make mistakes.

Well, maybe it was a little payola, I don't know.

He's always taking care of his friends in Perth.

- Happens all the time. - Let's see, that's 35 times two...

And the meat at the front wasn't frozen because...

- Why? - Well, we were goin' so damn fast

that the cold air, being heavier, well, being more dense,

just, er...

wasn't circulating, that's all.

Hot air.

Yeah.

That's all.

Steep descent.

She's all downhill from here, Harry.

Come on, baby, we're gainin' on 'em.

Come on.

He's slowin' down again.

Ah, he's run outta gas. I knew it!

Oh, shit.

Hey, Lester!

Evening, Quid!

Looks like you got some heat tonight.

Bloody cops.

Who are they lookin' for anyway?

Ah, always lookin' for some poor bastard.

- Let's get you weighed. - Right.

You run out of gas?

Gas station right here. If you get around the back there...

We'll give you a push.

Take the wheel.

Hey, you are 75 kilos over!

- Really? - Mmm.

'Bout the weight of a hot TV set, eh?

How's the Book of Lies? All in order?

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Listen, Lester, I've got a kind of a priority urgent situation...

Say no more. I won't hold you up.

Hey, what are you carrying?

Meat!

Seems a bit more like marijuana to me, eh.

Bloody animal.

Not mine. I wouldn't have one, meself.

No, no, it's a new TRB thing. They've trained 'em to sniff out marijuana.

Ah.

Well, you got me. I confess.

Pat, you crazy bastard, he wouldn't know pot from pot roast.

Yeah.

Listen, Lester, I better get these piggies to market.

Oh, yeah. Here you go. I've got a fresh pot of coffee on and, you know...

Oh, thanks, Lester, that's real nice of ya,

but, er... I'll take a rain check, okay?

Oh, right, right.

On your way!

Hold it, Quid!

You got something wrapped around your axle!

What is it?

Ah! It's a bunch of wire and shit!

It's probably why you're 75 kilos over.

All right, Lester, just let it be. It'll be all right! Thanks, anyway!

I got some wire cutters in the office.

It'll only take a second...

No thanks, Les, I'll see ya later!

But you're gonna bugger up your trailer

- unless ya do something! - Yeah, thanks for the hand!

I was pullin' a road train out of Broken Hill once.

Got a length of chain wrapped round me diff.

Whole bloody thing got caught in a cattle grid.

Ripped the whole rear end off!

Sneaky bastard.

Christ, talk about the meat in a sandwich.

He wants us to follow him.

Okay...

What kinda game is this?

Bloody hell!

Get underneath, and see what's happenin' up there!

I got you now, you bastard.

Hey, hey, wait a minute!

Hey, wait a minute! Hey!

Hey, wait a minute, you got the wrong guy!

- I'm tellin' ya! - Stand back, please.

Keep this area clear. Stand back.

He rammed me off the road, he did.

That man, that man, he tried to push me off a cliff.

And he trapped me in a toilet. Same guy.

Wait a minute, will you, listen!

I promise you, it's that guy over there!

Don't let him get away!

It's that guy over there!

Jesus.

Hey, look, if you don't believe me, check the van, will ya?

Just check the van!

Is that your dog?

It's not a dog, he's a...

He barks!

It's that guy over there, I'm tellin' ya, it's him!

That's him!

Hitch!

I thought you said he was in the bathroom!

Where do you think you're going?

I thought you were dead.

Well, thanks a lot!

You know how long I've been in this stupid sleeping bag?

Well, I've had kind of a rough day myself, thanks!

Now, just a minute, which one of these two characters abducted you?

That one, you jerk!

Me and about 20 others!

But where are they?

Why don't you pick up a shovel and dig up the Nullarbor Plain?

You okay?

It's just when you pay a hundred dollars for a dingo,

you expect to get a dingo.

Jesus. $100,000 worth of damage.

I just can't believe you actually thought I slept with the guy.

- Well, where were you, then? - I told you. I don't know!

I had a sleeping bag over my head.

Well...

Thank Christ they were able to salvage the meat.

Now what?

I don't know.

Thinkin' 'bout headin' up north, see if I can get a job up there.

Okay.

You know, somethin' I forgot.

Forgot to tell the police.

That body that they never found,

I thought it was you hangin' in the back of the truck.

But, er...