The Gilligan Factor - Part Three.

The Bogan kids are leading Mower, Lizzie, Luke and Winnie Quark deep into the underground world of Coochiemudlo Island.

Federal Labor MP Bart Rugarse has captured Mayor Porker at gunpoint. Mayor Porker has no idea what has happened to Sean Bean, Shidehawk and Axeman after they fell into a dark shaft.

Chinese gunmen wearing military battle dress and Kevlar coolie hats have surrounded Ann Appuladay and her group.

Goodness me, this is jolly exciting isn’t it?

Read on.


ANN APPULADAY’S GROUP.

Ann Appuladay: Everybody stay perfectly still. Let me do the talking.

(Ann turns to the soldier with the most colours on his shoulder tags and speaks to him.)

Ann Appuladay: Hachow ning puyong ping yan taow hengting paow chang?

Grimy: I didn’t know you spoke Chinese.

Ann Appuladay: I don’t. I’m just making it up as I go along but the Chinese have such a tight hold on the Internet I don’t think anyone there will ever read this blog - so who’s going to know?

(Her words have an immediate effect. The Chinese soldiers relax and lower their weapons. The officer laughs and slaps Ann on the back before waving his men back into the tunnel. As the last of the troops step into the dark opening Ann shouts a cheery farewell.)

Ann Appuladay: Ha chin pyong ta!

(There are angry yells from the tunnel followed by a burst of automatic fire that stitches across the beach toward Ann and her group. They throw themselves to the ground and begin wriggling frantically toward cover on the far side of the sandbar. No sooner are they safely behind the sandbar when automatic fire opens up from the opposite direction. The SAS patrol boat is surging across the bay toward them and the black rubber bow is ablaze with the muzzle flashes of M4 machine guns.)

Ann Appuladay: Jesus! Run for the trees, now! Keep low and jink like fuck! Move!

Fondleschaft: Vass ist jink? Vass ist da fuck - jink?

(Ann and the others are at the tree line when the SAS patrol boat beaches. Garth Cutler leaps into the meagre surf and orders his men to remain with the boat on the grounds that the unarmed group will be no match for a professional and he needs the exercise. Cutler pounds up the beach and into the trees.)

Garth Cutler: Come along, little lady and gents. I won’t hurt you much but we can’t have you interfering with our dear slitty-eyed cousins can we? That is not part of the exercise. Why on earth you didn’t stay at the jetty and await instructions will mystify me for the rest of my life. Now, come along – show yourselves so I can rough you up a little bit, break some very minor bones and pop you all safely into the boat.

(As he speaks, Cutler creeps deeper into the woods watching intently for the an unnatural flicker of a leaf. Shizeknicker, Fondleschaft and Grimy are hidden behind the rusting remnants of a 1973 Holden Praline but Ann Appuladay has squeezed her tiny frame into a shallow drainage trench that cuts across the path from the beach. When Cutler reaches the trench he carefully steps over it and Ann Appuladay, hidden from view by Cutler’s mat black rubber duckie, strikes!

She bursts up from the trench in a blur of sand and bracken. Cutler has no time to move before he feels his balls crushed in the steel teeth of a bear trap. Ann is no bear and her teeth are not steel but it is all the same to Cutler as his tiny adversary hangs on with pit bull determination. Cutler’s weapon drops from nerveless fingers and he freezes, his legs and mouth agape. A silent scream waits in his throat for the white-hot searing agony that flares through his groin to reach some peak that Cutler can attempt to endure. If there is a peak Ann’s grinding teeth sends it higher and ever higher until Cutler is forced back onto a last resort in the SAS hand-to-hand combat manual.

Cutler has been trained to faint when an opponent threatens to overpower him. It is hoped the opponent will then drop his guard enough for the upper hand to be regained. Like a true SAS professional, Cutler is able to think through the moves despite the overwhelming pain.

ONE – Raise back of hand (officers: for the saluting of) to the head (ears: for the spacing of).
TWO – Say loudly “Lawks, luv a duck Guv. I think I’m going to swoon” (opponent: for the fooling of).
THREE – Fall to the ground (fainting: for the pretending of).
FOUR – When opponent relaxes (breath: for the catching of).
FIVE - Kill (arsehole: for the finishing of).

Unfortunately for Cutler when it comes to actually doing it, somewhere between THREE and FOUR when he falls to the ground, he comes into contact with a large wedge shaped rock, for the striking at the back of the neck and the snapping of.)

Grimy: Bloody hells bells, Ann, the bugger’s dead. You were fantastic but I had to feel sorry for the brute.

Shizeknicker: Yah, dat must haff been excrutable. I, myself, haff retractable balls vich ist most useful in dat situation.

Fondleschaft: How he must haff suffered. You haff retractable balls? I haff an ingrowing toenail.

Ann Appuladay: What about me you arseholes? I’ve spent the last five minutes with his balls in my mouth!

Grimy: Sorry Ann, it’s a man thing. We were over there cringing and empathising while you did the dirty work.

Ann Appuladay: Dirty work is right. I could do with a good suck on a dog turd – anything to get the taste of blood, piss and sweaty knackers out of my mouth. Yeuk!

(This sends her three companions off into further paroxysms of whimpering, cringing and cuddling of the groin. After a few minutes of this they check the body for weapons and are rewarded with an M4, two Parsac machine pistols, a Desert Storm automatic, six killing knives, a dozen Rambo44 grenades and a crochet hook. There is also enough ammunition, food and water to supply a small war for a fortnight. In the mean time Grimy has been watching the SAS patrol boat that has been keeping station ten metres off shore.)

Grimy: Those buggers must be scared to death of Cutler. They haven’t moved until now but something’s up with them at the moment. They’re all looking over the side and shouting.

(Without warning the water seems to boil around the rubber dinghy and four sets of huge clamps not unlike a giant lobster’s legs rise out of the surf on each side of the boat and close on it - trapping the occupants. For a moment a grey bulk can be seen in the sea below them before the trapped SAS patrol is drawn back and then under the water. The sea continues to foam and spout as though violence is being done beneath the surface, then all is still. For some time the group on the beach can only stare in disbelief and then, one after the other, the SAS rubber duckies pop to the surface. They still support the men but now they are upside down and six sets of legs point at the sky and bob gently in the swell.)

Ann Appuladay: What the hell was that?

Grimy: I haven’t seen anything like that in my life. Are those guys dead, do you think? Should we try to help them?

(Several dark shapes cut the surface and there is a violent commotion beneath one of the SAS men. His legs thrash then slowly sink as the rubber duckie turns over exposing a torso missing a head. Soon the sea around the bobbing group is a foaming turmoil of teeth and blood. The chumming has worked a treat.)

Ann Appuladay: No, Grimy, I don’t think we’ll help them just at the moment.

Fondleschaft: I am thinking and wondering vot hass happen to da Chinese peoples. Ve should be sneaky.

Ann Appuladay: Yes, Gerhardt, I’ve been trying to watch that direction too. They don’t seem to be around anymore but I’d better check. Arnel, you take the M4 and a few grenades. Gerhardt and Grimy, take a machine pistol and grenades each. I’ll take the automatic. Try not to shoot yourselves, stay here and keep down. I’ll check out that tunnel near the dock. If I’m not back in ten minutes head south and try to link up with Porky or Mower. Got that?

Grimy: You’re the boss Ann.

(Ann Appuladay pushes slowly through the scrub. She takes great care where she puts her feet using all the wiles gained by sneaking up on her nephews who always try to ambush their tiny Aunt every weekend. When she gets closer to the beach she drops to the ground and crawls silently toward the artificial dock. There is a patch of Carda Grass but no tunnel and no Chinese soldiers. It is as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened at all. Ann turns and crawls back into the scrub before standing and making her way back to the rendezvous point. When she gets there she can see no sign of her group.)

Ann Appuladay: Oh well done you guys. Nicely done but you can come out now. Grimy! Arnel? Gerhardt? Come on and stop stuffing around.

(She searches the whole area but there is no sign of the three. She can only conclude that someone or something has spooked them and they have made a bolt south as she had told them to. After one more look around Ann also faces south and moves off, picking her way carefully through the dense undergrowth. She has gone only a few metres when she is grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. A hand is clamped over her mouth and a hoarse voice speaks into her ear.)

Mystery Voice: Stay down - don’t make a sound. I’m doing my best to get you and your friends out of here but you have to trust me. If I take my hand away promise you won’t start yelling. The Chinese are very close - much closer than you think.

(Ann nods slowly but makes up her mind that if this is another SAS clown she will bite his nuts clean off. The hand is removed and the owner of the hand begins crawling away after warning Ann to stay close to him. They scrabble along for more than twenty minutes through mud and sand and razer edged rock. While they are moving Ann decides that this is not her rescuers usual sort of behaviour. He is awkward, clumsy even, and not particularly quiet, definitely not SAS then. He doesn’t seem to be the extreme athletic type and it also strikes Ann that there is something disconcertingly familiar about him. At last the man seems satisfied that they are out of danger and he slumps wearily against the trunk of a tree where Ann can get a good look at him for the first time. His trade mark perfect hair is awry and his moonlike face is smeared with mud. One lens of his glasses has popped out at some point and his suit will need more than a dry-clean to get the man looking his usual immaculate self. For all that he is instantly recognisable.)

Ann Appuladay: Thank you for your help Prime Minister.

Kevin Rudd: You’re most welcome but I must say there was nothing about this in my diary for today.


TO BE CONTINUED.