Tag Archives: Yackandandah

Yackandandah Smackdown

You know you’ve had a good time when you wake up in a shopping trolley with an empty VB carton on your head and dried vomit on your shirt. It was Boxing Day, I was in the main street of Gosford with no idea how I got there, and from the looks on the faces of people passing me that bright Summer morning, I was a fucking mess – just the way I like it. I was trying to focus my bleary eyes on a young mother with big tits, when a very unusual man began strutting towards me. He had tight leather pants, a really cool jacket, and spiky hair. Bloody hell, it was my old mate Scotty!

They found me in the specials aisle at Aldi, between a three-pack of toilet seats and some weird Malaysian chocolates
This is also Scotty’s Tinder profile pic

“Hey arsehole, you look worse than sex slave I accidentally leave in car boot for one month,” Scotty sneared, before putting out his cigarette on an old lady’s arm.

“Bloody hell, Scotty, I thought you were in jail for drug dealing or murder or…”

“All of above. And kidnapping turtle.” Scotty plucked the hat off a passing child, spat a wad of bright green phlegm into it, and popped it back on the kiddy’s head. “No prison can contain me. I kill warden, steal he clothes, walk straight out front door. Then I go to warden’s house, fuck he wife, eat he dinner, take he son to football game. Turn out, I make great father.”

“Good to hear things are going alright for you Scotty, but I need to…”

“It lucky I see you, motherfucker,” Scotty interjected whilst scratching his balls. “You come with me to Victoria, I have job for you.”

“Mate, I’m kinda busy here with…”

“I no ask, I tell,” he snarled, waving around prison shiv. “Now get in car you fucking dickhead.”

With that, Scotty pushed me, my trolley and my empty box of Sovereign Point into his rape wagon, slammed the door, and the next thing I knew we were heading down the dusty Hume.

Australia’s drier than Caitlyn Jenner’s vadge at the moment
Yackandandah: nicer than Wyong

I wanted to stop at the Big Merino and the Dog on the Tucker Box, but Scotty refused because he’s no longer legally allowed to visit any of Australia’s famous roadside attractions. I dunno, something about sucking off the Big Prawn or something. Anyway, due to the bushfires we had a slow journey the ugly and dying outback, and ended up pulling into the rural village of Yackandandah for the night. It’s a delightful spot, and an oasis of green in sizzling country being destroyed by drought. The Yackandandah Holiday Park is quiet, leafy, and ringed by a gorgeous little creek. More importantly, it’s close to a really good pub, where me and my mischievous Mandarin-mouthing mate proceeded to get hammered beyond belief.

Not a bad spot to pitch a tent
Not a bad place to smash beers till you shit your pants

I was minding my own business over an icy cold schooner of Carlton Draught and Scotty was knocking back Cocksucking Cowboys, when a big bloke with no neck and a face uglier and hairier than Magda Szubanski’s sauntered over.

“Are you two a couple of pooftahs or something?” he sneered, whilst rubbing his nipples through his Geelong Cats singlet. “Yeah, you look like a couple of real pooftahs! I bet you like kissing each other right on the mouth. You bloody pooftahs! Both lookin’ at me like you wanna eat me for dessert. Probably wanna take turns sucking my dick. You’d be good at it, too. Couple of bloody pooftahs. I should let you both suck me off, just to prove what a couple of bloody pooftahs you are. Then I’ll fuckin’ smash youse both. Bloody pooftahs.”

Here’s my urine sample!
He’s probably a nice bloke when he’s not trying to kill people

The giant inbred barely had time to pull down his fly before Scotty lept up and smashed a schooner glass in his neck, sending a torrent of blood flying into the crisp night air. The hillbilly clutched at his neck, barely understanding what was going on, then screamed with what was left of his vocal chords. Scotty, covered from head to toe in blood, smiled maniacally, then knocked the deviant arse-first into a pot plant with a right fist.

“Don’t you know I no make sucky with white guy?” he smirked, then did a small celebratory dance. I slapped him a high five, then a shadow fell over us. I looked towards the door to see six of the toughest, roughest dickheads standing there, looking like we’d just walked dogshit through their living room. They peered from their mate’s crumpled body to me and Scotty. I grabbed my glass as a weapon, but mainly just prepared myself to have my nuts kicked off, as the thugs moved in. Scotty took a pair of nunchucks out of leather pants and waved them around out of desperation. We were fucked.

I closed my eyes tightly and waited for the pain, but it didn’t come. I peeked through my fingers to see something very strange indeed – the gang was parting like the Red Sea. Then, from the shadows, stepped a dashingly handsome man. Fuck me dead if it wasn’t Round-Eye Scotty, back from the dead!

Never ask Scotty to give you head
You don’t wanna know what Round-Eye did to the other six dwarfs

I thought you got raped to death in prison,” I stammered, and Round-Eye just giggled.

“Rumours of my prison rape-inflicted death have been greatly exaggerated,” he purred, and the gaggle of tough guys laughed enthusiastically. Round-Eye quietly told the boys to go inside, and they followed his instructions without hesitation. “Far from dying of massive rectal hemorrhaging, I prospered in prison. Became a king to these men… and to the Asian thug you are travelling with.”

Suddenly, the night was eerily silent. In the distance a kookaburra cackled, then was cut short. Asian Scotty stared at Round-Eye Scotty. Round-Eye Scotty stared at Asian Scotty. It was like watching a couple of pitbulls sizing each other up. Then, Asian Scotty fell to his knees, took his round-eyed rival’s hand, and kissed it.

“My king,” he gasped. “I sorry, I no know he with you. Please, I cut my balls off to show how sorry I am.”

“There’s no need for that,” sniffed Round-Eye. “I merely need you to take me to the Mornington Peninsula.”

“We make kill some dickhead? Maybe is for major drug run? Sex slavery?”

“No, something much wilder than that,” responded Round-Eye. “We shall go paragliding.”

And I’m not sure what happened after that because I found half a bottle of metho and got fuckin’ hammered. The local cops must used to that sort of thing, ‘cos there wasn’t an investigation or anything. Just other night in rural Victoria, I guess. But come back for the next blog post, when we finally get to the Mornington Peninsula, because it’ll be even wilder than this one. Which is saying something, ‘cos this one had a fuckin’ beheading in it!