Les Norton

It was somewhere back in '85

when the Les Norton Show first came to town.

That's him on his first night.

16 stone of prime Queensland beef,

squeezed into a monkey suit he borrowed from Billy Dunne.

He'd spotted the job advert the day he arrived in Sydney,

and, after a quick meet and greet, he'd gotten a trial.

In fact, the big fella had been working at the Kelly Club

for precisely 23 minutes,

and while the first 22 had been pretty cruisy...

Whoa!

... it was the Cross and it was the '80s.

So... (CHUCKLES) well, you know.

- You right, there? - What?

That's welterweight pug Billy Dunne,

owner of the aforementioned bag of fruit and Les's new partner.

Mate, you were very clear, no aggro

unless you give me the green light.

That's true,

but you could show a bit of initiative there, big fella.

You're not worried about your suit?

Reckon we got bigger concerns there, bro?

That was a bit cheeky, wasn't it?

Now, Les wasn't what you'd call a scientific fighter.

For all he knew, the Marquess of Queensbury

could have been a pub in Parramatta.

But with a head as hard as a cricket ball

and the fists the size of Christmas hams,

he went through the bikies like a 3-day-old vindaloo.

Come on, Les, you can do it, brother!

That's him!

Ha-ha!

Argh!

Hey, not the boss's Rolls, Les!

Les!

Les!

About time you grab your boys,

and you ride off into the sunset, eh, what do you reckon?

I reckon you can go fuck yourself, ginger nuts.

Or do you prefer a tampon?

- Tampon? - (GROANS)

Never heard either, to tell the truth.

Ow!

Both pretty funny, but.

- Ooh! - (SIREN CHIRPS)

Shit...

Ray 'Thumper' Burrell was from the old school.

And as far as Ray was concerned,

what couldn't be solved with a phone book and a size 12 steel cap

didn't warrant solving.

What in Christ's name is going on here, eh?

We were just minding our own business

when they came at us like animals.

Jeez, they must have really gotten the jump on you

to give you such a towelling, mate.

You better sort him out

or I'll bring the rest of the club back and we'll do it ourselves.

You just let me do the sorting, alright?

Now be a good lad, go and jump in the truck.

Now...

who the fuck are you?

I'm Les Norton.

And you like hurting blokes, do you, Les Norton?

It's members only and unfortunately, these blokes weren't members.

Rules are rules.

And you're the new enforcer, are ya?

Well, I didn't throw the first punch, if that's what you're asking.

But I did throw the last.

Last few, come to think of it.

No.

Am I going to have trouble with you, Les Norton?

Wouldn't have thought so, sir.

Come on, round the back. Into the truck.

You...

I reckon you're slowing down.

Pretty soon I'll be able to flog your black shiny arse myself.

You know where to find me, you big, fat, pig bastard.

Come on!

Alright, top-top, Probationary Constable,

get the rest of this shit off my street.

- Give her a hand, tough guy. - Yeah, go on, Les.

- (MAN GROANS) - Toodle-ooh, big cop!

- I'll grab his legs. - Nup. I'm right, I'm right.

Fucking hell, come on.

You sure? He's a big boy.

And I'm a big girl.

Ah, argh!

Thought Queensland coppers were rough.

That was an accident, alright?

Oh, yeah?

Hate to see you hurt someone on purpose.

I'm alright, love, I'm alright.

Don't worry, I won't tell if you don't.

I'm Les, by the way.

Tempting, but I'll pass.

You a bourbon or a scotch guy?

Or is it strictly Bundy up your way?

Nah, just a XXXX'll do, thanks.

Not much call for XXXX around these parts, brother.

They tell me it's the Rolls Royce of beers.

Guess I'm more of a ute guy.

- Ah. - Suit yourself.

Country boy. Should've guessed.

I'm Georgie.

Georgie Burman was one of the few women

to manage a club back then.

She ran the numbers like an SP bookie

and there wasn't a zack

whose whereabouts she didn't know intimately,

all while looking like she just stepped off the set of Dynasty.

Impressive debut.

A little unconventional.

Oh, well, as my grandma used to say,

"Can't eat a mango without getting a little juice on your chin."

Sounds like a wise lady.

She teach you to fight like that, as well?

Nah, nah, I put in a couple of years

behind the bar at the hotel up in Dirranbandi.

Yeah, the nearest cops were a hundred clicks away,

so I'd learn to shut things down pretty quickly,

before they get out of hand.

That'll come in handy.

Things tend to get a bit rowdy around here.

Find that hard to believe.

What do you mean?

Just have a look at the size of the place, it's tiny.

I mean, you'd have to go outside just to change your mind.

Welcome to Sydney's best-kept secret.

Jeez, I'm pretty sure these joints are illegal up in Queensland.

Pretty sure they're illegal down here too, Les.

The Police Commissioner was on the telly just the other night,

complaining about the scourge of illegal gambling here in Sydney.

And he should know.

Hello, Commissioner.

Hello, Georgie. You look lovely tonight.

Any night of the week you'll find the who's who of Sydney in here,

enjoying a bit of fun away from the public glare.

That's why discretion's the name of the game.

We need to know we can trust our employees absolutely.

Well, I'm fair dinkum, if that's what you're asking.

It's not me you need to convince.

Les Norton, Price Galese.

Every kingdom has a king,

and in 1985, the Cross had Price Galese.

Norton, hey?

So, how'd you like your first night at the Kelly Club?

It was alright, I suppose, until those boofheads rocked up.

Thought I was going to spend my first night in Sydney in a lockup.

You needn't have worried there.

As you can see, I've got a very healthy relationship

with the local constabulary.

Price owns the club, which makes him the unofficial boss of the Cross.

Oh, nonsense, Georgie.

You know, I'm a concerned citizen

who likes to engage with me local community, that's all.

You know, as part of that, I... I contribute to charities

and welfare groups and so on and so forth.

Including the welfare of half the NSW police force.

What can I say? They're the best cops money can buy.

Uh... what brings you to Sydney?

Oh... play a bit of footy back home.

Bush league mainly, but standard's alright.

Coach reckoned I should come down to Sydney and give it a crack,

see if anyone bites.

Mm. What do you think of the Harbour City so far?

Apart from the foreign beers

and the backpackers with the cockroaches big enough to ride,

it's alright, I suppose.

But... be better with a job here.

I know.

Well, in that case,

I think now's about the time to tell me

if there's, um, anything in your past we should know about.

Like what?

You tell me.

You ever been to prison?

Nah.

Hmm.

How about extracurriculars?

You fancy a little toot every now and again, do ya?

Do you smoke a little Bob Hope?

Don't mind a drink. That's about it.

- Anything kinky? - Come again?

I dunno. You like to sniff underwear?

You get off on someone weeing on you?

Do you like to hurt animals?

No.

But I might make an exception for you if you keep this up.

Mm. Alright, well, in that case,

I think I've only got one more question for you.

I'm Prince Charles, mate.

I'm all ears.

What size suit do you take?

There you go!

Les.

A girlfriend has a room for rent in Bondi.

It's not fancy but it'll beat a Kings Cross backpackers any day.

Yeah, righto. Ta.

Can't remember.