Crackerjack

The thrust of what I think

represents an exciting and fantastic opportunity

for this very ancient club.

And I think, I might say, you're in this position

because of some very sensible decisions

that you've obviously made in the past.

So much of the hard work is done.

You've already got your liquor licence,

you've got your car park.

You're sitting on what I believe to be

the best bit of blue-chip real estate

available in town.

Now, all of this is achievable once we inject some capital.

And here, I think, in this package,

you've got the lot, basically.

You've got your piano bar there,

you've got your brasserie, you've got your carvery,

you've got a sports bar here with the big screens.

You've got an indoor waterfall there in the foyer.

What's this room for?

Could be anything. Maybe a conference centre.

It's got 172 power points.

Has it?

It's for pokies, isn't it?

Obviously that's one option, but...

I don't think we should get too bogged down in the detail.

Think about the indoor waterfall.

Indoor bloody waterfall?

- I'm disgusted with the government's decision

to set up free heroin clinics.

Free heroin for druggies?!

Hmm, good point. They're just dirty people...

Hey, mate? Hey.

Arsehole!

Where'd you learn to drive, you hat... wearing fool?

On horseback?!

You stupid old goat!

Parking officers - chapel street.

Parking officers - chapel street.

Idiots.

You don't think we're overreacting, Eileen?

Something had to go, Len.

And the ladies insist we keep the urn.

There'll be complaints. Just for a change.

Well, we're aware of our financial position.

What about pennant?

We'll use the fridge in the kitchen, Len.

What about trifle day?

You've seen the electricity bill?

Oh, well, it probably won't matter this Saturday, anyway.

Eh?

Allan called - he's busted his hip.

- Again? - Yeah.

Poor bugger's in st Vincent's.

I'll have a whip-round - organise a fruit platter.

The upshot is we can't field a team.

There must be someone. Well, I'm blowed if I know.

Herb Johnson?

Oh, um, arthritis is playing up.

Neville Walker?

Deceased.

Albert Jackson?

Albert. Jackson?

Oh, um... moved up to the gold coast.

Sid reils?

Oh...

What about Jack Simpson?

Who? Jack Simpson.

Says here he's been a member since 1996.

Yeah? Who the hell's Jack Simpson?

How does “go fuck yourself' sound?

Come on, Jack. I've had four parking fines this week.

And you've got three parks. All I need is one.

That's fine, Pete, but what about me

and what about my needs?

Yeah, alright then.

I might just join that club and get my own permit.

Yeah, good luck.

Is Jack Simpson there, please?

Um, I see.

Um, thanks, anyway.

G'day, Jack.

Yeah, yeah, hand it over.

There's your permit.

Pleasure doing business with you, George.

Sorry, my mistake.

Silly old coots.

Remind me to do something about the car park

at our next general meeting, Eileen.

It's supposed to be for members only.

- Dave? Mate, great news.

Cleaned up the kitchen?

Ah, give me a break. I'm a busy fella.

Yeah, right.

No, I've just heard your three favourite words, my friend.

Snap transport strike.

So how much are you gonna charge tomorrow

for the car parks?

Mate, if you have to ask you probably can't afford it.

Here it is.

Newsreader: Tomorrow's transport strike

set to go ahead following the failure of crisis talks

between the government and the union.

Chaos is expected...

Whoa, yeah. You little beauty!

Oh, great. Great.

Now, I'm gonna have to go and get changed again.

It's like living with Diana Ross.

Bingo.

Read 'em and weep, pal.

Snap transport strike.

So get ready to shell out the bickies.

Who?

Len Johnson?

Yeah, he rang here earlier.

From the bowling club?

Yes, this is Jack Simpson.

Now listen up, old-timer.

I have to what?

Saturday?

Or what?

Right, now...

Can I just ask you...

You're taking your medication, aren't you?

Right, and hooroo to you too.

Who's Len?

Some clown from the bowling club

telling me I have to bowl this Saturday

or forfeit my membership.

Lawn bowls?

Fuck a duck.

Crikey, Stan, you're tossing pineapples.

Just getting them out of the system, Len.

It's only the roll-up, mate.

'Scuse me, Len.

But you'll be pleased to know that Jack Simpson has arrived.

Great. We've got a team.

Everybody, meet Jack Simpson.

G'day, g'day.

There appears to be a bit of a mix-up, young fella.

You're telling me.

Sorry to muck you about, but I'm afraid we're looking for

the Jack Simpson who's a member of this club.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, that's me.

I'm a member. Have been since '96.

I see.

Uh, well, in that case, mr Simpson,

your services will be required this morning.

You, my boy, are going for a roll.

Great. Couldn't be happier.

Alright, young fella.

The idea is to get your bowl

as close to this little white one as you can.

Right? Yes.

And keep the small circle on the inside,

'cause it's gonna curve like buggery.

WoSwear jar, Stan.

Um, it's gonna curve like the billyo.

Oh, and remember...

It's a game of skill, touch and Patience.

A true revealer of character, son.

All that's revealing right now

is two inches of arse crack poking out the top of my pants.

Hello, ladies!

Just get on with it, son.

These bowls are shithouse.

As I said, a true revealer of character.

- Can I go now? - No, unfortunately.

Unbelievable. And this is cool?

Ashtrays at either end.

Not sure what that is, but I'm guessing it's not smoko.

Lovely sandwiches, ladies.

Grouse. Top shelf.

You've done it again.

They're at genuine 1972 prices.

So how long's this been going on, gentlemen?

Well, son...

It's been going a long time.

Longer than you and me, that's for sure.

In fact, the most memorable game was in 1588

when sir Francis Drake played the famous game

against lord Howard at Plymouth hoe

while awaiting the arrival of the Spanish armada.

And you know what, son,

the great man finished the game before sailing into the channel

aboard his man-of-war to vanquish the enemy.

He told his men - and this is true, son -

“there's still time to win this game

“and thrash the spaniard too.”

Some people say he lost the game,

but I like to think he won the game and the battle too.

Because the great sir Francis Drake didn't know...

The meaning of defeat.

Think they're giving you the wind-up, Stan. 'Scuse I.

Ladies, this is the best damn trifle I've had bar none.

Swear jar, mr Simpson. Swear jar - what's that?

That's the jar you put money in if you say 'fuck'.

What's all that about?

That's the highest accolade you can be paid by the skip.

Eh, Stan!