A Crocadile Dundee Dreamtime Cuntree Adventure,
The Troofool Tale of the "Machine Gun Shags"
Well now,.......... Its starting to warm up just a fraction, and Spring is sort-ta arrived here in South Aussie, kinda like high summer in most of the "Gringo Country" (USA) ;-)
For some inexplicable reason, Ive had this yearning to tell a "Truefoolyee Tale" from me "Adventures in the Crocadile Dreamtime Cuntree", a coming back. So for your torture, my amusment and to give all "Gringo's some "Fair Dinkum Aussie Flack" here goes.
Mind you's, this tale is told absolutely truefool and accurate ( to the best of me re-remberees). Heh heh.
Back in ther days of me youth, me an Fankie and ther "Magnificant Grey
Ghost" decided one warm spring day; to go off on a truck-about and fishen trip, down on the floodplain, this was just before ther wet season started leaking on us twenty-four hours a day.
So we decided to go fishen fer Redfin. Now fer all you's gringoes who
live in the "Uoo; Sss of Aaay" and that liddle place called "Canada" up above all you's gringoes, Id better explain. Redfin is a predatory
fresh-water perch that is an introdooced speeeeecies here is Aussie. Its actually an "English Perch" or a Pommy fish.
Some mischevious, semi-deviate "Pommy" fella with his head up stuck up
his "you-know-what",well he decided to bring some "Redfin" out to the Great Southern Land (Aussie) and release them into our rivers. The rest is history. The ensuing enviromental destruction that this action resulted in is a bloody discrace. But…. "Redfin" are a dam good fish to eat. Anyways,I'm going off on a tangent here, better not loose the plot.
We packed up ther "tinny" with our fishen gear and a heap of tucker fer us and the dawg and hooks up ther tinny behind me F150 4wd (with ther 400hp Clevland engine) and we heads off "down the track" towards the creek and onwards out onta ther floodplain. But, on ther way, nature calls, I,m sure yer know how it is,....yer just gotta pee
Well I pulls over to the side of "the track", along side a real big River Redgum tree and while we all is doing the anointing of the
scrubbery, I notices some huge claw marks on the trunk of the tree, but I thinks nuthin more about it becos we is going fishen.
Now Refin are a super agro predatory fish and they are "canaballistic"
so iffen yer stick somethen on ther end of yer "Rod"; that has a
"RedEye", looks like a "Redfin" and dangle it over the side and bob it
up and down in ther water, yer will catch "Redfin" iffen there is any about to be caught.
Anyways, we gets to that there creek, checks about fer a bit, to make
sure there arnt no big Crocadiles. Saltwater crocs love eaten dawgs fer some reason, and I didn’t fancy me Magnificent Grey Ghost being taken by a big saltie.
So we has found a suitable spot after a bit of a dash down the creek in the "tinny" with the Magnificent Grey Chost standing up on the prow of the "tinny" with his ears and gums flappen in tha wind and looken like a real "bowhead" up the front of our tinny which really scoots along with ther 25hp outboard motor. ( That knee-high to a grasshopper, pint size Pommy Lioness called Nelly 136, could probably water-ski behind the tinny).
We pulls up, checks about fer crocs, gets our "rods" out over the side
and is bobbing our "Redeye" lures up an down in tha water but like, nuthin is happening. So after a bit more of nuthin happenen, I hauls out me secret, super weapon just fer such times. It’s a miserable
stinking fish berly that Ive got made up in a plastic garbage bag.
So after berlying the water fer a bit with that infamous fish berly we gets into a school of "Redfin" and all hell breaksloose. I tell yer's all true-fool-yee, there aint nothen like getting yer "Redeye" amongst a good school of reddies, a fella can get his "redeye" crunched and his "Rod" snapped iffen he is not dam careful.
So, we is right into it and like; we have got a real crazy run on. We
got fish flappen about it the bottom of ther "tinny" everywhere and the Magnificent Grey Ghost watchen all calm like. Then suddenly he gets up,starts quivering and gets into his "point". Well iffen yer know a bit about gundawgs, the "point" is an indicator of real serious business ahead and its never to be ignored by human beans.
So I looks up real quick like and to me and Frankies horror, around the corner of ther creek comes a bloody great flock of "Shags" all swimmen along in fishen formation and there was this huuuu-mongous shag up front. I tell no lie (too the best of me re-memberees), that huuu-mongus muther was the size of a big Wedge Tailed Eagle and he was headen, straight fer us and our fishen spot with a real mean glint in his eye.
Well, that was the end of ther fishen run cos there aint nuthin a Redfin fears more than getting "shagged" . The reddies dissapeared pronto like and the squadron of "Shags" wus bearing down on us in tha tinny. That big mutha shag up front just paddled straight up to our tinny and peered over the side and he spots our catch of "pommy perch" flappen about in the bottom of the tinny. That huuu-mongus mutha let out a squark that rolled over the floodplain like a thunder-clap and then he attacked.
Well, I tell yers, a hell of a scrap broke out. Me and Frankie was
waven our rods about in the air trying to beat off the bloody shags and ther Magnificant Grey Ghost wus snappen at shags left right and centre.
So after a ferocious battle the "shag squadron" retreated for a bit and us Magnificent Aussie Hunters cracked open a coupla cold VB's outa
ther esky and celebrated our combat success.
We was celebrating and then suddenly, ther Magnificent Grey Ghost pricks up his ears and then he starts shaken and dives down in tha bottem of ther tinny and claws out the life jackets under the bow cover and dives in there pullen life-jackets in behind him fer cover. Uhoh,....... uhoh, me thinks............."Oooh-shit".
Then I hears a heap of great mutha squarking and looks up and to me
terror there is 200 or maybe 300 shags flying flat out just above the
water in attack formation, led by ther humongus-mean-muther-shag coming straight at us.
Well at about 30 yards away the ariel straifing and bombardment started. We was treated to rapid fire "machine-gun-shag-shit". The stuff tracered across the water just like machine gun fire in ther movies. We wus unmercifully straifed from arse-hole to breafast with sloppy concentrated digested fishy crapp.
I tell yers, Ive heard about a liddle native American critter called a
skunk and I reckon a "skunk-pee" woudnt have nothen on a "shag shit"
So, the shags passed and then those mean muthers wheeled in formation
and returned fer a second bombing run at-tus. Course by this time, Me and Franki was feeling a bit just a wee bit "crappy" so we scrambled and dived fer cover under the nose cover of ther tinny and the bloody
"Magnificent Grey Ghost" turned up his nose at us and held his breath.
I tell yers true-fool-yee; the sound of "shag shit" rapid fire straifing across the creek and beating a drum roll on the sides of the tinny was a truly terrifing sound. Yer worst nightmare come true.
So after a bit, the sounds of them there fighter shags kinda faded and
me and Frankie emerged with purple faces from holding our breath. Then I hears a faint scream and looks up towards ther sun. I could see a tiny black dot that’s getten larger and the scream was getten louder.
"Bloody hell" I said to Frankie, "Bloody hell"!
The humongus mean muther shag was doin a dive bombing run straight outa tha sun, coming straight down at us. Well, no shag wus gunna get ther better of me I can tell yers ;-) hahhahahahahahhahahahahah.
Quick as a flash I grabbed the plastic berly (gravy and dumplings) bag
and turned it inside out and slipped it over me fly-scaring hat and
crawled out. I stood up and faced that mutha. .............Big mistake! big , big, big mistake.
Well I aint saying what happened after that! Nooo way!
So after much swimmen, shaving of me head and chest and unmentionable regions, plus burning of me clothes that I was wearen, we packed up ther tinny behind the F150 4wd (with the 400hp clevland engine) and headed fer home.
The Magnificent Grey Ghost deserted us, he refused to ride in the cabin of me pick-up truck with me and Frankie. He crawled in under the bed cover in the back. For some reason he kept wrinkling up his nose when he got near us.
On the way home, back "down the track" a bit, nature kinda got the better of us again so I pulls over to the side of "the track", along side the real big River Redgum tree, t'was the same big one I noticed while we all is doing the "anointing" of the scrubbery on the way "up the track", and I notices the huge claw marks on the trunk of the tree agen, but I thinks nuthing more about it cos we is going home.
Well, me and Frankie jumps back into the truck and pulls back onta "the track" and we passes under an overhanging branch of that big tree.
All of a sudden there is this bloody humongus loud bang on the roof of "Henry" (thats me truck ) and these huge claw marks start appearing in the roof over our heads.
It was a huuuuuuuuumongus, monster black feral cat, (bigger than a Cali Country Puma) that bugger was a real mean mutha and he was trying to rip through the roof of the cab and get at us. I guess it must have been the way we still smelt after the dive bomber shag attack.
And you may ask how did I know that he was a he; well I could tell he was "a he" cause of what was hanging over the back of the cab of Henry, down on the rear window. ;-)
Well we is in "deep shit" iffen ya know what I mean.
So I whistles up tha Magnificent Grey Ghost, and he sticks his head out from under the pickup bed cover. Well, he aint afraid of no pussy, (takes after me ;-) and he spots whats hanging down over the rear window of Henry. The huntendawg in him rises to the ocassion and he lunges forward with bared fangs and grabs that black feral by the balls and he rears backward and yer have never seen such a painful sight in yer life.
(ooohhhhh! it positively makes me cringe thinken about it )
The Grey Ghost then let fly and that big black feral flew off over the
bonnet of Henry at a zillion miles per hour and wus last seen and heard dissapearing over the horizion on two legs, yeowling its head off.
Course the Magnificent Grey Ghost was the hero of this true tale and he was offered the centre seat in the pickup cab but he declined to ride with me and Frankie. He climbed back under the bedcover in the back of Henry for the rest of the drive back "down the track".
We kinda sneaked into town in the wee small hours and for some reason all the alley cats in town came out and followed us down the street sniffen the air. I spose it had somthen to do with the fishen smell.
Gee's I tell yers all truefoolyeah, by the time I finished scrubben meself with abraisive pumice stone and and that expensive aftershave/ toilet water stuff, I crawled into bed totally shagged. ;-)
Catcha's down tha track
Michael (The Magnificant Aussie ManHunter)