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The Quiclys (standard:humor, 26212 words)
Author: laughalotAdded: Aug 31 2002Views/Reads: 3467/3530Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Adventures of a less than average seven child family in Australia
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


They shuffled, since Nickov was right behind Mortis who shuffled (don't
they all?) down a short gloomy hall reeking of formaldahyde and 
flowers,(actually no-frills floral spray) into a larger room filled 
with various caskets on display.This led into a freezing and 
proportionately gloomier room lined with rubber sealed doors."Q, q" 
muttered Mortis trundling out a giant draw containing one departed 
'Quickly' stiff, or one quickly departed stiff in any case. Pissov had 
died after a plugged in radio fell in the toilet while he was taking a 
leak. 

"I shall leave you a moment to pay your respects" said mortis wandering
off. Now alone Nickov uncovered the face of dear old Dad, heaved 
violenty and shut the draw. Someone would miss him thought Nickov, 
especially the Director of Shady Days. Presently after a respectful 
interlude , about 6 minutes (it was "express" afterall) Mortis 
returned. They shuffled off to a small dingy office. 

"Now Mr Quickly how much..er..what exactly did you have in mind for the
comfort of your late father in the great beyond?". Mortis 
surreptitiuosly slid an album across the table. 

"Comfort?" said Nickov, He's dead, well, how much is this one?" asked
indicating a gleeming silver casket , silk padded with angel 'hood 
ornament'. 

"ONLY $16,000" said Mortis a little too eagerly, "Its one of one
newest..." 

"WHAT?" said Nickov , eyes bulging, "For 16 grand I'd want power
steering central locking, airbags and 100,000k warranty!" 

Mortis's face fell but instantly recomposed itself into a suitable
semblance of concern and understanding. 

"Of course Mr Quickly I understand, perhaps one of our more...affordable
models in this time of grief er etc etc.." finished Mortis quickly 
whipping out a small brown book. Nickov opened the book about the 
middle and pointed to the plain rosewood casket therein. 

"$4000" said Mortis hopefully. 

"Well.er.actually" said Nickov lamely. 

Mortis deftly flicked to the last page displaying 'The' low cost model,
which would be described by a bluntly honest person as a 2x5ft orange 
crate hastilly hammered together with 'Biddle mountain oranges' stamped 
on the side. 

"Of course it comes with our low cost delux padding at no extra cost"
said Mortis. 

"Sawdust?" asked Nickov. 

"Several buckets" said Mortis under his hand. 

"How much" asked Nickov. 

"$250" said Mortis. 

"Done" said Nickov. 

"Now about the service Mr Quickly 

"Low cost delux?" asked Nickov hopefully. 

"$50, includes a 5 min eulogy by the grave digger wearing a preists
coller, the plot and death duties" said Mortis. 

"Great, that it?" asked Nickov looking at his watch. 

"There is the matter of presentation.." 

Nickov raised an enquiring eyebrow. 

"What shall we dress him in?" said Mortis. 

"Whats he got on?" asked Nickov. 

"A straightjacket with a shady days logo" said Mortis straight faced,
"Of course removal would require certain ..er..cosmetic alterations" 
said Mortis. 

"Like?". 

"Lopping his arms off actually Im afraid". 

"Well leave 'im in it then right". 

"Right and finally, a closed casket ceremony?" asked Mortis. "Well, said
Nickov without a trace of sarcasm, considering his face is navy blue, 
his eyes are open, crossed and bulging and he is wearing a Shady Days 
straightjacket , it's probably a good idea". 

"Of course of course remonstrated the kindly Mortis, we did the best we
could given, but under the circumstances"...he trailed off. "But we 
thought the blue eyeshadow blended well, Don't concern yourself Sir 
we'll take care of it all" said Mortis cheerily, now it was done. 
Nickov got up to leave. 

"Ahem" said Mortis discreetly, rubbing his fingers together. 

"Oh yeah" said Nickov paying up the $300 (nearly a whole dole cheque.) 

So at 11.45 on 5th apr there sat Nickov his wife Gladys and little
Quicklys 1-6 in the front row of the church. A few sprigs of this and 
that adorned the 'coffin' compliments of the landscaping around the 
local social security, and the words 'Biddle mountain oranges' had been 
tactfully obscured with several 'Ex-Mortis Express' stickers. Somewhere 
at the back of the otherwise empty church, sat Mr Ratborn Lowe, 
Director of Shady Days, sobbing into a hanky and occasionally 
consulting a calculator.The 'preist' came through a side door fishing a 
collar from his grubby overalls on his way to the altar where after 
pushing a button, tinny mournful music wafted from a pair of sanyo 
speakers on the wall. 

"Freinds and loved ones we are gathered here today to fairwell the late
Mr Pissov Quickly who was well known in the commnunity (lifetime member 
of d.s.s., the t.a.b, the local pub and 4year guest of shady days) well 
respected by his peers(mostly other dole recipients, to who he was a 
ledgend) has sadly kick..er..shuffled off his mortal coil .R.I.P." 

Then the priest shut off the sanyo, whipped off the collar, hastily
guenuflecting 

"Now let us carry him to the place of rest." The 'coffin' was wheeled
across the church leaving a fine trail of low-cost delux padding 
leaking from a knothole in the wood. With the 'coffin' in the hearse, 
it was off to Stiffgrove's Potters Feild. The hearse driver Mortis, 
drove in a manner befitting Ex-Mortis, i.e. 'express' and Pissovs box 
could be seen sliding from starboard to port at each turn and a cloud 
of delux padding billowed from the back window. 

Nickov, Gladys and little Quicklys 1-4 following behind, dry eyed but
anxiously keeping an eye on the taxi meter, were followed by Quicklys 
4-6 in the car of Ratborn Lowe, Shady Days Director, who was still 
punching calculator keys here and there and sadly shaking his head. At 
the gates of Potters Feild, still with rusting council landfill sign 
attached, they slowed to a respectful (to shock absorbers) speed, up 
the rutted dirt road, dotted here and there with the odd bit of 
something rusted, a few tyres and occasional bit of weathered garbage 
bag protruding from the ground, they went. 

The grave was tastefully surrounded by fake turf,(thrown out just 6 mths
ago by the now refurbished bowling club). The digger, now wearing the 
collar again, and Mortis grunting and heaving, manhandled the 'coffin' 
onto the lowering device and the Eulogy began. 

"Dearly beloved" (which now included a solemn greek cabbie eating an
orange), "we now erm..lay him to rest". Looking over at Nickov and 
Gladys who shook their heads, then to Mr shady days who did likewise 
and finally to the cabbie who just shrugged. "Er...ashes to ashes , 
dust to dust..um...where the old boys gone we one day must Amen". 

Mortis bent and deftly thumbed the button on the lowering device and
after a few fits and starts and an inconspicuous kick or two the 
'coffin ' began to lower. Each little quickly contributed something to 
the grave, a few wild dandelines, a half sucked chuppa chup, a smarties 
box, an orange peel (reverently supplied by the cabbie), Pissovs 
pensioner card, a Shady Days brochure etc. With a final 'clunk' that 
made even Mortis wince, the 'coffin' came to rest. The preist checked 
his watch and began. 

"Yeah though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death I will
fear no evil (another glance at his watch) etc etc ..Rest in peace". 

"Amen" said Nickov and Gladys. 

"Amen" said the cabbie, wiping his hands on his pants and heading back
to his cab. 

"Bla$t" said Mr shady days under his breath. 

"I want me smarties, I dropped 'em" said a little Quickly. 

At the gates of the cemetry, Mortis and co beat an Express retreat to
the left, While the cabbie, peeling another orange, and his charges, 
along with Mr Shady Days and his, turned right, back towards the 
Quickly residence. Mr Ratborn Lowe managed to acquire a few new 
residents among the more senior Quicklys at the wake and left still 
consulting his calculator. Dimitri the cabbie made such a good fare he 
went home for the day, and for the Quicklys life returned to normal or 
as close to normal as their lives ever got anyway. About a month later 
the will was executed and Gladys and Nickov were bequeathed an obscure 
tome of Russian poetry, all in cryllic. It lasted about a week, on the 
back of the outhouse door. 

R.I.P Pissov Quickly 

The Dogs Of War 

0.900 hours: There was no warning, the van doors went unheard. The clip
clop of a pair of garish too high ,high heels and the twin high pitched 
yap of two demented small dogs which suddenly drowned it out however, 
did not. 

By this time the Devil was at the door, so to speak. The Devil in
question was of course Mrs Loudly Dunn, the mother in law from hell. 
Her constant companions known secretly to all the Quickly's as Hitler 
and Stalin, were two white four pound , four legged, fluff balls full 
of teeth and yap and a demented hatred of anything or anyone that was 
not Loudly Dunn. 

Troll Loudly as she was known to Nickov, was let in by Gladys, she
marched directly into the lounge room where Nickov was lounging, with 
Hitler and Stalin yapping all the way. 

"There you are lazing again" roared the troll. (she always roared, even
when she was whispering) "Why dont you get out and get a job and look 
after my Gladys and these kids" etc etc. After about ten minutes when 
she stopped for a breath, Nickov said "Sorry dear, what did you say?" 
Troll Loudly went purple with rage and threatened a heart attack, so 
Gladys dragged her off for a cuppa. "Good on ya Dad" said Jnr quickly 
no.1 who popped up from behind the lounge where he'd been hiding with 
his hands over his ears. 

The reason for Troll Loudlys visit was because she was going on a three
day cruise with her bingo buddies from the local troll club and her 
poochie woochies weren't permitted. Gladys, always somewhat cowed by 
her mother, had of course agreed to look after them. Nickov was 
horrified but having no choice was sent out to the troll-o-van to 
collect their things. 

From the van came bowls and bibs, toys and chocolate for dogs, the
latter of which were devoured by the little Quicklys just as soon as 
Troll Loudley was gone. There were coats, curling wands, cans of 
hairspray, talc, baskets, rugs, ribbons and whatever the hell else 
demented pooches owned by demented old ladies seem to need. 

Along with all this came a full thirty minute lecture on their special
needs before she was ready to piss off. 

Soon after she did piss off Hitler and Stalin ran wild, directly to the
master bedroom were they occupied the bed militia style. Their inital 
'show of arms' was painfully impressive. On the way to the master 
bedroom they tallied the following offences.. three nipped Quickly 
littles, one whiplashed Gladys (fell down the stairs after slipping in 
a pooch mine), two severly lacerated ankles (Nickovs), and one wet 
bunny slipper. 

Nickov resolved to put them in the shed for the duration of the stay. He
was navigating the hall when there came a comically pathetic scream, 
followed by the steady ratcheting sound of a head tattooing it's way 
down fifteen stairs. 

Two crap smeared slippers sticking up in the air attached to a prostrate
Gladys, met him at the bottom of the stair case. Nickov, generally 
placid, was at this point not amused and his compassion-a-stat begain 
to free fall. A loose ribbon could be seen just inside the bedroom 
doorway. 

Nickov was half way down the hall when he was met with twin throaty
snarls which rose in pitch and intensity in direct relation to his 
proximity to the door. Hitler and Stalin were on his side of the bed. 
He got 3 steps into the room before his brain , still reeling from his 
traumatic encounter with the troll, (any encounter with the troll was 
traumatic) caught up and registered what he was seeing. 

The dogs were ready for instant mine manufacture, right there on his
fucking bed! They were going to bomb the hostages (i.e.his pillows) if 
any attempt was made to reclaim territory. Nickov backed off a step. 
They relaxed a bit. He backed off another step and they relaxed a bit 
more. He took a step forward and they tensed up, so he reteated to the 
hall to consider his options. 

Deciding to test his enemys resolve, he casually stuck a leg through the
door. The wiley enemy changed tactics emitting two perfectly 
co-ordinated streams of agent-piss. 

Agent piss , haveing a half-life approx 30,000 times the life of your
average pillow, Nickov considered this a serious breach of the Quickly 
convention. At 9.45 am war was declared!. 

9.55 am: Armed with a thawed and juicy minute steak General N.Quickly
heads to the front line. Tying the steak to some fishing line and 
calling on private Quickly aged 6 to set up an ambush on the other side 
of the door, the Genral hoped to lure the enemy out of the room, at 
which point Private Quickly would slam the door so they couldn't get 
back in. 

So the steak was launched, landing infront of the door. Response -nil.
The steak was artfully jiggled across the floor but the enemy stood 
firm. This was because the bastards were fed only the best steak on a 
daily basis and thus they were not bothered. Time for plan b. 

****************************************** Meanwhile, the little horrors
were digging in. Having run around in circles fluffing up the doona, as 
all ridiculously pampered pooches do, they now curled up comfy on the 
agent-pissed pillows. 

Had such option been available he might have darted the little bastards
and shipped them off to korea for consumption. He settled on seconol. 

10.20am offensive 2: Leaning on his haunches, back flat against the wall
outside the door, he removes from his pocket 2 Nickov-to-pooch choc 
sleep grenades. (stale cadbury chocs, each with spiked with a 500mg 
seconol centre) He paints a choc line under each eye and he's ready to 
go over the top!. 

General Quickly pulls an imaginary pin from the first grenade, jumps
around the doorway, and with a terrible war cry (stubbed his toe on the 
door jam) launches the grenade. It lands on the bed with a soft thud. 
The enemy sniffs, drools and then eats it. Woohoo! its a success, he 
lobs in the other one. 

Unexpected complications arise however when the same pooch eats the
second one. 

Doh! offensive 2 is a failure. (particularly if there are enemy
fatalities) This becomes known ever after in quickly lore, as the 
battle of cadbury. Nickov wondered how much seconol would be fatal to a 
4 pound pooch. Should Troll Loudly apon her return , discover a 
slightly deceased poochies, she would 'sing-like-a boid' to the s.p.c.a 
(after clubbing him senseless with whatever came to hand). 

10.30am : General Quickly now harboured serious concern for the war,
particularly since realising that he had just turned his back on the 
enemy and now couldn't tell one identical pooch from the other. 

"Hello, Stiffgrove Vet Hospital, how can I help you?". 

"How fast can you stomach pump two four pound poodles?" asked Nickov. 

10.40am: With time running short, general quickly marshals his forces
for the third offensive. Rounding up 3 Quickly littles they marched on 
the front line bearing a large nylon fishing net, two delux 
porta-kennels, a broom and a one eyed Bannana-in-pyjamas. 

Quickly , Private, aged 6, recaptured and pending court-marshall after
going awol during the second offensive, would hold the porta-pooch at 
the ready. Himself would capture one of the dogs, whilst Quickly, 
Private age 5 would fend off the other with the broom. Quickly, col., 
aged 4 would standby to launch the Bannana and run if the occasion 
arose. 

****************************************** 

The platoon marched on enemy lines. The enemy goes ballistic!. Snapping
and snarling they race around in circles, launch pre-emptive strikes of 
agent piss then bomb the enclave. Gladys's pillows become fatality 
statistics then they shred the doona in a feathery mushroom cloud!. 

General Quickly nets the first pooch but finds himself at a mexican
standoff. He can,t transfer the pow to the porta pooch because it goes 
'le-cujo' (its french for rabid!) and chews off the top of his thumb. 
The clock is ticking away so general quickly requisitions Colonel 
Quicklys Bannana and shoves it at the netted pooch. 

The pow promtly bites it, at which point the Genral pushes it down its
throat and with the other hand hurls the pow Bannana and all into the 
porta pooch. So far so good. A Soldier is sent for B2 to be used as a 
second 'le-cujo' gag and the process repeated. Offensive three is a 
success. Off to stiffgrove vet. 

A strangly gleeful looking Mr Herringbone met them at the door of the
clinic. Having been Troll Loudlys vet for some years he was more than 
well aquainted with Hitler and Stalin. " Right then whack 'em on the 
table" said Herringbone, I've been wanting a go at these horrors for 
years". 

Whipping out a whopping great syringe from his coat pocket with a David
Copperfeild like slight of hand , he jabs the first pow through the 
cage and deftly relieves it of its senses. With a smile and a flourish 
he deals with the second in a like wise manner. 

Herringbone lays out the two unconsious pooches on a stainless steel
table (under op lights for dramatic effect). "Be seated if you will" he 
says , indicating a circle of chairs he has setup. He rolls over what 
looks like a industrial vacume cleaner and rubbing his hands together, 
sets to work. 

After many oohs and ahhs and a few gagging noises he has removed the
dogs last meals along with the seconol and some well masticated bannana 
bits. With a round of cheers and a greatful bow or two the job was 
done. 

Dear old Herringbone refused payment saying he hadn't had so much fun in
years, and anyway he reckoned Nickov would be needing some new linen. 
So with two limp pathetic pooches back in custody, the party Quickly 
went on its way. 

They did buy new linen and a new B1 and B2 to replace those who lost
their lives in battle. Hitler and Stalin regained their senses but were 
never much of a problem after that, thanks to a little tasteless 
odourless gift from Herringbone. 

The Troll was some what suspicious when she returned 3 days later to
find two quiet and placid pooches but little tongues were held and all 
was well. Thats how the battle of cadbury was won. 

Get Rich Quickly 

This chapter begins with the birth of little Quickly no.7, on the third
floor of Mchospital, built two years after the unfortunate demise of 
Grandad Pissov Quickly and ironically ontop of the site (once a 
landfill) known as Potters Field Cemetry, where dear old Grandad was 
planted. 

It was taken over by some Corp associated with Mcdonalds. Nobody cared
to vote against the idea, with the exception of the Director of 
Ex-Mortis Express, who was forced to find another Potters Field. 
Fortunatly there was a disused amunition dump on the outskirts of 
Stiffgrove and a long cheap lease was secured. So Mchospital was built. 
Down the third floor corridoor behind twin doors sporting a life-size 
portrait of the world famous magical clown, was Gladys Quickly in 
MCdelivery suit#2, red faced, legs in stirrups being given gas and 
asked if shed like "Fries with that?". 

"NO" said Gladys. 

"How about a tray liner to color whilst you wait?...your not quite
ready". 

"I wanna sundae" came a small voice from under the bed. 

By 11am being fully Mcdialated and ready to give birth, In Quickly,
Gladys's unmentioned sister (none of the clan was ever too keen to 
mention her) and the 6 kids were ushered down to playland whilst no.7 
was coaxed, cajoled, manipulated and finally Mcvac extracted into the 
world. 

It's a boy! A rather pre-pubescent looking nurse with a tag that said
"Hi I'm Jane", handed Nickov a congratulatry balloon with the 
Hamburgular on it and went to work on Gladys, Mcstitching. 

With no.7 settled in Mcnurseryland, Nickov wheels Gladys downstairs to
see IN and the kids, in... .MCdonalds of course. With the kids 
slurping, munching and frisbeeing pickles to their delight at another 
table and In coloring a tray liner, Nickov and Gladys ordered coffee 
and sat down to discuss monicas. (not the Lewinski kind -ed) 

Troll Loudly, Gladys's mother, was not 'exactly' present, due to an
unfortunate accident a week earlier. Whilst out walking Hitler and 
Stalin, her two demented poodles (tormenting the general public) They 
were suddenly distracted by another small dog passing with it's similar 
owner in the opposite direction, unfortunatly on the other side of a 4 
lane main road. 

Straining on their leads with all of their combined eight pound might,
poor old Troll Loudly, who naturually was wearing a pair of 
ridiculously high and garish gold lame shoes, was toppled out into the 
road way in front of a swiftly moving taxi. 

The driver by some 'Murphyish' co-incidence, was Dimitry Popadopolis,
who drove the clan to the sad affair of Pissov's funeral 2 yrs ago. 
Incidently he was steering with his knees whilst peeling an orange at 
the time. 

Thus pre-occupied he stopped only after hurling the unlucky Troll Loudly
several feet in the air. Now trolling very loudly indeed, lying 
prostrate with most of her considerable bulk beneath Dimitry's cab, was 
quite unable to move at all. 

Wedged as she was she was then forced to watch in abject horror as her
poochie woochies were neatly picked up between the tandem wheel's of a 
passing big rig in the adjacent lane, and with their little pink 
dimante studded lead's going round and round with the wheel's, were 
carried away up Queen Anne Drive (and half way to Dapto before they 
were discovered) never to be seen again. 

So poor old Troll Loudly is currently a resident of this very hospital,
on the fifth floor, Mcphsyciatric ward. Bedridden and continually 
sedated through a drip, unconcious actually, she's much quieter that 
way. (she had continued to troll loudly for quite a few hours before a 
unanimous decision was made!) 

Poor old Troll Loudly, now laying there upstairs quieter than she has
been in all her life, had immediatly had her say in the matter of 
naming the child, the minute she was told. She 'suggested' Loudly, for 
a girl (perish the thought) and Fotherington for a boy, her late 
husband's name. 

He was also 'loud' bucktoothed and British to the bone and usually wore
safari suits and carried a putter everywhere he went (EVERYWHERE!) 
though he never played golf in his life. He was also quite a few 
sandwiches short of a picnic. So short of the mark some said, that 
there was only the blanket. 

He later went completly and irrivocable insane, became a semi-static
vegetable for the most part waking only occasionally to shout "TALLY HO 
OL CHAP!" more often than not convinced he was a very large Hedgehog. 

He is locked away up on the hill in Valium Vines Pshyciatric Institute,
where he has lived for about fifteen years. Thus the troll refers to 
him as 'late'. It's a rather sore point among the Quicklys and never 
spoken of. 

"How about 'Moovit"? asked Nickov, for amusement. "NO" "Igor then" "NO"
"Ah stuffit" said Nickov, "how about Ronald?, the kids got red hair" 
"oh my, thats rich" said gladys "RICH" they both said together. 

So over mc coffee no.3, the baby became Rich Quickly. Well not
literally, he actually grew up in the proud Quickly tradition and when 
he turned 65 his name went up on a silver plaque on the social security 
wall of fame. 

Now in this same hospital, in Mcdelievery suit#1 there happens to be a
woman named Quilty, who also happens to be having her no.7 and to push 
credibility just a bit more, she is also a red head like Gladys and 
gave birth at the same time. 

Now it came to pass that another young nurse with a tag that said "Hi Im
Linda" , who was on the registers at Maccas on the ground floor, was 
called up to maternity to fill in for "Hi Im Jane" who suddenly had her 
first 'monthly' and had to go home. 

Although she had no previous exp in Mcmaternity having begun training
just that morning, the fifteen year old Mchospital Administrator, Who's 
tag said 'Manager-Kevin Acne', sent her up anyway , putting "Hi Im 
Sally" on her registar. 

Since Quilty jr was now ready to Mcleave, "Hi I'm Linda" was sent to
collect her, whilst Mrs Quilty was having a last minute checkup and a 
big mac meal. 

In Mcnursery land all the cribs are lined up in alphabetical order to
assist Id. There are only two q's side by side. "Hi I'm Linda" is about 
to grab Quilty jnr when she was distracted by "Hi I'm Nigel" who smiled 
at her. So she blushed and ran off to the locker room to write it in 
her diary. 

Whilst she was gone, "Hi I'm somebody else" came along and took Q for a
nice bottle of powdered Mcshake. So "Hi I'm Linda" came back, grabbed 
the only Q and off she went. 

Proud Cletus Quilty smiled a wide overbite smile and popped that thar
no.7 in the wagon all snug on the hay by the chickens, and with a happy 
'gee up', MA and pa and 7 little Quiltys (they thought)set off for them 
thar hills, leaving a trail of horse shit in the Mcambulance bay. 

Meanwhile on the other side of Mchospital the two Quickly cabs were
loaded. "Where you wanna go?" asked Nickovs driver peeling an orange. 
At home at last Gladys sits down for a cuppa and Nickov for a beer and 
In went off carrying her tray liner which she later sent in claiming to 
be five years old. 

Gladys had just dunked her first bikky when little rich began to cry.
In, on her way down the hall with some bread for the toilet duck, 
offered to be the first to change her little nephews nappy. Suddenly 
there came a scream from the bedroom. "HIS WILLYS GONE!!" (oh for 
fuck's sake) 

In defence of IN, she had never had kids despite her name since a
childhood bout of menengitis had left her sterile (thank god) There was 
In frantically searching the cot bedding. Failing to turn up the lost 
willy she dropped to her knees and looked underneath, under the bed, 
even under the dressing table on the other side incase it had rolled! 

In began to panic, then she had a brain wave. "I'll call the taxi co."
So off she went to ring up. Gladys was laughing so much that several 
Mcstitches threatened to pop. The baby began to kick his little legs, 
the romper fell away and Gladys freaked. "His willys gone". 

A sharp slap in the face soon brought her to her senses and she changed
the little imposter and dressed her in a clean romper. In looked up 
from the phone, "They havent found a willy". Nickov grabbed the phone 
and ordered a cab. 

Gladys kindly explained to In that it wasn't her fault, sometimes they
fall off when they're new cause the glue isn't dry yet. Leaving her 
with a box of tissues and instructions to watch the kids, they went out 
to wait for the cab. 

The cab pulled up in the drive, the drivers window rolled down and a
peice of orange peel flew out. "Where you wanna go?" At the hospital 
the involved parties were gathered, the mix up explained and "Hi I'm 
Linda" burst into tears and ran off to write in her diary. 

They were given an apology, several mac meal vouchers and the Quiltys
address. As they approached the Quiltys the road grew bumpy and the 
driver was forced to abandon his half peeled orange when steering with 
his knees became impossible. 

"Where the fuck do you get all those anyway? " asked Nickov. Dimitri
banged a fist on his door and a panel opened reveling the orange stash. 
"Is handy yes?" said a smiling Dimitri proudly. 

They pulled up infront a shack with a stihl out back and a rocker on the
front porch. The door was answered by the buisness end of a 3.03 
winchester. "yup" "Im afraid there's been a mix up", You have our boy 
and we have your girl" said Gladys looking down at little Quilty jrn 
and noticing for the first time the little toothless overbite. 

"If we could just swap well be on our way" said Nickov, smiling the kind
of smile reserved for anyone pointing a gun at you. "Best y'all come 
in" said cletus. The gun never wavered. "Dont mind the hogs". He kicked 
a suckling sow and there was an ear splitting squeal as 350lb of bacon 
hightailed it out the door followd by 16 piglets. 

"Gon girty git" said cletus shooing one of a dozen chickens off a couch
that a pox infected sewer rat with gonareah wouldnt go near. Indicating 
they sit. 

"Cletus jnr, Elroy, Jhonnie, Maisy, Elvis, Hetty, Jimmy, be gon checkin
tha road, Ma's got the pot ready". Sitting on the chicken shit couch, 
Nickov and Gladys made mental notes to burn their clothes and the babys 
too. 

"They say we got their baby ma" said cletus still aiming in their
general direction. "Reckon its a trick Cletus" said a suspicious ma 
Quilty glareing at them. Gladys carefully layed little quilty jnr on 
the couch, whispering an apology. 

Just then Cletus jnr, or was it Elroy?, came running in holding a
bloated road kill possum by the tail. "Looky pa, I git us one!" 
Suddenly the sow returned on the run, followed by another Quilty child 
who was beating it with a stick. 

The pig hit Cletus who fell over backwards. There were two deafening
booms and a large hole appeared in the ceiling. "GET RICH QUICK" 
shouted Nickov. He rolled up and punched Ma Quilty in the mouth. She 
dropped Quickly jnr who was deftly caught by Gladys and they made a run 
for it. 

Outside Dimitri who had dropped more than his orange when he heard
gunshots, did a very quick mental calculation and had decided never the 
less he wanted his fare, had the engine running and the doors open 
ready. 

Gladys, Nickov and the baby flew inside and Dimitri put the peddle to
the metal. A shot rang out and the porch upright exploded causing the 
roof to collapse knocking Cletus out. Another shot (MA Quilty) The boot 
flew open but Dimitri wasn't stopping. 

At the Quickly house, having releaved Nickov of the contents of his
wallet and Gladys of her ring, "To cover damages yes", he glued the 
boot shut with the juice of an orange and drove away. 

"Did you find his willy sis?" asked In. 

"Yes love" said a weary Gladys. 

Stupid bitch, thought Nickov. 

After burning all their clothes and showering till the hot water along
with several bars of soap ran out, little Rich Quickly was finally 
welcomed home and put to bed. 

He never did lose his willy again but In checked alot till he grew out
of nappies, just in case. She won that coloring competition too, she 
got a full set of Mcdonalds figures and a coloring book. 

Dimitri claimed compensation for pshycological damages and plans to
retire and buy an orange plantation. 

Sadly for the Quiltys, just a few days later whilst out collecting rd
kill, the stihl blew up and incinerated their shack entirely. 
so............. "They packed up their wagon and they moved to 
Beverley....hills that is! Y'all come back now y'hear?' end pt3 

Get Rich Quickly 

This chapter begins with the birth of little Quickly no.7, on the third
floor of Mchospital, built two years after the unfortunate demise of 
Grandad Pissov Quickly and ironically ontop of the site (once a 
landfill) known as Potters Field Cemetry, where dear old Grandad was 
planted. 

It was taken over by some Corp associated with Mcdonalds. Nobody cared
to vote against the idea, with the exception of the Director of 
Ex-Mortis Express, who was forced to find another Potters Field. 
Fortunatly there was a disused amunition dump on the outskirts of 
Stiffgrove and a long cheap lease was secured. So Mchospital was built. 
Down the third floor corridoor behind twin doors sporting a life-size 
portrait of the world famous magical clown, was Gladys Quickly in 
MCdelivery suit#2, red faced, legs in stirrups being given gas and 
asked if shed like "Fries with that?". 

"NO" said Gladys. 

"How about a tray liner to color whilst you wait?...your not quite
ready". 

"I wanna sundae" came a small voice from under the bed. 

By 11am being fully Mcdialated and ready to give birth, In Quickly,
Gladys's unmentioned sister (none of the clan was ever too keen to 
mention her) and the 6 kids were ushered down to playland whilst no.7 
was coaxed, cajoled, manipulated and finally Mcvac extracted into the 
world. 

It's a boy! A rather pre-pubescent looking nurse with a tag that said
"Hi I'm Jane", handed Nickov a congratulatry balloon with the 
Hamburgular on it and went to work on Gladys, Mcstitching. 

With no.7 settled in Mcnurseryland, Nickov wheels Gladys downstairs to
see IN and the kids, in... .MCdonalds of course. With the kids 
slurping, munching and frisbeeing pickles to their delight at another 
table and In coloring a tray liner, Nickov and Gladys ordered coffee 
and sat down to discuss monicas. (not the Lewinski kind -ed) 

Troll Loudly, Gladys's mother, was not 'exactly' present, due to an
unfortunate accident a week earlier. Whilst out walking Hitler and 
Stalin, her two demented poodles (tormenting the general public) They 
were suddenly distracted by another small dog passing with it's similar 
owner in the opposite direction, unfortunatly on the other side of a 4 
lane main road. 

Straining on their leads with all of their combined eight pound might,
poor old Troll Loudly, who naturually was wearing a pair of 
ridiculously high and garish gold lame shoes, was toppled out into the 
road way in front of a swiftly moving taxi. 

The driver by some 'Murphyish' co-incidence, was Dimitry Popadopolis,
who drove the clan to the sad affair of Pissov's funeral 2 yrs ago. 
Incidently he was steering with his knees whilst peeling an orange at 
the time. 

Thus pre-occupied he stopped only after hurling the unlucky Troll Loudly
several feet in the air. Now trolling very loudly indeed, lying 
prostrate with most of her considerable bulk beneath Dimitry's cab, was 
quite unable to move at all. 

Wedged as she was she was then forced to watch in abject horror as her
poochie woochies were neatly picked up between the tandem wheel's of a 
passing big rig in the adjacent lane, and with their little pink 
dimante studded lead's going round and round with the wheel's, were 
carried away up Queen Anne Drive (and half way to Dapto before they 
were discovered) never to be seen again. 

So poor old Troll Loudly is currently a resident of this very hospital,
on the fifth floor, Mcphsyciatric ward. Bedridden and continually 
sedated through a drip, unconcious actually, she's much quieter that 
way. (she had continued to troll loudly for quite a few hours before a 
unanimous decision was made!) 

Poor old Troll Loudly, now laying there upstairs quieter than she has
been in all her life, had immediatly had her say in the matter of 
naming the child, the minute she was told. She 'suggested' Loudly, for 
a girl (perish the thought) and Fotherington for a boy, her late 
husband's name. 

He was also 'loud' bucktoothed and British to the bone and usually wore
safari suits and carried a putter everywhere he went (EVERYWHERE!) 
though he never played golf in his life. He was also quite a few 
sandwiches short of a picnic. So short of the mark some said, that 
there was only the blanket. 

He later went completly and irrivocable insane, became a semi-static
vegetable for the most part waking only occasionally to shout "TALLY HO 
OL CHAP!" more often than not convinced he was a very large Hedgehog. 

He is locked away up on the hill in Valium Vines Pshyciatric Institute,
where he has lived for about fifteen years. Thus the troll refers to 
him as 'late'. It's a rather sore point among the Quicklys and never 
spoken of. 

"How about 'Moovit"? asked Nickov, for amusement. "NO" "Igor then" "NO"
"Ah stuffit" said Nickov, "how about Ronald?, the kids got red hair" 
"oh my, thats rich" said gladys "RICH" they both said together. 

So over mc coffee no.3, the baby became Rich Quickly. Well not
literally, he actually grew up in the proud Quickly tradition and when 
he turned 65 his name went up on a silver plaque on the social security 
wall of fame. 

Now in this same hospital, in Mcdelievery suit#1 there happens to be a
woman named Quilty, who also happens to be having her no.7 and to push 
credibility just a bit more, she is also a red head like Gladys and 
gave birth at the same time. 

Now it came to pass that another young nurse with a tag that said "Hi Im
Linda" , who was on the registers at Maccas on the ground floor, was 
called up to maternity to fill in for "Hi Im Jane" who suddenly had her 
first 'monthly' and had to go home. 

Although she had no previous exp in Mcmaternity having begun training
just that morning, the fifteen year old Mchospital Administrator, Who's 
tag said 'Manager-Kevin Acne', sent her up anyway , putting "Hi Im 
Sally" on her registar. 

Since Quilty jr was now ready to Mcleave, "Hi I'm Linda" was sent to
collect her, whilst Mrs Quilty was having a last minute checkup and a 
big mac meal. 

In Mcnursery land all the cribs are lined up in alphabetical order to
assist Id. There are only two q's side by side. "Hi I'm Linda" is about 
to grab Quilty jnr when she was distracted by "Hi I'm Nigel" who smiled 
at her. So she blushed and ran off to the locker room to write it in 
her diary. 

Whilst she was gone, "Hi I'm somebody else" came along and took Q for a
nice bottle of powdered Mcshake. So "Hi I'm Linda" came back, grabbed 
the only Q and off she went. 

Proud Cletus Quilty smiled a wide overbite smile and popped that thar
no.7 in the wagon all snug on the hay by the chickens, and with a happy 
'gee up', MA and pa and 7 little Quiltys (they thought)set off for them 
thar hills, leaving a trail of horse shit in the Mcambulance bay. 

Meanwhile on the other side of Mchospital the two Quickly cabs were
loaded. "Where you wanna go?" asked Nickovs driver peeling an orange. 
At home at last Gladys sits down for a cuppa and Nickov for a beer and 
In went off carrying her tray liner which she later sent in claiming to 
be five years old. 

Gladys had just dunked her first bikky when little rich began to cry.
In, on her way down the hall with some bread for the toilet duck, 
offered to be the first to change her little nephews nappy. Suddenly 
there came a scream from the bedroom. "HIS WILLYS GONE!!" (oh for 
fuck's sake) 

In defence of IN, she had never had kids despite her name since a
childhood bout of menengitis had left her sterile (thank god) There was 
In frantically searching the cot bedding. Failing to turn up the lost 
willy she dropped to her knees and looked underneath, under the bed, 
even under the dressing table on the other side incase it had rolled! 

In began to panic, then she had a brain wave. "I'll call the taxi co."
So off she went to ring up. Gladys was laughing so much that several 
Mcstitches threatened to pop. The baby began to kick his little legs, 
the romper fell away and Gladys freaked. "His willys gone". 

A sharp slap in the face soon brought her to her senses and she changed
the little imposter and dressed her in a clean romper. In looked up 
from the phone, "They havent found a willy". Nickov grabbed the phone 
and ordered a cab. 

Gladys kindly explained to In that it wasn't her fault, sometimes they
fall off when they're new cause the glue isn't dry yet. Leaving her 
with a box of tissues and instructions to watch the kids, they went out 
to wait for the cab. 

The cab pulled up in the drive, the drivers window rolled down and a
peice of orange peel flew out. "Where you wanna go?" At the hospital 
the involved parties were gathered, the mix up explained and "Hi I'm 
Linda" burst into tears and ran off to write in her diary. 

They were given an apology, several mac meal vouchers and the Quiltys
address. As they approached the Quiltys the road grew bumpy and the 
driver was forced to abandon his half peeled orange when steering with 
his knees became impossible. 

"Where the fuck do you get all those anyway? " asked Nickov. Dimitri
banged a fist on his door and a panel opened reveling the orange stash. 
"Is handy yes?" said a smiling Dimitri proudly. 

They pulled up infront a shack with a stihl out back and a rocker on the
front porch. The door was answered by the buisness end of a 3.03 
winchester. "yup" "Im afraid there's been a mix up", You have our boy 
and we have your girl" said Gladys looking down at little Quilty jrn 
and noticing for the first time the little toothless overbite. 

"If we could just swap well be on our way" said Nickov, smiling the kind
of smile reserved for anyone pointing a gun at you. "Best y'all come 
in" said cletus. The gun never wavered. "Dont mind the hogs". He kicked 
a suckling sow and there was an ear splitting squeal as 350lb of bacon 
hightailed it out the door followd by 16 piglets. 

"Gon girty git" said cletus shooing one of a dozen chickens off a couch
that a pox infected sewer rat with gonareah wouldnt go near. Indicating 
they sit. 

"Cletus jnr, Elroy, Jhonnie, Maisy, Elvis, Hetty, Jimmy, be gon checkin
tha road, Ma's got the pot ready". Sitting on the chicken shit couch, 
Nickov and Gladys made mental notes to burn their clothes and the babys 
too. 

"They say we got their baby ma" said cletus still aiming in their
general direction. "Reckon its a trick Cletus" said a suspicious ma 
Quilty glareing at them. Gladys carefully layed little quilty jnr on 
the couch, whispering an apology. 

Just then Cletus jnr, or was it Elroy?, came running in holding a
bloated road kill possum by the tail. "Looky pa, I git us one!" 
Suddenly the sow returned on the run, followed by another Quilty child 
who was beating it with a stick. 

The pig hit Cletus who fell over backwards. There were two deafening
booms and a large hole appeared in the ceiling. "GET RICH QUICK" 
shouted Nickov. He rolled up and punched Ma Quilty in the mouth. She 
dropped Quickly jnr who was deftly caught by Gladys and they made a run 
for it. 

Outside Dimitri who had dropped more than his orange when he heard
gunshots, did a very quick mental calculation and had decided never the 
less he wanted his fare, had the engine running and the doors open 
ready. 

Gladys, Nickov and the baby flew inside and Dimitri put the peddle to
the metal. A shot rang out and the porch upright exploded causing the 
roof to collapse knocking Cletus out. Another shot (MA Quilty) The boot 
flew open but Dimitri wasn't stopping. 

At the Quickly house, having releaved Nickov of the contents of his
wallet and Gladys of her ring, "To cover damages yes", he glued the 
boot shut with the juice of an orange and drove away. 

"Did you find his willy sis?" asked In. 

"Yes love" said a weary Gladys. 

Stupid bitch, thought Nickov. 

After burning all their clothes and showering till the hot water along
with several bars of soap ran out, little Rich Quickly was finally 
welcomed home and put to bed. 

He never did lose his willy again but In checked alot till he grew out
of nappies, just in case. She won that coloring competition too, she 
got a full set of Mcdonalds figures and a coloring book. 

Dimitri claimed compensation for pshycological damages and plans to
retire and buy an orange plantation. 

Sadly for the Quiltys, just a few days later whilst out collecting rd
kill, the stihl blew up and incinerated their shack entirely. 
so............. "They packed up their wagon and they moved to 
Beverley....hills that is! Y'all come back now y'hear?' end pt3 

Christmas Comes 'QUICKLY' 

"T'was the night before christmas and all through the house, not a
creature was stirring"... 

..Except little Bart Quickly (no.1) whos bed contains a fake Quickly
made of pillows and an old wig, once belonging to Troll Loudly. 

Little Bart is waiting on top of his closet, which is conveniently right
behind his bedroom door. He is fidgeting and squirming and rather 
uncomfortable up there. 

He has been up there for about half an hour already because to his mind,
Santa is late. He is shareing the space with a bucket because for the 
last two days he has been carefully saving urine. 

The bucket is now about half full of rather whiffy little boy piss, with
which little Bart intends to have some fun. 

It began last year when dear old Santa failed to deliver 'Gameboy mind
blower II' Instead, a ping pong bat with a ball attached by elastic 
made it's debut in his stocking. Bart took it to school an subsequently 
was jeered and ribbed by his little mates. He has never lived it down. 

So for 12 months a plan has been festering in his devious little mind. A
plan to piss on Santa's parade, literally. 

Down stairs in the kitchen, finally having gotten little Rich (no.7) to
sleep, Gladys, Nickov, and Troll Loudly were having a well earned rest 
from the horrendous annual Quickly christmas shopping. 

Nickov opened another beer to wash down another hand full of pretzles.
"You oughtn't drink so much" roared a hypocritical troll loudly, 
whispering. "Mum it's christmas" came Gladys to his defence, "anyway 
its time Santa delivered" she said, finishing off her fifth glass of 
bubbly. 

"No no " interfeared the troll as usual, "you've had too much to drink,
you'll wake the children" etc etc. Gladys hesitated remembering how her 
mother had done exactly that last year, but there was no argueing with 
the troll. 

"You do remember which gift is for which don't you Mum?" "Well now of
course I do" roared the troll and with that she scooped up an armload 
of bags and stomping off, made her way upstairs, swaying dangerously as 
she went. She was particulary fond of sherry and was already three 
sails to the wind. 

"Do you think she'll be alright?" asked Gladys. "Not a chance, said a
pre-occupied Nickov who was mentally picturing the troll, plummeting 
down from the upstairs landing, too good to be true". Troll Loudlys 
footsteps receded up the stairs... 

..Footsteps approached on the stairs, big heavy footsteps like fat old
Santa would make. Little Bart got very excited, he picked up the 
bucket, carefully resting it on top of the door. His room was dark, 
Santa wouldn't see. Santa's footsteps went into his sisters room. 

Nickov had just made a very rude observation concerning the trolls arse
and the back of a greyhound bus. "Don't be mean ya bastard" Gladys 
giggled, and they laughed together. 

Christmas had always been a happy special time for Nickov and Gladys,
barring this years presence of the troll, and they laughed alot. This 
year the laughter was about to come to an abrupt halt. 

..Meanwhile Santa was taking so long that Bart was jiggling with
impatience, "Hurry up you old bastard" he thought to himself in the 
dark. Troll loudly, fumbling around in the dark half pissed, finally 
got done and headed off to the next room where two more little Quicklys 
resided. 

Here he comes thought Bart as Santa's footsteps came staggering up the
hall, but no, Santa went into his brothers room. "Come on already for 
cryin' out loud" said Bart quietly to himself. His little legs were 
beginning to cramp. 

Gladys kissed Nickov and went off to their bedroom. She got into some
sexy gear and climbed into bed to wait for Nickov. (Incidently this is 
how atleast 3 little Quicklys came to be, some don't learn -Ed). 

Nickov who had been slugging very generous vodka chasers since they got
home, was well and truely parrotwise!. About to go to bed he got up, 
turned off the kitchen light and fell arse over his chair. 

Whilst on the floor in the dark he spotted the cat in the moonlight
shining through the window. Remembering Hitler and Stalin, he felt 
quite kindly toward their nice quiet cat. 

He put down a bowl and poured some milk for it. Whilst putting the milk
back he spied some leftover sausages so he gave it one of those aswell. 
Merry xmas cat. 

By now little Barts cramp was almost unbearable. Troll loudly now done
with room two, wobbled off in the dark. On the way out she swayed into 
the double bunk causing it to creak loudly, she froze. 

..Santa's footsteps suddenly stopped. "Oh shit, oh shit he knows" Bart
panicked. He remembers his father telling him that Santa knows 
everything. Maybe he was right. 

.. but just then the footsteps resumed. Bart let out a sigh of relief
and smiled again. Up the hall towards his room they came, Stomp clomp 
they went. Bart was shivering with nervous excitment, barely able to 
keep still, the bucket of piss shook in his sweaty little hand and he 
almost dropped it. But then.... 

His brother turned over in bed making a noise, the footsteps froze
again. The hall was dimly lit but Bart could just make out, through the 
crack between the door and the wall, a tiny sliver of red! Santa! he 
was so excited he almost wet himself and had to squinch his legs 
together. 

Troll loudly in her red coat, santa hat and beard, her breath all raspy
from exertion and her face just as red from sherry, stood swaying 
slightly, squinting through her bi-focals into the dark room. 

The noise stopped and she could just make out the shape of the boy in
the lower bunk (actually the pillows and one of her own old wigs) fast 
asleep. So somewhat more quietly, she resumed her chandelstine 
buisness. 

The glimps of red grew larger and larger, the bucket shook, Bart, tongue
protruding with concentration, took aim! 1..2..3..... 

Three litres of piss descended in a glorious arc as if in slow motion.
Bart sucked in his breath as a Troll Loudlys face hove into veiw! His 
bladder let go as the piss hit it's mark. Bullseye! 

The scream was heard four blocks away, neighbourhood dogs began to howl
and several glasses down in the kitchen shattered! She fell from the 
bannister? Nickov thought, please please. 

The scream cut off with a loud thud (upstairs) There came a chorus of
little Quickly crys. some scared some excited, "Santas been". There 
laying in the hall in a patch of wet carpet and not moveing, lay the 
troll. 

Nickov shouted to Gladys to call an ambulance and went she ran
downstairs he looked over the immobile form. The wet smelly matronly 
bosom wasn't moving. "Shit!" He felt for a pulse, found it, good. But 
she wasn't breathing. 

What to do? think think! Racing to the bathroom he grabbed the hair
dryer, there was a socket in the hall nearby. He stuck it in the 
horrible maw and turned it on. The chest rose and he turned it off. 
Nothing. He did it again. Nothing. He did it one more time and this 
time she coughed and splutered and began to breathe. 

He could hear Gladys coming up the stairs now so he threw the dryer in
the kids room. By the time he'd explained to Gladys how he'd saved her 
life (carefully omitting any mention of the dryer) they could hear a 
siren approaching. 

Gladys calmed the kids whilst the ambos went to work. "Phew! she
incontinent?" the ambo asked Nickov. He had actually thought so too, 
but just shrugged. "She's had a heart attack mate" said the ambo, "your 
mother?" "No In-law" said Nickov, "Will she...?" "No" said the ambo, 
she'll recover in a few days. 

The two ambos get either end of the large wet smelly daunting looking
woman. They lift. "Put her down! put her down!!" "You'll have to help 
us mate" they said. 

So together the three lift poor old troll onto the stretcher and
straining hard, Carry her away downstairs to the waiting Ambulance, and 
away they went into the night to Mchospital, sirens blaring. 

Little Bart was discovered still on the closet, wet and with the bucket
still in his little hand. After hearing his explanation, Nickov, 
keeping a straight face till he was well out of sight, ran into the 
bedroom and laughed till it hurt. 

Little Barts arse was soon as red as Santa's suit and he cryed himself
to sleep. 

Troll Loudly eventually made a full recovery but she never stayed on
christmas eve again. 

The next morning at breakfast Nickov was asked to explain the bowl of
milk and sausage on the floor next to Troll Loudlys fur hat. 

Christmas Comes 'QUICKLY' 

"T'was the night before christmas and all through the house, not a
creature was stirring"... 

..Except little Bart Quickly (no.1) whos bed contains a fake Quickly
made of pillows and an old wig, once belonging to Troll Loudly. 

Little Bart is waiting on top of his closet, which is conveniently right
behind his bedroom door. He is fidgeting and squirming and rather 
uncomfortable up there. 

He has been up there for about half an hour already because to his mind,
Santa is late. He is shareing the space with a bucket because for the 
last two days he has been carefully saving urine. 

The bucket is now about half full of rather whiffy little boy piss, with
which little Bart intends to have some fun. 

It began last year when dear old Santa failed to deliver 'Gameboy mind
blower II' Instead, a ping pong bat with a ball attached by elastic 
made it's debut in his stocking. Bart took it to school an subsequently 
was jeered and ribbed by his little mates. He has never lived it down. 

So for 12 months a plan has been festering in his devious little mind. A
plan to piss on Santa's parade, literally. 

Down stairs in the kitchen, finally having gotten little Rich (no.7) to
sleep, Gladys, Nickov, and Troll Loudly were having a well earned rest 
from the horrendous annual Quickly christmas shopping. 

Nickov opened another beer to wash down another hand full of pretzles.
"You oughtn't drink so much" roared a hypocritical troll loudly, 
whispering. "Mum it's christmas" came Gladys to his defence, "anyway 
its time Santa delivered" she said, finishing off her fifth glass of 
bubbly. 

"No no " interfeared the troll as usual, "you've had too much to drink,
you'll wake the children" etc etc. Gladys hesitated remembering how her 
mother had done exactly that last year, but there was no argueing with 
the troll. 

"You do remember which gift is for which don't you Mum?" "Well now of
course I do" roared the troll and with that she scooped up an armload 
of bags and stomping off, made her way upstairs, swaying dangerously as 
she went. She was particulary fond of sherry and was already three 
sails to the wind. 

"Do you think she'll be alright?" asked Gladys. "Not a chance, said a
pre-occupied Nickov who was mentally picturing the troll, plummeting 
down from the upstairs landing, too good to be true". Troll Loudlys 
footsteps receded up the stairs... 

..Footsteps approached on the stairs, big heavy footsteps like fat old
Santa would make. Little Bart got very excited, he picked up the 
bucket, carefully resting it on top of the door. His room was dark, 
Santa wouldn't see. Santa's footsteps went into his sisters room. 

Nickov had just made a very rude observation concerning the trolls arse
and the back of a greyhound bus. "Don't be mean ya bastard" Gladys 
giggled, and they laughed together. 

Christmas had always been a happy special time for Nickov and Gladys,
barring this years presence of the troll, and they laughed alot. This 
year the laughter was about to come to an abrupt halt. 

..Meanwhile Santa was taking so long that Bart was jiggling with
impatience, "Hurry up you old bastard" he thought to himself in the 
dark. Troll loudly, fumbling around in the dark half pissed, finally 
got done and headed off to the next room where two more little Quicklys 
resided. 

Here he comes thought Bart as Santa's footsteps came staggering up the
hall, but no, Santa went into his brothers room. "Come on already for 
cryin' out loud" said Bart quietly to himself. His little legs were 
beginning to cramp. 

Gladys kissed Nickov and went off to their bedroom. She got into some
sexy gear and climbed into bed to wait for Nickov. (Incidently this is 
how atleast 3 little Quicklys came to be, some don't learn -Ed). 

Nickov who had been slugging very generous vodka chasers since they got
home, was well and truely parrotwise!. About to go to bed he got up, 
turned off the kitchen light and fell arse over his chair. 

Whilst on the floor in the dark he spotted the cat in the moonlight
shining through the window. Remembering Hitler and Stalin, he felt 
quite kindly toward their nice quiet cat. 

He put down a bowl and poured some milk for it. Whilst putting the milk
back he spied some leftover sausages so he gave it one of those aswell. 
Merry xmas cat. 

By now little Barts cramp was almost unbearable. Troll loudly now done
with room two, wobbled off in the dark. On the way out she swayed into 
the double bunk causing it to creak loudly, she froze. 

..Santa's footsteps suddenly stopped. "Oh shit, oh shit he knows" Bart
panicked. He remembers his father telling him that Santa knows 
everything. Maybe he was right. 

.. but just then the footsteps resumed. Bart let out a sigh of relief
and smiled again. Up the hall towards his room they came, Stomp clomp 
they went. Bart was shivering with nervous excitment, barely able to 
keep still, the bucket of piss shook in his sweaty little hand and he 
almost dropped it. But then.... 

His brother turned over in bed making a noise, the footsteps froze
again. The hall was dimly lit but Bart could just make out, through the 
crack between the door and the wall, a tiny sliver of red! Santa! he 
was so excited he almost wet himself and had to squinch his legs 
together. 

Troll loudly in her red coat, santa hat and beard, her breath all raspy
from exertion and her face just as red from sherry, stood swaying 
slightly, squinting through her bi-focals into the dark room. 

The noise stopped and she could just make out the shape of the boy in
the lower bunk (actually the pillows and one of her own old wigs) fast 
asleep. So somewhat more quietly, she resumed her chandelstine 
buisness. 

The glimps of red grew larger and larger, the bucket shook, Bart, tongue
protruding with concentration, took aim! 1..2..3..... 

Three litres of piss descended in a glorious arc as if in slow motion.
Bart sucked in his breath as a Troll Loudlys face hove into veiw! His 
bladder let go as the piss hit it's mark. Bullseye! 

The scream was heard four blocks away, neighbourhood dogs began to howl
and several glasses down in the kitchen shattered! She fell from the 
bannister? Nickov thought, please please. 

The scream cut off with a loud thud (upstairs) There came a chorus of
little Quickly crys. some scared some excited, "Santas been". There 
laying in the hall in a patch of wet carpet and not moveing, lay the 
troll. 

Nickov shouted to Gladys to call an ambulance and went she ran
downstairs he looked over the immobile form. The wet smelly matronly 
bosom wasn't moving. "Shit!" He felt for a pulse, found it, good. But 
she wasn't breathing. 

What to do? think think! Racing to the bathroom he grabbed the hair
dryer, there was a socket in the hall nearby. He stuck it in the 
horrible maw and turned it on. The chest rose and he turned it off. 
Nothing. He did it again. Nothing. He did it one more time and this 
time she coughed and splutered and began to breathe. 

He could hear Gladys coming up the stairs now so he threw the dryer in
the kids room. By the time he'd explained to Gladys how he'd saved her 
life (carefully omitting any mention of the dryer) they could hear a 
siren approaching. 

Gladys calmed the kids whilst the ambos went to work. "Phew! she
incontinent?" the ambo asked Nickov. He had actually thought so too, 
but just shrugged. "She's had a heart attack mate" said the ambo, "your 
mother?" "No In-law" said Nickov, "Will she...?" "No" said the ambo, 
she'll recover in a few days. 

The two ambos get either end of the large wet smelly daunting looking
woman. They lift. "Put her down! put her down!!" "You'll have to help 
us mate" they said. 

So together the three lift poor old troll onto the stretcher and
straining hard, Carry her away downstairs to the waiting Ambulance, and 
away they went into the night to Mchospital, sirens blaring. 

Little Bart was discovered still on the closet, wet and with the bucket
still in his little hand. After hearing his explanation, Nickov, 
keeping a straight face till he was well out of sight, ran into the 
bedroom and laughed till it hurt. 

Little Barts arse was soon as red as Santa's suit and he cryed himself
to sleep. 

Troll Loudly eventually made a full recovery but she never stayed on
christmas eve again. 

The next morning at breakfast Nickov was asked to explain the bowl of
milk and sausage on the floor next to Troll Loudlys fur hat. 

The Sorbent Cartel   pt5 

The sun was Shining, the fridge was full of beer, Gladys was 'in the
mood' and the kids were with aunt In for the weekend, oh and Troll 
Loudly was still in MCcardiac intensive care recovering from christmas 
eve (the piss bucket incident). 

All was well with Nickovs world when... The letter came!. It was a cheap
brown envelope bearing a hammer and sythe logo and an Australia post 
sticker informing the recipient of unpaid postage. 

It was addressed to: The son of Comrad Pissov Quickly 207 Smirnof Road,
Leningrad, U.S.S.R. One Ivan.R.Rippov was coming to visit. He was 
apparently a step brother. Which rang a bell.... 

.....It turned out the bell was totally unrelated and originated from
the Stiffgrove 'MR ASPARAGUS' van which was trundeling it's extremely 
unprofitable way around Low Income Estate. 

Fortunatetly it was not a sole income and it's rather optimistic
Proprietor could always make a few dollars at the end of each virtually 
saleless day, down at the Shady Days Rest Home. 

The Director Mr Ratborn Lowe was always eager to tighten the belt where
nessecary (for his maximum profit)Thus the menu consist of 11 different 
asparagus dishes, from soup to casserole and little else. 

Mr Asparagus, was Nellie Nitpicker, who ran 'Asparagus Hall' the
Stiffgrove Juvenile Centre for 'ne'r- do- wells' Where little Bart 
Quickly is overdue for a stay and where the menu is much the same. 

As Nickov watched a five foot asparagus spear roll past the window to
the tune of 'Green Sleeves', and wondered if anyone had ever stopped 
her, Gladys came in from the laundry and 'the mood' was gone. "What's 
Bart done now?" asked Nickov. 

What hadn't dear little Bart done? Gladys had received a call from
Sherrif Buttplug. He and his trusty deputy, Nimrod, had been called to 
the palatial home of one Miss Millicent Moneygreen from Dollarside 
Drive. 

She had been watching Days Of Our Lives when she was suddenly interupted
by a 'roof rocking'. She had given the culpret "A piece of my mind" and 
returned to the comfort of her Italian lounge when, her doorbell rang! 

Opening the door she was confronted by a flaming Mcdonalds bag. Fearing
a conflageration she had set about stamping it out wearing only her 
fluffy pink slippers, with quite some vigour and determination. It was 
only after extinguishing the blaze did she become acutely aware of it's 
contents. 

By the time she cleaned up the soaps were over . She was about to return
indoors when the first of 15 Plumbers, Taxis, and other 'on call' 
services had arrived including a Mcambulance, a Mr Asparagus van and a 
touring sexually transmitted diseases information bus. 

Given the description, a yellow t-shirt with 'BART' written on it,
clever Sherrif Buttplug and his trusty Deputy, managed to collar young 
Bart Quickly just a block away, still sniggering, watching another bag 
put out. 

So, off to deal with Bart, again, the letter was forgotten. 

**************************************** 

This bright wednesday morning finds us at Sydney international terminal.
The cabbie, driving with his knees while peeling an orange, pulls up 
and says "You gonna get shot at today? $23". "NO" said Nickov "Wait 
here". 

Gladys and Nickov were sitting in the airport bar having a drink,
worrying about the metre, and waiting for Ivan.R.Rippov. "I wonder what 
he looks like?"asked Gladys. "Probably a younger version of Pissov 
wearing a drab grey trenchcoat and a fur hat" said Nickov. 

At that point an announcement was made that flight 203 from Leningrad
would be delayed on the tarmac, while airport police delt with a 
drunken passenger. At the same time Gladys looked out the window to 
see..... 

A younger version of Pissov wearing a drab grey trenchcoat and a fur
hat. Being dragged along the tarmac betwixt two burly cops, he clutched 
what looked suspiciously like a very large duty free vodka bottle, and 
Danced his feet about singing happily in cryllic as he came. 

The airport cops made Nickov sign a form Agreeing to be solely
responsible for his charge while in Australia and for 
'bill-yet-to-arrive' for damage to the Quantas plane. 

"Well known for Defecting,this lot!" 

Carrying Ivan between them on a stretcher they made their way to the
baggage conveyer where they were stopped by a customs officer, asking 
if that was Ivan.R.Rippov? "How did you guess?" asked Nickov. "The 
trenchcoat and fur hat and the Steppe Goat in his suitcase" said the 
man. 

Out through the carpark ,carrying Ivan and leading a bleating Russian
Steppegoat on a string, they went, leaving a trail of Steppegoat sh*t 
behind them. 

Dimitry, apon waking from his dreams of an orange plantation and seeing
the Steppegoat and Ivan, Ordered Ivan to the boot. Arriving home they 
hauled Ivan from the boot and hauled the Russian Steppegoat from the 
backseat, returning with a shovel to haul out the Steppegoat sh*t!. 

After carefully calculating his loses including sh*t damage and eaten
apolstery, Dimitry who was soon to get a compensation payout, took his 
fare and waved damages. Having decided to sell the cab to recover some 
loss, gave up driving there and then, throwing a few orange peels to 
the Steppegoat, he drove away. 

That night, enjoying the first meal ever that was not potatoes, Ivan,
who would have enjoyed an asparagus dish from Shady Days just for its 
novelty value, waxed lyrical about his big mac meal and explained his 
arrival in australia. 

Ivan explained that he was a 39th generation potatoe farmer, out of work
due to 'Mad Potatoe' disease for some time. Good fortune had befallen 
him. 

He had been chosen for a top secret mission for the father land, for his
expertise of potatoes (his gullibility) by two 'Government Men' who who 
pay him for this mission of national importance, $5,000 Australian, 
equivalent to twenty years pay in Leningrad. 

He was to oversee the passing through customs of a container load of
M.P.D resistant potatoes to save the Russian economy. Nobody else could 
be entrusted to such a prestige mission. He would be flown to Australia 
ahead of 20 container loads of duty free vodka (NOT entrusted to him) 
and smooth the exchange. 

He was to meet one Boris Stalichnikov, to whom he was to give 1 billion
in Russian currency (about $1,000)to seal the container with a post 
inspection tag clearing it for customs, in order , they told him, that 
the U.S.S.R not be inconvenienced by official delay. 

So tommorow he was to be at Botany docks by 9am. Ivan could then enjoy
Australia till his 407 flight back to Leningrad the next day. It was 
also the day young Bart is released from 'Asparagus Hall'. 

During the night the steppegoat ate 3 bras and a pair of nickers, a
quater of their doona and the curtains. That was just in their room. 
Following a trail of Steppegoat sh*t down the hall, they found Ivan 
asleep infront of the t.v. with the goat on his lap eating the t.v. 
guide. 

********************************************* 

While they waited at 'Asparagus Hall', Bart was summoned from where he
was scrubbing the urinals with Nellie Nitpickers toothbrush, stolen 
from her personal quaters whilst she was out in the recreation yard, 
investigating a flaming Mcdonalds bag. 

Here comes little Bart now, red headed and defiant no less than when he
went in, not even slightly contrite looking, carrying his little 
starwars bag and a mischeivous grin. 

"Now sit yer wee ass down and no another word from ye, ya little prick!"
said Nitpicker personality#1. (she had a scottish accent. "One sound an 
I recommend 3 months and I bring back the Tom Jones records, got it?" 

"Hello!" said Nitpicker#2 "Ya must be the wee lads parents" "There ya go
Laddy din't I tell ye Mummy and Daddy would be here soon!" 

"And just ye remember it's all ta do with Asparagus, Right!" said
Nitpicker#1 slamming the door. 

Off they all went in the cab to Botany Docks, the driver steering with
his knees while peeling an orange. 

"No wrorry comrad Rippov all is done already for the great fatherland"
said Boris taking the money. 

They had left the docks and Boris had put down the paperwork to check on
his pet Steppe Goat, which he had stored in his locker. He had not been 
gone 5 minutes when along came the Customs Officer who had intercepted 
Ivans suitcase the day before. 

Finding the container unsealed he had ordered a regulation search. All
hell broke loose. 

Gladys and Nickov along with Ivan had just gotten home when several
Sirens could be heard approaching rapidly. 

Three federal ,police vehicals pulled up in the drive blocking in the
cab, and storming the house with weapons drawn. "That him Lenny?" asked 
fed #1 pointing his gun at Bart. 

"Na'h they said somethin' about a fur hat" said fed #2. 

Just then the Russian Steppe Goat came bolting through the house,
leaving a trail of steppegoat sh*t behind it and eating a fur hat. 
Following close behind in persuit of the hat came Ivan.R.Rippov. 

"Freeze Nyet Polizi" said fed#3 who was proudly multilingual.
Ivan.R.Rippov you are under arrest, you have the right...etc. Ivan was 
charged with Smuggleing 34,000 rolls of super soft sorbent toilet roll. 


Ivan fingered Boris who fingered the 'Government Men' who it turned out
were just very enterprising Soviet con men. He was aquitted and 
received a $5000 payout for psychological damages after his Steppe Goat 
was shot by fed #1. 

Fed #1 had discovered it eating the drivers seat of his patrol car and
leaving a pile of Steppe Goat sh*t on the passenger side. Ivan flew 
back to Leningrad a rich man and he and his mother moved to tropical 
Siberia where they lived happily ever after, with their 19 remaining 
Steppe Goats. 

After seeing off Ivan at the airport, Gladys and Nickov went home and
got busy with shovels and 'spring floral'. 

Bart did behave for a while anyway and he was happy to eat anything he
got as long as it wasn't asparagus. 

Mr Asparagus went on her way, trundeling around the Estate, sometimes
playing 'The Asparagus Song' sometimes 'Green Sleeves', nothing much 
changed her. 

Three weeks after that the Leningrad Nuclear Reactors twin stacks,which
were once discernable from Ivans bedroom window, had a meltdown, taking 
to the brink of extinction the entire population of wild Russian Steppe 
Goats. No-one cared. 

*About a year later there were reports of grief stricken visitors to
Leningrad Cemetary, being visciously attacked by 6 legged, many horned, 
three eyed, giant Russian Steppe Goats and luminous green mutant 
potatoes sprouting all over Moscow. 

Said the Soviet Ambassador for Enviromental Affairs "2-300,000 years,
good as new no worries, You want drink?". 

**The Spoon**  pt6 

** STIFFGROVE MINI 8 ** ** NOW SHOWING!!! ** New aussie comedy about a
family fighting to save their home from the attentions of a power mad 
chain developer who wants to build a 'SPOON ' restaurant on their lot, 
next to the airport! 

"How about this one Glad?" asked Nickov after reading the reveiw,
"Sounds alright!". Nickov was hatching a plan to take the kids to a 
movie. 

This was brought about by the recent aquisition, from the Stiffgrove
Used Vehicle Auction, Of a genuine 1960's, psychodelic, flower motiff, 
bongo van, Being the sole 'deceased estate' of the late 'Guru of 
Stiffgrove' (who also had a plaque down at the local social secutity 
'Hall Of Fame'). 

"It was 'Groovy' man!!" This teckni-colour 'Lurv' wagon! Had a bright
orange lambs wool steering wheel cover, Which hadn't seen water (except 
perhaps bong water) in years. Its interior was plastered throughout 
with peace symbol stickers, yellowed with age, and a 'Happy Buddah' sat 
superglued to the dashboard beneath two original hairy dice that hung 
from the rearveiw mirror. 

Nickov, sizing up it's 'Quickly capacity', immediatly made the sole and
winning bid! $50 going once, going twice, SOLD! to the man in the large 
blue 'It Wasn't Me!!!' shirt. So off went the Quicklys, all nine, to 
see 'The Spoon'. 

Gladys and little Quicklys 1-7 , with the exceptions of little Rich, and
little Dennis (aka the menace) Quickly 5 years, were all laid low in 
their seats, hands covering their faces, trying to avoid being seen by 
anyone they knew. 

Little Dennis Quickly has been digging down the seats and has come
across an ancient lost 'LSD' tablet (it was the loss of which, related 
directly to the deep dent in the rear of the van long ago) and thinking 
it was a blue smarty, he ate it!. 

The mini 8 was packed as the Quicklys made their way across the foyer to
the ticket booth. After buying ticket's, popcorn, Lollies and drink's, 
and quite a bit lighter in the back pocket, they made their way inside. 


"Stop that Dennis" said Gladys, distracted by Dennis who was pointing at
a man's hotdog and giggleing loudly about it. They moved along the 
vacant row beneath the balcony, showering pepsi and popcorn down the 
necks of those in the row in front as they went. 

They found their seats after a few angry outburst, mutterings of apology
and denials of parental relationship, the cinema fell quiet. The lights 
went off and the dusty red curtains rolled back to reveil the screen, 
showing the message 'Do Not Throw Popcorn At The Screen'. 

The screen was showered with handfuls of 'Hot-n-Buttered' from the front
row, and an add for Mcdonalds came on. "We want Mcdonalds" said the 
twins Penny and Jenny together, a 'pavlovian' response it's creaters 
and no doubt Mcdonalds would have applauded. 

"Your not having bloody Mcdonalds, knock it off!" said Gladys in a
feirce whisper. "I wanna go to the toilet" said little Benny quickly 
aged 6. Three red dots appeared on the screen and Dennis began 
complaining loudly about a large and apparently malovalent brocoli 
trying to pull him into the darkness beneath the seat. 

"Shut up Dennis, eat your candy floss" said Nickov. After a few minutes
of movie, Nickov dutiful to tradition, test rolled a few Jaffa's down 
the aisle. Getting no response, he threw one. 

It shot past a man 3 rows ahead, he heard a whizzing sound an assumed it
was the sound track, and hit a woman with a feathery hat square in the 
ear, dislodging a diamond earing. 

"How dare you!" yelped the woman, to no-one in particular. Realising she
had lost an earring, she intercepted the 'usher', who had just walked 
in to investigate a complaint about a child yelling about vegetables. 

Taking the usher's torch, she began to hunt about under her seat,
upsetting people and complaining loudly. Then complaining loudly about 
the people complaining about her, as the usher waited politly for the 
return of her torch. 

During the next few minutes of the movie, Nickov threw the occasionall
jaffa, Bart played with a laser pointer and Marky Quickly aged 4, 
jumped about in his seat, spilling more pepsi down the neck of a man 
infront if him. 

Dennis screamed when his fairy floss changed psychodelic colors, swirled
around on it's stick before it leapt off, and inched it's way up the 
wall like a caterpillar!. 

"Dad my floss ran away" "No it didn't Dad, it's on the back of that
lady's head!" exclaimed Benny. Nickov threw a few more jaffas, orange 
peels tumbled down from the balcony above and the twins began singing 
"Racing car racing car, number 9" slapping their hands together. 

Suddenly Barts laser pointer happen to catch the incredibly thick lenses
of a small mans glasses, and now magnified to untold intensity, began 
to burn a small smoldering hole in the cinema screen, which burst into 
flame, 'quickly' spreading to obliviate the actors, before the curtains 
caught fire. 

There was an uproar, patrons fled in panic, rushing for the exits,
causing a stampede in all directions. 

A half eaten orange followed by a large greek guy, fell from the
balcony, along with several other patron's jumping for their lives, 
including a truck driver from Dapto. 

The small bald man was trodden on and his incredibly thick glasses
shattered, by another man in a suit, who fled in a Mercedes. He had a 
minor accident,when he swerved to avoid a speeding and hideously bright 
bongo van. 

They met in Mchospital and later the small bald man became a resident of
Shady Days. Gladys, carrying little Rich and dragging Bart by the 
ear,had herded the clan Quickly to an exit and out to the carpark 
,before authorities arrived. 

The stiffgrove Fire Dept brought the blaze under control, but not before
the cinema,and the newly arrived 'Asparagus Cafe', which was 
experiencing a rather slack opening day next door, were gutted. 

Mrs Millicent Moneygreen never recovered her earring, she was knocked
unconscious on the under side of a cinema seat, when someone shouted 
"Fire". 

She had to be dragged from the mini 8 by three patrons, one who stole
her wig, leaving her bald but alive. Nickov drove the van into the 
garage when they got home and spray painted it with pale blue house 
paint, incase it was remembered. 

Little Dennis 'came down' eventually but suffered flash backs when ever
he saw a vegetable for months after. 

Gladys's hair began to fall out from stress and three days later, she
ran into Millicent Moneygreen at 'Wigs-R-Us'. 

Finally, the Stiffgrove mini 8 never recovered it's losses and closed
down, becoming the first 'Starbucks' in Stiffgrove. 

Moving Quickly    pt7 

It began with a letter from Stiffgrove Housing Commission. It arrived in
the Mailbox along with the usual Junk Mail on a Wednesday morning. 
Gladys had just brought in the mail, Nickov was just waking up in the 
bedroom and with the exception of the now three year old Rich posting 
vegemite toast into the video in the loungeroom, Quicklys 1-6 were at 
school. 

Dear Mr Quickly, the letter said , your claim for a larger home due to
the pending arrival of your 7th child, has just been approved. Your 
area manager Mr Apu Singe is pleased to inform you that such a 6 
bedroom dwelling has became available for your inspection on 1/4/00. 
Please bring 19 forms of identification for each person to be housed, 
to this office where you will be given the keys which must be handed in 
by close of buisness on the above date. yours Apu Singe. 

"Whats that then?" asked Nickov, yawning and pulling his undies out of
his arse 

"We got a bigger house" said Gladys,We got to go and look at it today it
says". So dragging little Rich away from the video which later required 
'the worx' at Videos-R-Us, They set off to the Stiffgrove Housing 
Commission office. 

They arrived at the office and explained their stituation in triplicate
to four different people before they were met by Mr Apu Sing, to whom 
they explained again. " You are wanting to apply for a 6 bedroom 
house??? asked Mr Apu Sing. 

" Just kidding, just kidding" he said chuckling. "Now let me see! oh
yes, here is the key" said Apu handing them a 12 hole bessa brick with 
a chain attached to 27 keys. "you must bring it back by 5pm, or I must 
be chargeing a fee!, "Thankyou please come again!". 

So off went Nickov & Gladys Quickly to see their new home at redlight st
Stiffgrove. Arriving at no.69, a large older style brick house with a 
two way mirror set in the front door, they took turns in holding the 
brick on the end of the chain whilst the other tried 26 keys before 
finding the right one. 

Inside the door was what looked suspicously like a waiting room,
complete with vynal couch and few well thumbed copies of Hustler on a 
small table. 

"Ah' six bedrooms" They both said knowingly. 

The six bedrooms, each connected to a still working intercom, were empty
save for an unwrapped condom in one, a questionable carpet stain in 
another and small pair of half eaten edible undies in a third. 

"Well at least there's plenty of room, Nick" said Gladys, and put that
magazine down you never know were its been!. 

It turned out that the "house" had once been the local wick-dipper
called "Best end Inn" run by Madam Douche who had been busted 6 months 
ago by Sherrif Buttplug and Deputy Nimrod and had "died" in custody 
whilst waiting for her court apperance, a nasty case of 
Ghonareah.(which one of her girls had given the sherrif a week before). 


The place had been closed down and had been palmed off to the housing
commission by the executor of the Madams will. So now Nickov and Gladys 
Quickly were to shortly, call it home. So they returned the keys and 
signed 19 times each to say they accepted. "Thankyou, please come 
again!" , and went to sort things out. 

They were still "sorting things out" four & 1/2 weeks later when the
truck from "Dodgy bros Removals-If its worth removing we'll remove it! 
" arrived backing the 6 tonne truck across the front lawn. "The trucks 
here!" screamed several little Quicklys from the loungeroom window. 

Nickov came out to see one of the Dodgy brothers kicking something
jammed between the trucks tandem rear tyres. Something that looked just 
like a mailbox with "Quickly" written on it.(at least it wasen't a 
poodle-ed). 

The Dodgy brothers were identical twins who looked alot like "Mario" on
nintendo. 

"It's two Mario's,wow!" said Benny Quickly. "Ow mum!" was the next thing
Benny said. Luckily the Marios had a good sense of humour and a good 
stash of Jamaican Hash which was mostly the reason for it. 

"Yeah well um...said Mario one, flapping his hands at the truck, you
know like....The stuff!" so they all headed inside to see what was 
what. Dodging little Quicklys and piles of boxes, which had things like 
'kitchen', 'bathroom' and 'kids stuff-dont look' written on them, they 
made their way to the kitchen to collect the fridge. 

The fridge was an old 60's kelvinator that weighed about as much as a
small car. It haden't been moved in years and had sunk an inch or two 
into the kitchen floor, requiring a car jack, both Mario's, Nickov and 
Gladys's best efforts to move it. 

Finally 1 1/2 hrs later, the fridge on the truck and the truck listing
slightly to the left, they were ready for the rest. Out came beds, 
wardrobes, more beds, lounges, armchairs, more beds, the cot (just in 
case) coffee tables, wall unit more beds and 67 assorted cartons and 
some pot plants. 

With the truck finally loaded and anything that said "Fragile" carefully
thrown in on top, the 2 Marios were given the address. "Um Er,Well.." 
Said one of the Bro's looking embarrest, "you sure this the place?" he 
said waving the address.(both Bro's had been there before, and not to 
remove anything more than their clothes!). 

"Yes" said Gladys. "It closed down" added Nickov. The Mario's were to
wait at the house, Gladys and Nickov and kids would tidy up and follow 
in the bongo van. So off went the Dodgy bro's in their truck, now 
digging very obvious trenches in the lawn as it went. As the rear 
wheels dropped off the gutter there was a very loud sound from inside, 
the sound of many boxes of breakables all breaking at once. 

The mailbox dislodged and clattered into the gutter, looking very worse
for wear followed by a peice of 'Roadworks' sign and a bit further 
along a witches hat. The truck dissappeared up the road, running a red 
light as it went. 

Gladys, Nickov and 7 little Quicklys were the first to arrive at the new
house, so they went inside to wait, and wait, and wait!. 

After running the red light, the Dodgys truck turned left on the very
narrow such'n'such pde heading north towards redlight st. At the corner 
of such'n'such and dollarside circuit the truck was stopped short by a 
merc on one side and exactly opposite, effectivly blocking the narrow 
street, A "Mr Asparagus" van?,where a lady in a feathery hat was 
actually buying an Asparagus split,waxed lyrical about well, 
'Asparagus!'. 

For 30 minutes they waxed,infact,before the lady went inside and the van
pulled away playing 'Greensleeves' allowing the truck to pass. By now 
the Dodgys decided it was lunch time so they went off to Macdonalds 
drive-in. 

"Hello Macdonalds Stiffgrove may I take your order?" "Um well ahh maybe,
you now some ahh..."said the driving Mario . 

"Burgers, fries, sundaes, applepies, cookies and four large cokes?"
prompted the girl. 

"Yeah thats it!" agreed the other Mario giggling. They were just driving
up to the window, when the truck clipped the menu board , smashing it 
in half with a shower of sparks. 

"$1834 please" said the girl, enjoy your meal. So the dodgy's wrote out
a cheque in Nickovs cheque book, The only thing deemed 'worth removing' 
among the Quickly's effects. Now having used it once they thought.. 

"Are you thinking what Im thinking D1?" "I think I am D2". "Dodgy
time"!. 

So off they went to the pub. After 3 hours , by which time they were
doing karioke and shouting the bar, they decided they'd better "you 
know...thingy" " drop off the ..um.. furniture n stuff!". 

The cost of this stop off , $1129.65, was also born by Nickovs cheque
book. Rhonda Ratchett the barmaid, called sherriff buttplug as soon as 
they left. Nickov Quickly had never paid his bar bill, let alone with a 
cheque! 

Given a discription, a six ton truck with 'Dodgy bro's removals, if it's
worth removing we'll remove it!' written on the side, sherrif Buttplug 
and faithful deputy Nimrod collared them arriving in the Quickly's 
drive. 

They were charged with two counts of fraud, grand stupidity, driving in
a dangerous manner and 7 counts of damaging public property along the 
way including reckless endangerment of life involving a low-speed chase 
as the dodgy's persued an elderly man along the sidewalk, for some 
distance before his motorised shopping mobile overturned, hurling him 
into a fruit stand. 

The truck was impounded as evidence along with the Quicklys worldly
goods so they were forced to stay with In. After finally getting their 
stuff back, including the fridge which had sunk an inch or two into the 
floor of the truck they moved in and set about making it home. 

Later that night they had just settled the kids into bed when about
11.55pm there came a tentive knock at the door. Nickov got upto answer 
it and was confronted by the local Vicar wearing a set of 'Groucho 
glasses' complete with fake nose and eyebrows. 

"Hello Vicar" said Nickov, "bit late isn't it? 

" Oh my..its you..er..I mean I was just blessing the new abode" said the
vicar guenuflecting wildly. " Blessed be Amen" he finished lamely. "You 
wouldn't er...would you?" asked the vicar. 

"No" said Nickov grinning, the new numbers on the wall at the post
office, third phone box!" 

The Vicar blushed beneath the nose and fled on his bicycle. They had
just settled again when the intercom next to Nickovs bed buzzed, "Night 
Dad". 

Nickov buzzed back, "Night Dennis". 

"Night Marky" 

"Night Mum" 

"Night Johnboy" 

"Night Maryellen"... 

"Shutup ya li'l bastards and go to sleep!", said Gladys. 

#About a week later they received a hefty bill from Mr Apu Singe related
to steppegoat damage, at their previous house! 

Losing it QUICKLY!!   Pt8 

Occasionally life throws up a 'wild card' even for those unlucky,
unemployed and generally unfortunate folk, like our hero Nickov. That 
is exactly what happened one monday night. 

The numbers for the big $20 million lotto draw rolled out of the barrel
un-noticed because Gladys was busy washing up and Nickov was sitting on 
the couch ,as usual, watching the antics of a television family with 
six kids who's hilarious misadventures Nickov thought, must make the 
script writers a bloody mint. 

When the phone rang beside him he called out 

"phone Darl" 

It was fathers day afterall. When "Darl" failed to come running and the
phone continued to shrilly accuse him of being the world's laziest 
bastard, he was forced to dig the remote out from under his arse, mute 
the tv and answer it. 

"Hello Quickly's" said Nickov, watching the tv kids causing a silent
three car pileup. 

"This is Erna Quid from the nsw state lottery" said the voice on the
phone. "Congratulations Sir, you've won $20 million". 

Nickov waited for In, his blonde sister in law to tell him she was only
kidding. When she did not he decided it was not her , she would not be 
smart enough to do that anyway, given she had recently been sacked from 
the local pharmacy for getting a bottle jammed in their typewriter for 
the third time in a row. 

As the expectant silence continued Nickov thought of Troll Loudly who
had once called him from the stiffgrove Tavern, claiming to be Rhonda 
Ratchett the barmaid, saying he'd won 200 free beers. He had hurried 
down there to be met by a camera crew from 'A current Affair' where he 
was the subject of a grilling interveiw by Marvin Wellysy about 
long-term unemployed fathers of six, who spent their days and their 
dole cheques at the local bar. 

"Darl" arrived taking the phone and the anxiety away. 

"Have I reached Quickly"? asked Erna Quid. 

The only other Quickly in the book being In, Gladys answered
affirmative. Erna Quid explained that the state lottery office would be 
around in the morning with a novelty cheque and a bottle of champaign 
and a camera crew, and hung up. 

Finally convinced and very excited indeed, Gladys and Nickov spent most
of the night celebrating with three bottles of duty free vodka which 
Gladys had bought as a parting gift for Ivan.R.Rippov but thought the 
better of after receiving a bill from Quantas airlines. 

The next morning the Quickly's awoke to the sound of a media circus. Van
doors slammed, jabbering reporters jabbered, makeup people powdered 
faces and the rest tested various sound apparatus, while news choppers, 
having made a connection to the address below, circled overhead. 

The lottery van arrived to a barrage of flashes and lots of jabbering,
with its bright red ball ontop. Its driver Mr I.M.Shonky and Erna Quid 
got out and were assaulted by the mob amidst flashes and a barrage of 
questions. 

A hushed silence fell over the crowd as Mr I.M.Shonky knocked on the
door of 69 redlight st stiffgrove. Nickov answered the door in a 
rumpled tracksuit, sunglasses and with the worst hangover in sober 
memory. 

There was another barrage of flashes and the door was surrounded by
media and the air bristled with microphones. 

"I represent the state lottery office" said Mr Shonky, pumping Nickov's
hand and smiling broadly for the cameras whilst turning sideways for 
the best photo angle. 

"Congratulations Mr Quickly, You've won $20 million". Erna Quid was
holding aloft the giant cheque , which was blowing wildly in the wash 
from the choppers rotors, suddenly got a call on her mobile phone. 
Handing the cheque to Nickov, she moved away to take the call. 

The seven little Quickly's ran outside and were immediatly swallowed by
the clutch of vulturesque reporters, while Gladys who had a phobia of 
cameras remained inside peeking through the curtains, only occasionally 
caught by a clever snapper. 

Nickov had exausted all the obvious questions and was now dealing with
the likes of Marvin Wellysy who wanted him to go on his show about 
unemployed fathers of six who win millions. 

Erna Quid was whispering in Mr Shonky's ear after which she suddenly
fled to the lottery van, locking the doors and pulling her 'state 
lottery' jacket over her head. The media caught a look of horror on the 
lotto reps face,and an expectant hush fell. 

"Um Mr Quickly" said Shonky now backing carefully away, "Im afraid (the
sound of collective breaths caught) Theres been a terrible mistake, It 
seems that there is A man in Beverly hills claiming to have won" he 
said still backing away. 

"It seems his ticket was registered to MR Q of stiffgrove and signed
with an x, Im terribly sorry but you haven't won" said Shonky breaking 
into a run for the van. 

There was an uproar among the media ,voices hurled questions at Nickov,
cameras flashed, and Nickov stood stunned as Marvin Wellysy invited him 
to his show about unemployed fathers of six who lose $20 million. The 
kids fled inside to their mother, Nickov fell to his knees. 

Someone shouted 'Quilty' and 'Beverly hills' and the media pack
scattered. Fleeing to their vans the sped away snapping a few more 
shots of a devestated man from their car windows as they went. The last 
of the vans dissappeared along with Marvin Wellysy and the choppers 
flew off and all was quiet at redlight st, Nickov's dream was over. 

That night the entire Quickly clan except Nickov, watched sobbing and
subdued as a smiling Nickov shook hands with Mr Shonky, giant cheque 
waving in the background, and still as Nickov fell howling to his knees 
(in the style of homer simpson) tears streaming from his eyes. 

The scene changed to the smiling overbite of Cletus Quilty, as he shook
hands with Mr Shonky, who discretly wiped his hands on his pants, 
before handing over the cheque. 

Nickov eventually recovered and learned to walk and speak again and was
released from Mcpsychiatric ward. The first thing he did when he got 
home was burn his 'It wasn't me!' shirt. 

Erna Quid fled Stiffgrove and took a job as a cleaner for the Quilty's. 

Gladys and the kids went into hiding till things went back to normal. In
went home and Troll Loudly went downhill after the shock and about the 
time of Nickov's release became a reluctant resident of shady days. 

The Quilty's built a really big shack and bought lots of hogs and
chickens. Cletus appeared breifly on 'A Current Affair' for a show 
about millionairs who once ate roadkill, but the hogs got lose in the 
tv studio, the chickens crapped everywhere and the show was cut. 

Fathers day was never mentioned in the Quickly house again but once a
year the kids would make him breakfast in bed of half burnt toast and 
soggy cereal, wishing him a happy day. 

Bookies B.B.Q's and Banknotes!   pt9 

Gladys had just been into the local pharmacy to pick up a script on the
way home. 

"Quickly" said the chemist. Gladys stepped up to the counter. 

"Sorry about the wait Mrs Quickly, we had a bottle stuck in the
typewriter" said the chemist with a smirk, handing her the package. 

"I hope you get whatever it is out of your ass aswell" said Gladys,
leaving a red faced chemist behind. Thanks In she thought, silly bitch. 


Gladys arrived home and set the shopping down when she heard a bang from
the laundry, followed by "Ah shit!". 

"I almost had it fixed" said a sheepish Nickov emerging from the
laundry. "We need a new dryer Darl" he said. 

On the wall in the laundry sat the dryer, a large and accusing burnt
patch on the wall behind it. The room was filled with acrid smoke. 

"There goes another one" said Gladys, and off she went to phone the
local charity to see if they had one. They didn't. So the Quickly's 
spent the weekend 'Doing' garage sales. 

Their beatup bongo van pulled up infront of the house, the drive was
filled with the usual assortment of sale junk. 

"They've got one Dad" said Benny Quickly, pointing to a dryer next to a
ratty couch. 

The sale was held by one Bookie Bob Blewit, Who owned Stiffgrove's
rather inconvenient 'convenience' store. It was always shut because 
Bookie Bob was down at the Stiffgrove Greyhound Track. 

Bob was well known around Stiffgrove by punters and loansharks alike,
which was not very convenient for Bob. So here he was ready to do a 
'runner' and needing cash 'quickly'. 

He was doing a runner from one particularly feared loanshark called
B.B.Q George. George as you may have guessed was really into B.b.q's, 
to which anyone owing him money were often invited, though seldom 
enjoyed and sometimes, never returned. George was big on roast nuts!. 

Booky Bob strode up the drive, giving a nervous glance right and left,
and said 

"How can I do ya?..er Help you?" 

"Were after a dryer, said Nickov,does it work?" 

"Oh sure" said Bob, "like a greyhound with a chillie up it's bum!"
(which was how Bob came to owe B.B.Q George, having borrowed the money 
for a fixed race which was a sure bet. But the greyhound, more 
concerned with it's burning ass, had taken off in the wrong direction 
and sat down to lick itself.) 

"How much do you want for it?" asked Nickov. 

"Oh how about $30 " said Bob, who had just caught a whiff of a weekend
b.b.q ,I'm leaving today and I need cash fast" explained bob. 

"Can you plug it in?" asked a cautious Gladys. 

So Bob plugged it in and sure enough off it went. 

"We'll take it" said Nickov. 

"How much for the beanbag mister?" asked Bart, who imagined diving off
his bunk onto it. 

" It's on me kid" said Bob who had just caught a whiff of something else
burning. 

Discreetly he kicked out the power lead and the dryer shut off. He tried
to interest them in some other junk till the smell was gone. Nickov 
paid for the dryer and a Betacord video and it was put in the bongo and 
off they went. 

With the last off the garage sale hunters ripped off by one oclock and
the smell of another b.b.q lit up, Bookie Bob decided not to linger. 
Grabbing his keys he ran inside for the suitcase and the stash, now 
where did he put it?. Shit! 

The Quickly's arrived home and the kids dragged the beanbag to their
room. Gladys threw some wet washing in the dryer while she made a 
cuppa. She had just sat down when she smelt something burning. She ran 
into the laundry where a thin column of smoke could be seen wafting 
ceilingward from behind the new dryer. 

She pulled the plug and hauled it off the wall to have a look before
Nickov 'fixed' it! The last screw fell out and she took off the back 
panel and there in the top left corner she discovered a wad. 

It was a big wad, containing $12,600 less a few bills that had burnt on
the element. The wad was ofcourse owed to b.b.q George. Gladys counted 
through it looking for any bills that said 'monopoly' but incredibly, 
there were not any. 

When B.B.Q's goons showed up at Bookie Bob's to 'invite' him to a b.b.q
the found some junk in the drive an empty house and no sign of the 
lucky Bob. 

Bob, who was not feeling so lucky was driving around Stiffgrove trying
to find 'the rabbit people' and their blue bongo. Meanwhile B.B.Q 
George was at kmart buying b.b.q fuel and not happy indeed! 

"What will we do with it Nick?" asked Gladys very excited. After
rejecting all but one suggestion they headed off to Kmart. 

Down at Kmart, one aisle over from sporting goods, George was admiring a
high quality tempered steel hotplate on which he planned to roast 
Bookie Bob. Not far away were the Quickly clan, in high spirits and 
'quickly' spending George's money. 

Aha! thought Bob spotting a blue bongo in the kmart carpark, he pulled
in and parked nearby, before racing in to get 'his' money back. In his 
hurry he failed to notice the dark blue Mercedes just a few spots away 
owned by B.B.Q George. 

"Excuse me, did you see a tall lazy looking bloke with his wife and 7
kids go by?" he asked the girl at the door. 

" Oh sure, she said, You couldn't miss them, waving money all over, they
went that way". Damn thought Bob, they found it already. 

Out in the carpark B.b.q's goons had just stepped from Georges car to
smoke while they waited when they noticed a Datsun 200b parked a few 
spots away. Its plate said BOB GGS . "Bingo!" 

"Have you seen a short shifty lookin' bloke with a pencil behind his
ear?, might of been in a hurry?" asked the goons. 

"Oh sure, said the same girl, went that way!" So the goons went off in
the indicated direction, looking for Bob. 

Just then Kmart announced a special on its range of b.b.q's and camping
gear, which sent a shiver through Bob and sent two 7 child fathers to 
the b.b.q aisle. 

Nickov was keenly discussing the merits of the 'Barbie King 2000 Delux
with a bloke who looked like al capone. Gladys was size dressing 7 
squirming little Quickly's in childrens wear and had filled one trolley 
and was working on another. 

Penny and Jenny Quickly were hiding among the clothes on the rack and
Gladys had stuck her head inside to find them when Cletus Quilty ambled 
past. She had just stood up in time to see Cletus and his overbite 
heading towards the b.b.q's. 

Two aisles away Nickov had spotted an old freind and gone to say hello.
Ma Quilty and 7 little Quilty's were eating in the cafeteria when a 
short shifty looking bloke with a pencil behind his ear ran in. 

"Huh?" said Bookie Bob to himself. There several tables away was a large
woman with 7 kids but it was not them!. Gladys had sent 4 Quickly 
scouts to find their Dad before he and Cletus Met. 

Cletus was just turning the corner into the b.b.q aisle when he was
barreled over by two goons, dragging a short man with a pencil behind 
his ear. They ignored Cletus and the protesting pencil wearer was 
brought before George. 

George, who had been asking about the Barbie king 2000 delux, was not
impressed when he was interupted by his goons dragging a pimply Kmart 
worker by the arms. 

Benny Quickly found his Dad talking to old Herringbone the vet.
Herringbone had become Quite eccentric since retiring last year and 
still wore a white coat everywhere in all weather. 

So Nickov and son, accompanied by old Herringbone now made their way
towards the exit. Gladys and the other Quickly's were now at the 
checkouts making a quick get away. 

Bob, still searching for Gladys and kids spotted them leaving the store.
Rushing toward the exit, he ran into Ma Quilty who thinking he was 
queue jumping, decided to teach him a lesson. She gave poor Bob a 
powerful 'coathanger' knocking him on his ass. The feral Quilty kids 
pounced on him, little fist swinging like haymakers. 

Now leaving the store, B.B.Q. George and his goon's were fired apon by
Cletus Quilty who had found himself a crossbow in sporting goods. Bob 
managed to escape the Quilty's by rolling under the checkout when 
security turned up. 

Ma Quilty was just dumping her purchases on the checkout when she heard
Cletus holler. On her way to investigate she spied Nickov and detoured 
to grab him by the ear, hollering to Cletus as she did. 

Ma's hollring was cut short when old Herringbone, with a twinkle in his
eye and a David Copperfeild like slight of hand, produced from his coat 
pocket a whopping great syring full of 'la la land' and plunged it into 
Ma Quilty's arse. 

Divested of her senses, little that she had, Ma dropped to the floor
without another sound. Nickov and son along with dear old Herringbone 
beat a fast retreat to the carpark. 

They had just loaded up the bongo when Bookie Bob stepped from behind
another car with a gun. 

"Gimme the money fast!". 

Just at that moment, a speeding Mcambulance called to the store for a
large unconcious woman and a beatup Kmart employee, clipped Bob sending 
him high over the bonnet. 

B.B.Q and his goons ,now leaving in a hurry were promptly nabbed by
Sherriff Buttplug and his Deputy Nimrod, who were called by security 
about a man shooting arrows. 

The Quickly clan made off in the bongo, narrowly missing a horse and
wagon that had bolted due to the Mcambulance siren. Fortunatly 
Herringbone managed to sedate the horse, earning him a citizenship 
award for bravery and his picture was in the Stiffgrove Times the next 
day. 

Cletus was arrested and detained overnight but released the next day
when lots of cash changed hands. 

The Quilty kids were taken to asparagus hall and Ma was taken to
Mchospital for observation. 

B.B.Q and his goons started a five year stretch in the Stiffgrove Gaol
playing Mummies and Daddies to even bigger meaner goon's. 

Nickov and Gladys watchged the whole thing later that night on a
brandnew large screen tv. 

Bookie Bob recovered months later after his broken rib's, collarbone,
legs and jaw healed. He stayed on and if you head on down to the local 
track you will likly see him limping about and he is sure to have a hot 
tip for you. 

Nickov got his Barbie King 2000 Delux when a very nervous Kmart worker
managed to find him one that had never been picked up from lay-by. 

pt10    Showtime It was early may and the Stiffgrove Annual Show was to
begin on saturday. Already several rows of tents and a ferris wheel had 
gone up on Dame Yakalot Memorial Reserve. 

The Quickly kids were very excited. If there was one thing they loved it
was the Annual Show. By saturday morning their mothers hair had begun 
to grey noticeably. 

" Righto kids, get in the van " said Nickov counting heads as they
passed. They were accompanied by Troll loudly, out from Shady Days for 
the day, who wanted to see the cake exhibits. She was also along to 
assist with some of the kids as they made their way through the crowds. 


Arriving at Dame Yakalot Reserve they found the street full, so parking
on someones front lawn with two wheels in a garden bed, they locked up 
the van and headed for the gates. 

Parked outside the gates sat a Mr Asparagus van which a record 22,986
people were to ignore this year as they made their way inside. Once 
inside they gathered in a knot to decide who was going where. 

With little Rich, Penny and Jenny in tow, Gladys who collected stuffed
animals, keenly set off to the strongman game, where due to years of 
carrying baskets of wet Quickly washing, her bulging arms paid off and 
she always managed to add to her collection. 

Troll Loudly who was particularly fond of cakes of all kinds, set off to
the cake exhibits reluctantly taking little Marky with her. Nickov, 
Bart, Dennis and Benny raced off to see everything else. 

Down row three at a balloon and dart game, leacherous Lenny the carny
was making his speil. 

"Step right up ladies, everyones a winner, pop the ballon and win a
prize! ~ theres a lovely set of balloons right there, tee hee!" he said 
through his bullhorn. " Three darts for two bucks, ya can't lose". 

Carnivale music pumped from speakers on poles and the smells of dagwood
dogs and candyfloss wafted through the air. Smiling people were walking 
and talking, eating and drinking and every few seconds fresh screams 
came from the various rides as they looped the loop or descended on 
their downward arcs. 

Carnies did their earnest best to milk the hell out of the crowds and
their deafening bullhorn speils competed with each other in an ear 
splitting crescendo along sideshow alley. The 'giant ' ferris wheel 
which was not that big and probably not that safe either, could be seen 
turning lazily in the sun on the other side of the reserve. 

Everywhere people wore large brightly colored and ridiculous 'show hats'
and assorted masks and wigs. Some carried stuffed toys which had no 
doubt cost them a small fortune to win on sideshow alley, others a 
mirade of 'things on sticks', blowup baseball bats with M.A.S.H written 
on them along with various 'everyone wins ' crap prizes. 

***************************************** 

Nickov, Bart, Dennis and Benny were passing the pirate ship, Bart and
Dennis wanted a ride. Nickov was lined up at the ticket booth when he 
caught sight of some strategically placed firehoses at the front of the 
ride. 

Suddenly sure this was not a good idea since the boys had just eaten
several dagwood dogs, and Bart, chips and gravy, Nickov tried to 
dissuade them. 

"Ohh please Dad?" they whined in their well rehearsed way. 

"Alright alright, your brother and I will be over there" said Nickov
with a resigned sigh. 

"C'mon Benny, wanna shoot ducks?" 

"Oh yeah beauty Dad" so with one last anxious look at the hoses, off
they went to the shooting gallery. 

*********************************************** 

Troll Loudly arrived with little Marky at the cake exhibit where ogeling
the first prize winner, a delicious looking black forrest cake, she 
sank down against the cabinet and drooled till her lipstick ran. 

"Nana I gotta go, I gotta go now" said little marky dancing about with
his legs crossed desperatly. Looking about the troll spotted a row of 
green porta-loos outside the pavillion. 

" Those green things are toilets" she told Marky "You run along and I'll
come and get you in a minute". 

************************************************* 

Gladys had just rung the bell for the third time and was picking her
prize when the carny said 

" Listen Mrs popeye, why not bugger off and give the kiddies a go eh?".
So after hastily picking her prize Gladys turned round to leave and 
discovered Penny and Jenny gone. 

"Has anyone seen twin girls with pigtails and yellow ribbons?" asked
Gladys alarmed. 

" They went that way, said something about a pony ride" said a man in a
wheelchair. 

"Thankyou" said Gladys and clutching a stuffed dolphin, girraff and cat
along with little Rich, she went off in the indicated direction after 
the twins. 

Down at the pony ride Harry the pony who had a tendency to bite, had
just prior to the show been 'knackered' to quiet him down. He was very 
sore and mightily pissed off. 

*********************************************** 

"That's it!" sreamed an angry duck shoot carny, jumping up and rubbing
his arse. "You gimme $32 bucks and take the kid away, ya got it?" 

"Look I'm sorry mate" said Nickov giving Benny a clip over the ear. "He
didn't mean it, it went off when he put it down". 

Benny had managed to shoot three prizes on the second shelf, knock the
eyes out of two porclain dolls on the top shelf, sadly no ducks at all, 
and shot the carny in the arse as he bent dodging slugs. Nickov was not 
at all convinced the last was unintentional. Nickpov paid up and it was 
time to go. 

********************************************** 

Sid viscious (not the rock star) a homeless dero who wandered around
Stiffgrove and went to the show every year, was fast asleep in one of 
the porta-loos having eaten several discarded dagwood dogs and consumed 
the better part of a bottle of cheap cooking sherry. 

Having had lunch he had decided to have a nap before he was discovered.
Sid was called 'viscious' due to his alarming habit of hurling abuse at 
anyone who approached him. Since he lived at a local bus stop, this was 
a regular thing for people on their way to work. 

He must be finished by now, thought the Troll marching over to the
porta-loos. 

"Are you finished yet child?" she roared knocking on the door with her
hamlike fist. 

"I'm over here Nana" said little Marky behind her. 

The door flew open revealing a rednosed, bleary and parrotwise Sid
viscious. That horrid deralict from the bus shelter, thought the troll. 


" Whazit, what the f*ck?" slurred Sid waving the sherry bottle. 

They made a run for it, the Trolls garish high heels slowed her down but
since Sid had one eye shut so he didn't see double, they got a head 
start. 

*********************************************** 

Nickov and Benny arrived at the now quiet pirate ship to find several
roadies busy with the fire hoses. A large mob of angry riders, having 
themselves been hosed, were gathered around the ticket booth 
complaining loudly. 

Bart and Dennis appeared looking rather contrite from behind a nearby
tent. They had given up the dagwood dogs, chips and gravy while at the 
very top of the vertical pirate ship, dumping on all those below while 
managing to come out unscathed. 

"Every year Boys" said Nickov sadly shaking his head. 

********************************************** 

Penny and Jenny had found their way to the pony rides and bought tokens.
Penny was being led around in circles when a starting gun went off next 
door at 'The rat race' ,run by booky Bob Blewit. A gimmicky game where 
white rats with numbers on their backs were raced through a maze, and 
could be bet on. 

Harry the Shetland decided in his equine way that he had enough and
kicking down a light barricade he took off into the crowd, frothing at 
the mouth and carrying little Penny, clinging on for dear life, with 
him. 

Gladys and little Rich arrived at the pony ride to find Jenny
complaining bitterly that her pony did not run too! 

"I'm awfully sorry , said Martha Muckraker the pony women, Harry's been
a bit jittery lately" 

"What?, said Gladys, suddenly spying some yellow ribbons galloping out
of sight, never mind" she said . 

" He likes his ears rubbed" said Martha helpfully behind them. 

********************************************** 

Nickov and the boys had split up to find the others when Nickov and
Benny were spotted by 'Bronco Bill' ,the carny at the mechanical bull. 

"$50 bucks if ya stay on for three minutes, c'mon Dad show the boy how
it's done" 

"You can do it Dad" shouted Benny in excitement ,so $5 lighter and a bit
apprehensive, Nickov climbed aboard. 

********************************************* 

With the ground being soft from rain the night before and the trolls
high heels digging in, they were losing their lead on Sid viscious, who 
by now had something entirly different on his mind, having been 
polishing off the rest of the sherry as he went. 

Little marky spotting the horses on the merry~go~round pleaded for a
ride. Troll Loudly, badly needing a rest and desperate to avoid the 
repulsive Sid, with grace and agility belying her bulk, hoisted Marky 
neatly into the saddle of a passing horse and jumped aboard. 

Sid after several failed attempts to get on edged his way around the
ride with one eye shut, hunting for his quarry. Sids horrible 
countenance passed eight or nine times before the ride slowed to a 
stop. 

Trying to work out where she had last seen him, Troll Loudly and little
Marky made their way to the opposite side to get off. Unfortunatly they 
miscalculated. 

"There ya are me lovely" slurred Sid with his sherry breath ,right in
her face. They fled to the Ghost Train. 

*********************************************** 

Gladys, Rich and Jenny were now on the ferris wheel trying to spot Penny
on the runaway pony from on high. 

"There he is Mummy" said Jenny ,pointing to the small pony and the tiny
Penny galloping away towards the exhibit hall...... 

A small girl on a pony came galloping towards the man in the wheelchair.


"Hey your mother's looking for you" said the man, bravely grabbing for
the reins. 

The reins being way too long, they caught over both handles of the chair
and both man and his chair were carried away bumping crazily, into the 
wool and vegetable pavillion. Harry was not stopping. 

************************************************* 

Bart having been thrown out of the hall of mirrors for chucking
'browneyes' found himself lost in the showbag pavillion. Dennis had 
found the dodgem cars and was having the time of his life. 

Suddenly a small girl in another car who had a kewpy doll on a stick
passed in the opposite direction and the doll caught Dennis in the eye. 
Dennis ,unable to see lost control and ran over the roadies foot. 
Screaming in pain, he was run over again as Dennis turned the wheel the 
other way. 

There was a fifteen car pileup, the ride was stopped and Dennis and the
roadie were taken to first aid. 

********************************************** 

Reggie the roadie on the big wheel was changing gears to slow the ride
when he was distracted by the shouts of a small boy and the outraged 
bellows of a large woman being persued by a dero with love on his mind. 


Grabbing the wrong lever whilst looking the other way, the gears jammed
with a horrible grinding noise and the wheel ground to a jarring halt, 
shaking dangerously. Gladys, Rich and Jenny were naturually right at 
the top. 

Gladys broke out in a sweat. She had a terrible fear of heights and had
only agreed to ride out of desperation and because Reggie had been so 
persuasive. 

Looking down she noticed a Mcambulance had arrived near the wool
pavillion. She sat very still and thought about her valium at home. 

********************************************** 

Sid had collapsed and lost his 'Lovely' who was now jammed tight in a
car half way through the Ghost Train. Voices laughed and screamed, 
skeletons jumped out and pumpkins lit up with halloween faces. 

The young roadie inside whose job it was to add scare, was just reaching
out when Marky saw him first and screaming, hurled his toffee~apple at 
the apparition. Hit in the face with a half chewed apple, the roadie 
fell over landing on Troll Loudly who screamed very loudly indeed 
before passing out. 

********************************************* 

Nickov was up to 2.20 sec when Bronco Bill, sweating in anticipation of
possibly losing $50 bucks ,slipped on the speed control pushing the 
bull to top speed, never used before. 

Nickov now whipping around at 250 r.p.m ,eyes watering and his red face
spreading back from the centrifugal 'G' forces at play, was thrown 
about like a rag doll unable to fall off because his feet were caught 
in the stirrups. The crowd whipped into a frenzy of excitement waved 
their money in the air shouting encouragement and Nickov won the money. 


When the bull slowed down Nickov was carted away to first aid where he
awoke to find Dennis with an eye patch and a roadie having both ankles 
plastered. 

Bart had bought a few showbags and managed to 'find' a large armful. He
was just coming out of the showbag hall when he spotted two ambos 
carrying his Nana on a stretcher and Marky running alongside. 

*********************************************** 

Sid viscious recovered and found his way into the wool and veg pavillion
when he was confronted by a charging pony carrying a small girl. 

The wheelchair man had fortunatly been thrown clear when the chairs
footrest had wedged in a giant pumpkin and been abruptly halted. The 
reins had snapped and the man was hurled into the centenary of wool 
display. 

As Harry approached, Sid who was even meaner took a wild swing with the
now empty sherry bottle managing to score a direct hit between the eyes 
and Harry went down in a heap, Penny was thrown off but unhurt and the 
crowd cheered loudly. 

A small white haired man in a white coat nearby sighed and recapped a
whopping great syringe, looking rather dissappointed. A cheer went up 
from the crowd and Sid smiled and passed out. 

*********************************************** 

Gladys and the kids were finally freed along with the other wheel riders
by the S.E.S crew using a mobile crane. 

Reggie was fired and had his bullhorn confiscated. 

The Ghost Train roadie was questioned about a large unconscious woman
who had to be cut from the rear car using the jaws of life. He pleaded 
innocent and returned to his job wearing a motorbike helmet incase of 
further toffee~apples. 

After hearing of the damages in the wool and veg pavillion, Martha
Muckraker retired and Harry became 68 jars of craft glue. 

Gladys caught up with the rest of the family in the first aid tent and
after checking on the troll, hearded the damaged Quickly's out to the 
van. 

On the way out they passed Bronco Bill who was busy greasing the
stirrups of the mechanical bull. He looked up, gave them a guilty smile 
and a wink and went back to his work. 

The duck shoot carny was on his roof aiming a slug gun at Nickov. 

"Keep movin" he said as they passed. 

Gladys saw a lovely large panda on the strongman game and was looking
keen till the carny caught her eye and shook his head. She changed her 
mind. 

Back at the van they found a nasty letter from Ms Doris Evergreen whose
garden they were parked in, threatening to have the van towed. Nickov 
pulled away pulping her pansys and mashing her marigolds. 

Troll Loudly was taken to Mchospital where she was kept for observation
before being sent home to shady days. 

Leacherous Lenny was arrested by sherriff Buttplug and deputy Nimrod the
following day for sexual harrassment, after 'accidently' grabbing a 
young girls arse while showing her how to throw darts. 

The wheelchair man sued the Stiffgrove Council when he got out of
hospital for damages sustained during the pony ride through the wool 
and veg pavillion, which saw him dragged through several different veg 
displays, one owned by 'Biddle mountain oranges', rendered unconscious 
by a giant pumpkin(not the one that stopped him) and finally hurled 
into the wool display where he suffered horrendous allergic reactions. 
His wheelchair dissappeared. 

The Quickly's got home having scored 23 showbags, a stuffed girraff and
dolphin(the cat went missing)Nickov's $50 bucks and a delicious looking 
black forrest cake, handed to Gladys along with the troll's handbag, by 
the ambos in first aid, still with blue ribbon attached. 

Sid found himself a few more discarded dagwood dogs and filling his
grubby pockets, wheeled himself out the gate. 

"I almost 'ad her" he told the stuffed black and white cat on his lap. 

" Well that was fun 'eh kids?" said Nickov 

"yeah!!" they cheered. 

"Can't wait till next year!" 

Gladys's hair went a few shades greyer, time for a valium. 

pt11 interupted Journey Far out in the country on a winding road late at
night, the Quicklys bongo van cut through the dark with highbeams 
blazing. They were on their way to the small town of Bedford for the 
school holidays. They were going to visit Gladys's best friend Raleen, 
who was now called Rainbow Moon since joining the local hippy commune. 

It was about 11.45 pm. The little Quicklys had fallen asleep one by one
till the last cries of 'Are we there yet' had ceased altogether. Nickov 
was 'gettin jiggy with it' to an old tape once belonging to the vans 
last owner, the Guru. 

He was puffing on a joint which he claimed was research, to help him get
into character for the commune. He was wearing 'happy pants', a tiedyed 
t-shirt and beads. Cool man! 

"Daddy...Daddy cool" Nickov sang along with the song, till Gladys
elbowed him in the ribs. 

"Knock it off Nick, you sound like a bull with its balls in a vice, give
us a toke!" 

"What?" ,as far as Nickov knew, Gladys, like a certain president, had
never inhaled. He watched as Gladys inhaled the joint down to her 
fingers in one hit and casually tossed it out the window. The dark 
shapes of trees, hills and the occasional sheep passed by on either 
side and they began to talk. 

"Since when?" asked Nickov. 

"Oh must be about twenty years Nick" said Gladys giggling. She confided
she had once been into the scene but had given it up after a really bad 
acid trip. It had been a really good trip untill she had arrived home. 
Her Mother, Troll Loudly and her Father, who was at the time nearly 
ready for Valium Vines (Tally Ho old chap!) had ganged up to give her 
the earbashing of a lifetime for coming home so late. Troll Loudly had 
met her at the door wearing rollers in her hair, a green facial 
treatment and minus her false teeth, not to mention old Fotherington 
with his putter. Bad bad trip. 

"Hey Nick, said Gladys pull over" 

so Nickov pulled the van onto the shoulder. They were in the middle of
nowhere, it was pitch dark and a million stars twinkled over head. 

"Shhh, said Gladys giggling again, look" 

A few meters away in the paddock stood the large forms of five sleeping
cows. 

"C'mon" she said getting out. They climbed over a short rickety fence
and approached the cows,who didn't stir. 

"On the count of three, push" said Gadys. They gave the nearset cow a
hearty shove. It seemed to be rigid and fell over sideways hitting the 
next cow which in turn hit the next. Bellowing and mooing with fright 
all five fell over like dominos, big eyes wide and accusing. Laughing 
histerically they climbed back in the van and went on their way. 
~Bastards!~ thought the cows behind them. 

The moon rose a little higher as the Quicklys sped on their way.
Suddenly, the engine died, the tape and the lights went out and they 
rolled to a stop. Brilliant white light bathed the van from above. It 
was just past midnight. 

******************************************** 

The Quicklys woke up in a white room which was brightly lit but had no
apparent light source. The ceiling, walls and floor were seemless. 

"Where the fuck are we?" asked a very confused Nickov. 

Just then a small window appeared in one side and a silver tray laden
with cheese burgers popped through followed by a gold glittery arm 
and....Elvis? 

"You folks like a burger?, Momma liked them!" 

Elvis was yanked away dissappearing back through the window and a small
alien appeared. 

"Sorry about him, it said, he's all shook up!" 

A second small alien appeared. 

"Yes sorry about that, he's not supposed to be running loose," said
Alien 2 giving the first a decidedly dirty look. 

"That was really good shit!" said Gladys giggling. 

"You are onboard a scouting ship sixty thousand feet above your car, we
have been given an assignment to study the survival tactics of people 
from all over your world, and He chose you" said Alien 2 pointing at 
the other. 

"Are you gonna impregnate Mum with an alien fetus and do weird sexual
experiments on us?" asked Benny. 

"Told you we should have kept that Mulder guy!" said Alien 1. 

"We want 'Happy meals' " said Penny and Jenny. 

"You better let us go, said Nickov, irritated at little Rich and Marky
crying, Quicklys and bad luck go together like....like..." 

"Elvis and cheese burgers?" said Alien 1 

"Yes" said Nickov, catching a movement from the corner of his eye. 

"Bart, leave that alone!" said Gladys. Bart had found a depression in
the wall and pushed it. Too late. Alarms went off, lights flashed and 
the wall slid open to reveal the pilot playing pacman. A tall smooth 
white cylinder opened to reveal a bewildered Harold Holt and another 
revealing Malcom Frasers trousers. 

"He did that" said Alien 2 regarding the trousers and pointing to the
other. Alien 2 pointed a blue beam at Bart and he froze like a statue. 

"Can I get one of them?" asked Gladys giggling. 

"We have been tracking you for some time using a device we left in your
bingo... 

"Bongo" said Nickov 

"Yes bongo, said Alien 2, anyway we accidently left it after we released
Mr Guru, he said looking accusingly at Alien 1, we want to know how you 
escaped the fire at the mini 8" 

"You can't just go around kidnapping people" said Nickov angrily. 

"Atleast we don't go around pushing sleeping cows" said Alien 1 giving a
lipless giggle. 

"You aint nothin but a hotdog, delicious and your mine" Elvis sang,
somewhere unseen. 

Both aliens rolled their large eyes exasperated. Alien 2 froze the rest
of the Quicklys with his blue beam. 

"We are NOT keeping them, we'll scub their memory and set them down,
said Alien 2, if word of this gets out we'll be the laughing stock!" 

*********************************************** 

Gladys and Nickov woke up in the van as the engine started and the
lights came on. Daddy cool suddenly blared from the tape deck. 

"Why are we stopped?" asked Gladys. 

"Don't know !!, said Nickov" 

So they pulled back onto the road and went on their way none the wiser.
A little later they rounded a bend and passed a dark haired hitch hiker 
wearing what looked like a gold glittery suit. 

"Nah, they said, couldn't be!" Just then a bright light flashed in the
back of the van and was gone again. 

"Can you smell cheese burgers Glad?" ask Nickov. 

*High above, a very bright star suddenly shot away to the north but
nobody noticed. 

" Cut it out, said Alien 2 to Alien 1, next time I'll choose and no
singers!" ~end~ 

pt12 A River Runs Over It! It was about ten in the morning when the
Quicklys bongo drew up alongside the twin bowsers of the petrol station 
at Bedford, population 570 . The petrol station appeared to be also a 
general store, fruit shop, and post office. it even had three poker 
machines. It was run by a family called Popadopolis whose small orange 
orchard could be seen behind. 

The clan Popadopolis were happy to see the bongo pull up outside, they
had counted nine customers before the doors opened. After dusting off 
the merchandise and turning on the poker machines, they were ready to 
do buisness. 

"Welcome to my store, how can I help you?" said Popadopolis senior
appearing behind Nickov with the petrol cap in his hand and the hose 
from the bowser pumping furiously into the van. 

"Er....fill it up" said Nickov heading for the bathroom, leaving Gladys
and the kids to go inside. Nickov thought the guys face was oddly 
familiar but could not place it. 

"It's you!, said an astonished Dimitry, The baby swapper, you got shot
at, I drive you cab, you remember me?" Gladys did indeed. 

"I thought you retired to an orange plantation!" 

"Er...yeah well, it's out the back, said an embarressed Dimitry, you
still got the steppe goat?" 

The 'plantation' turned out to be about thirty straggly trees behind the
small fibro home next to the shop where he now lived with his parents. 
Dimitry had not quite got so much compensation as he had dreamt he 
might, as he dozed at the airport so long ago. 

************************************************************************
*** 


Waving farewell to the Popadopolis's and carrying a bag of oranges from
the orchard, known as' Biddle Mountain', though the land was as flat as 
the van's spare tyre, the Quicklys set off on the last leg of their 
journey. As they passed through the town Nickov took note of the towns 
only pub, The Bedford Tavern , to which he planned to return. 

There were a few other shops including a barbers/beauty salon called The
Scissor Wizard, which was run by Arty Jones, and his wife. Arty was 
also Bedford council's gardener and he sometimes got his clippers mixed 
up. His wife Agatha was a self taught beautician and judging from the 
photos in the shop's window, she had a lousy teacher! 

Further along they passed a school, a take away and a bakery called The
Messiah's Loaves, the smell of hot bread prompted another stopover 
where after buying two dozen rolls, each with a crusty crucifix ontop, 
they were given a bit of a bible bashing and some religious 
pamphlets.There was also a tiny Bedford Bowling Club. There were no 
greens apparent except for the grass growing along the edges of nearby 
Vegetable Creek but they did have twenty poker machines, all outdated 
'one arm bandits' and a regular 'blue rinse' clientel. 

Finally on the very edge of town was the Vegetable Creek
Hospital/sanitorium, where judging by the bars on the windows and the 
spikes atop the fences, they did not like to let them out, although 
most of the 'vegetables' were the wheelchair variety. A small 
chemist/shop called 'Bedford Farmacy' spelt with an 'f', sold things 
like sheep drench and rubber gloves with very long arms among their 
cough syrups and heart pills . These gave way to the open road and the 
Quicklys were on their way. 

************************************************************************
****** 


The bongo bumped its way down a long dirt road after turning right at a
sign that said 'Woodstock Man!!!' , Two caravans sat side by side 
surrounded by various shacks and humpys and a giant water tank on its 
side was apparently the head lodge. Nearby in a paddock could be seen 
Vegetable creek, which wound its way through the scrub and was a 
watering hole for a few wild kangaroos and several hundred Romanola 
cows and one bull with a limp. 

Rainbow moon came running out of the tank with beads in her hair and an
old pair of jeans. 

"Gladys Dunn , it's been so long, it's good to see you, are they all
yours?" she asked apon noticing the Quickly littles. 

"Yes, sighed Gladys, this is my husband Nickov Quickly" she said
indicating nickov who was openly staring at Rainbows twin moons. 

"Great name, said Rainbow oblivious, both vans are empty and their
running off a generater but there's no running water so theres a shovel 
around somewhere" 

A discordant and nerve jangling version of 'stairway to heaven' was
being wrung out of a guitar by Rainbows partner Soul Daddy ,between 
puffs on a bong made from a cows skull. 

************************************************************************
****** 


The little Quicklys, never having been outside Stiffgrove, ran off in
all directions to explore this rural haven. They had just lugged all 
their gear into the vans and sat down when the first drops of rain 
began to fall. 

"Shit, said Rainbow who had just hung out her only other pair of jeans
to dry, it hasn't rained here in five years you know" 

"It's the Quickly curse, said Gladys, dont worry it'll dry up when we
go" 

"Been to Bedford then?" asked Soul Daddy biting into a crusty crucifix
roll. 

So they sat up late into the night passing the cow skull back and forth
and catching up with the news. Outside in the field something lit up 
and Gladys ,Rainbow and Nickov ran to the window to look.A bright beam 
shone down from something in the sky and a hefty bush could be seen 
rising upwards where it dissappeared followed by a small humanoid 
figure. 

"Aliens, said Rainbow, we left them some seeds once but their not into
growing their own the lazy bastards" Nickov and Gladys had an 
unexplained sense of deja vu but said nothing. 

They settled down for the night and sometime a few hours later there was
a brief flash like lightening and eighty seven sleeping cows toppled 
like dominoes. High above something shot off into the cloud cover 
unseen. The next morning found a very wet rural haven indeed and a 
swiftly flowing vegetable creek. 

************************************************************************
******** Nickov, Gladys and kids along with Rainbow Moon headed off to B
edford for some supplies. The Bedford Bowling Club hove into veiw throug
h the pelting rain and Rainbow and Gladys asked to be dropped off while 
Nickov and the kids went shopping. Nickov and kids were in the Bedford B
utchers, another mixed buisness, where they hunted among agricultural su
pplies and long armed rubber gloves for what they wanted. 


The little Quicklys spotted some baseball caps with 'I've Been To
Bedford' on them so seven bright red caps were added to the basket 
along with their meat, soap, shampoo and a few bottles of vodka and 
soft drink. Along the way to pick up the girls they stopped in at The 
Messiah's Loaves for some more rolls where the proprieters were happy 
to see them back and thrust several more pamphlets at them. 

Meanwhile Gladys had hit a jackpot but in her excitement had torn the
arm off the 'Queen of the nile' machine and the win was forfeit for 
damages. Rainbow had almost converted two poker biddies, Lilly 
gin-n-tonic and Martha de-menthe ,when the manager, not having had such 
excitement since 1973 had a heart attack. The ambulance had been called 
and the paramedics had arrived and carted him off to hospital. 
Subsequently the club had to be closed for the first time in years and 
people were not happy. 

The van door slid open and Gladys and Rainbow jumped in on the run. The
van was quickly surrounded by 18 angry poker biddies who rocked the van 
and pummled it with their handbags trying to overturn it. Nickov took 
off and the kids cheered. Looking in the rearveiw mirror as the biddies 
fell behind, there was one last thump as Martha de-menthe hurled her 
handbag at them. 

************************************************************************
******** 


Back at the commune,despite the rain, the kids ran off to play and
Nickov fired up the b.b.q Out in the paddock Bullet the bull limped 
about trying to find a dry place. Bullet was a victim of one of Soul 
Daddys forgotten toilet holes, which he had fallen in while chasing a 
curvy romanola. Bullet had just spotted something, a bright red 
something making alot of commotion. The red thing was a t-shirt with 
'Bart' written on it, topped off by a red cap. 

Bored already, little Bart was annoying the cows, throwing clods of mud
at them and yelling alot of rude things about their anatomy. 
Infuriated, Bullet charged. Head down and horns at the ready, Bullet 
aimed at the red thing and limping as fast as he could, set out to gore 
the hell out of it. 

With Nickov expertly burning the snags, Soul went off to the tank for
some more wacky backy, he was fumbling around inside minding his own 
buisness when a terrified Bart came pounding up the hill with a very 
angry Bull limping fast behind. Bart, approaching the tank,zig zagged 
behind it on his way up the nearset tree. Bullet, further enraged that 
the red thing had disappeared, continued on his path bellowing loudly. 

Soul Daddy had decided to teach Nickov 'stairway to heaven' and was just
fetching his guitar when he was deafened by something hitting the tank. 
The tank rolled off its railway sleepers and with Bullets weight behind 
it, Soul found himself inside a giant washing machine on his very bumpy 
way down to vegetable creek at the bottom of the hill. 

Nickov, satisfied at the state of the snags took the meat inside and
went to find the kids. It was getting dark and the rain was getting 
heavier. Vegetable creek became vegetable river, rising steadily up the 
hill towards the commune. Inside the tank, Soul regained consciousness 
and found himself floating away. So using a torch, he rolled himself a 
joint and sitting in the open end, sat crosslegged twanging away at 
'stairway to heaven' as he was carried towards Bedford. 
************************************************************************
****** No-one seemed to notice the missing Soul daddy, and certainly nob
ody missed 'stairway to heaven' so Rainbow and the Quicklys sat down to 
eat. A short time later the lights went out. Taking torches they went to
 investigate. Vegetable creek had risen up to the generater and flooded 
it. The humpys were carried away and the other van had begun to float so
 the bongo, its tyers almost covered, was quickly loaded up and they all
 headed to Bedford. 


Outside the Bedford hospital two orderlys were returning in their
ambulance when they spotted Soul riding in the tank and playing a 
guitar. Thinking him an escapee they set off to nab him. The tank hit a 
fence crossing the creek and with other debris behind it including a 
fallen tree, it was pushed up onto the bank. 

"Right, come along with us now mate" they said grabbing both Souls arms.


"Wild ride man!" said Soul Daddy 

Seeing Souls red eyes they decided he needed some medication and took
him into the hospital, where they jabbed him with a syringe full of 
'happy hour' and he became a straight jacketed resident. The rain 
continued to fall and vegetable creek peaked at 15.4 metres. 

Rainbow and the Quicklys spent the night at the Bedford Tavern, where
gladys managed to tear the arm off a card machine. Nickov drank the 
tiny bar dry of vodka and satarted on the beer and the kids ran amok in 
the pool room where 'Benny the ripper'  ruined three tables before they 
were all kicked out the next morning, by which time the water had 
subsided enough for them to leave. The bongo pulled away, seven little 
red hats waving as they went. 

Three days later Soul Daddy was evicted for mangling 'stairway to
heaven' once too often. The manager of the Bowling Club never recovered 
and the eighteen poker biddies chipped in to buy it and renamed it 'The 
Queen Of The Nile'. Lilly gin-n-tonic became the new manager and Martha 
de-menthe became the bouncer. 

Dimitry hit the major jackpot at The Queen Of The Nile and Bought a new
taxi , founding The Bedford Cab Co. 

Arty the scissor wizard retired after an unfortunate accident when he
got his clippers mixed up and gave a man a 'Hedgecut'. The man was 
taken to Bedford outpatients to have his left ear sown back on, where 
he entertained the other patients in the waiting room with 'stairway to 
heaven'. 

The Messiah's Loaves shut down and it's people disbanded after a
wholgrain crucifix loaf caught fire and the bakery burnt down in an 
inferno, fed by a large amount of pamphlets. 

Gladys, Nickov and kids were well on their way back to Stiffgrove. 

"What happened to this cow Dad?" said Bart holding up a cow skull with a
piece of garden hose potruding. 

A gold glittery arm stuck on a strip of cheese burger wrapper and its
owner stood back to admire his work on the sign. 'Bedford ~ population 
571 

"Well since my baby left me, I found a new place to
dwell"................... 

End 

Pt 13 Revelations It was Friday the thirteenth, Nickov's 39th birthday.
It began with a loud welcome to the day at five am, when the alarm 
clock went off for some reason, probably Bart. 

"Good morning Stiffgrove, this is radio 2ch comin' at you from the crack
of dawn pre...cisley, yes indeed folks, it's a cold , wet and windy one 
today, top temperature just 7c ~Brrr! Don't touch that button, just 
tune in to Leapin' Lynal's Morning Show!!!!" 

Nickov hit the button with an empty coffee mug. The expensive alarm
clock shattered into a handful of pieces but the cheap mug survived. 

"Li'l bastard!" said a sleepy Gladys, from habit, oh well, happy
birthday anyway Nick, she said, giving a bleary Nickov a peck on the 
cheek, I'll make us a cuppa!" 

Nickov, knowing he'd never get back to sleep now, fluffed up his pillows
and propped himself up to wait for his coffee. He turned on the t.v. 
with the remote controll from the bedside drawers. ~click~ 

"Thats right Barry, as you can see weve got galeforce winds and
torrential rains, and the temperature is just a chilly 7c out here" 
said a windblown reporter from under an umbrella. ~click~ 

"We have reports just in, of major storm damage over a wide area which
seems to be concentrated over Stiffgrove and surrounding estates, S.E.S 
workers are working around the clock securing roofs, blackouts have 
been widely reported and the weather beauro says residents of outlying 
estates can expect a blackout any"..................... 

Out went the power! 

"Oh why do you mock me lord?" said Nickov sadly. 

" Probably because it's so amusing!, nothing personal I'm sure" 

Nickov was not used to hearing answers when he spoke to himself. He sat
up to look at the radio bits. He put a couple to his ear but didn't 
hear a thing. Why does it have to be a shitty day today? he wondered. 

"Hey, I don't do the weather, it's on auto , ok" 

That would be right, thought Nickov, and today just happens to be on
'Full Wash Cycle' right?...wait a minute... I'm going loopy, thought 
Nickov, hearing voices now! 

"Oh good, thought I'd lost the connection there for a bit!, Happy
birthday anyway" 

Nickov wondered if Gladys still had the number of Valium Vines. 

"Well, hows it going there anyway?" 

"Fine, just fine, said Nickov out loud, Nothing out of the ordinary,
till now" 

"Well, it's bound to happen sooner or later" 

"Right, sure" said nickov, wheres that bloody number he thought, "Your
not going to tell me to axe murder the family are you?" 

"Wouldn't advise it, no, very messy buisness that!" 

"Say, your quite reasonable for a crazy-voice-in-the-head!, said Nickov,
they usually tell you things like that, you read about it!" 

"Er..shoudn't you be very pale and afraid about now?, they usually are
as soon as they see me!" 

"I can't see you", said nickov thumbing through Gladys's address book,
'V' valium..... 

"Oops, sorry about that, I've been meaning to get that fixed" said a
skeletal figure in a robe, appearing by the bed with his sythe, That 
better?" 

Nickov went very pale indeed. 

"I don't suppose you could come back another time?" asked Nickov,
crossing his fingers. 

"I'm afraid not, I'm booked solid for the next few millenia" said Death.


"Oh that would be fine, sometime around four?" asked Nickov hopefully. 

"Lets see, said Death flicking through an old book, no, sorry ,it says
right here~ Nickov Quickly # friday 13th june 2002, about six A.M. 

"But its only five forty five!!" said Nickov 

"Hey buddy, it says 'about', I'm on a tight schedule here, no stalling!"


There was a whoosh of air and the sythe sliced away. 

"Right, thats that then, you want a lift or not?" said Death. 

Nickov looked down and saw a very pale double of himself lying in bed. 

"Does this mean I'm?....... 

"Dead, yes!" 

"I think there's been some mistake!" said an adament Nickov. 

"I didn't write it buddy, take it up with the Author!, lets go" 

Nickov and the spectre of Death step through the wall and vanish.
Nickov's body lays propped on his pillows, his eyes are closed and 
Gladys's address book silently slips from his hand onto the doona. It 
is five five forty nine A,M. 

"Here ya go Nick, sweet and milky just how ya like it!, Nick? Wake up
and have ya coffee for christs sake! Nick? " 

It is at point that Gladys, unable to wake him, realises that Nickov is
gone. She lays her head on his chest and weeps quietly so as not to 
wake the kids. 

"There you go, gotta go now, got one at Shady Days for six fifteen!" 

Death left Nickov at the biggest set of gates he had ever seen, and
vanished once more. 

"Name?" said another voice. 

"Nickov, Quickly, said Nickov, are you God?" 

"Nah, Im an angel Dude!, You got an appointment?" 

"Apparently, said Nickov ,six A.M.?" 

"Right, sorry dude, the computers down, cruise right on in, I'll tell
HIM your here!" 

The gates buzzed open and Nickov stepped through. Everything went white.


"OH HELLO NICKOV, THANKS FOR COMING!" 

The words were like thunder and they appeared in print on the whiteness
beneath Nickov's feet as they were spoken. There came a thunderous 
slurping sound followed by a hollow boom as if a giant empty coffee mug 
were being set down. 

"Um..God, I think theres been a mistake, you see it's my birthday
and..... 

"OH DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, IT WAS GOING TO BE RATHER HUMILIATING ANYWAY,
CONSIDER IT A FAVOUR" 

Nickov jumped aside as the word 'favour' appeared beneath his feet. 

"Well actually I was hoping to see some grandkids, maybe just another
score years or so, maybe bow out just short of Shady Days" said Nickov 
with an involantary shudder. 

"BUT I'VE ANOTHER HILARIOUS FUNERAL EPISODE WORKED OUT AND YOU DO GET
THE SHINY SILVER CASKET WITH THE HOOD ORNAMENT ON IT" 

Nickov jumped again to avoid the word 'casket' and winced at the
thunderous slurping again. BOOM went the unseen giant mug. 

"Actually I was thinking cremation, scattered ashes off a mountain top
at sunset kind of thing!, Much later!!" he added. 

"HMM,I COULD GET ALOT OF SLAPSTICK OUT OF AN URN!" 

Nickov stepped smartly to the right, narrowly missing a giant
exclamation point. 

"My whole life was slapstick, said Nickov meekly, couldn't you spare a
little dignity after death?" 

"I MUCH PREFER SLAPSTICK THOUGH< AND YOUR A FICTIONAL CHARACTER ANYWAY"
~SLURP - BOOM~ 

"You mean I'm nothing but a novel distraction?, just words on a page?"
asked Nickov. 

"YES I'M AFRAID I MADE YOU UP" ~SLURP - BOOM~ 

"Then why do I have to die?" asked Nickov pleading as he knelt on the
word 'up' with his hands claspsed together. 

"I'VE GOT WRITERS BLOCK, said the voice in a conspirational tone, I JUST
CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING MORE TO PUT YOU THROUGH SO I'M LETTING YOU GO, 
BUT YOU WERE THE FUNNIEST CHARACTER I EVER CREATED; THE STEPPEGOAT WAS 
FUNNY THOUGH EH?,NO HARD FEELINGS THEN?" 

"So I go to heaven now?, paradise an all that?" asked Nickov hopefully. 

" WELL..ER..YOU REALLY JUST CEASE TO EXIST, EXCEPT WHEN PEOPLE AT
STORIES.COM ARE READING ABOUT YOU, NOT SO BAD IS IT?" 

"But YOU have to have more, I mean, how about the kids, Penny and Jenny
getting pregnant, Bart driving his first car, theres heaps really and I 
could hang about a while that way!!" said Nickov running across the 
words 'stories.com' towards the source of the voice. ~SLURP - SLURP- 
BOOM~ 

"HMM, YOU MIGHT BE SMARTER THAN I MADE YOU, I HADN'T THOUGHT OF THAT,
OK, HERE'S THE DEAL....... 

********************************************************************** 

"Hey Dad!!" yelled Bart running into the bedroom. 

"AHHHH! ya little bastard ya scared the crap out of me, I was just
having the weirdest dream!" said Nickov waking abruptly. 

"Oh Nick, I thought..... I love you so much!" blurted Gladys. 

"Dad, Mum , the kitchens on fire!" 

"BART!!!" said two angry senior Quicklys. 

By the time the fire was put out and the last of the S.E.S workers had
left having tied a tarpoulin over the gaping hole in the roof, and the 
power finally came back on, Nickov collapsed exausted on the bed. 

Here ya go Nick, said Gladys handing him a bottle of vodka from their
wardrobe, Happy birthday love" 

Nickov filled a beer stein and lived to see another day!. 


   


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