Wrong Kind of Black

[STAYIN' ALIVE BY THE BEE GEES PLAYS]

The difference between Travolta and me ,

The 'fro.

Bit weird, eh?

A blackfella from Townsville working as a DJ in Melbourne.

Well, it was the '70s and everything was weird.

Yeah, Monty!

Well, that's my excuse. For a lot of things.

Like my modelling phase.

Yeah, and before you laugh, those clothes were all the rage.

Is it a bird?

Is it a plane?

It's the Black Superman riding the bumps and grooves

to make you party people move!

[AUDIENCE CHEERS, FUNKY DISCO MUSIC PLAYS]

Melbourne was about as far away from Townsville as you could get.

Now, the Albion Charles was the roughest pub in Melbourne.

It took all comers.

They came in sober and angry.

Especially when Collingwood lost.

My job was to send them home drunk and happy.

Put your hands up if you're having a groovy time

and looking finalicious!

And this one goes out to all the parolees in the house!

Ironically the only bloke at the bar who's not on parole is called Con.

He's the owner.

-Salut. -Salut.

His drinking mates all had records,

and I don't mean the kind you dance to.

Russian Roulette is game of pure skill.

Rudi was fair dinkum Russian Mafia, straight out of the joint

and stark raving mad.

You don't believe?

I demonstrate.

Hey!

First you take bullet.

Spin backwards for exactly three second.

See? I'm expert.

Rudi was right about one thing, timing is everything,

and tonight was definitely not the ideal time

for my brother Paulie to roll into town.

He was my best friend

and a walking, talking reminder of everything I left behind.

I thought you were up north, Yabba'ju.

Community Service is getting old, ay?

-Budda? -What?

It's not my fault. I tried doing my time.

Those coppers kept chasing me.

And we all can't blend in as well as you, bruz.

Straight into me, as always. I'll rise above it.

Well, if you want to blend in... here. Take these.

Got about a hundred of them.

-Drink cards? -Mm.

-You don't want them? -Nah, different rules for me, brother.

They don't let you drink here?

No, no, no, no, I don't let ME drink here.

Would you look at that?

Sober blackfella getting paid to make migaloos drunk.

Now, that's too deadly.

No. I just make them thirsty.

Rest is up to them.

Watch your step at the bar OK, brother?

Just roll with the punches.

My shout.

I like this man. Vodka, double.

That'd be right.

Paulie had chosen Melbourne's deadliest man to drink with,

and not blackfella deadly.

DEADLY deadly.

See, one more click before bang.

Salut.

And for the final proof of my pudding...

Ahh-ahh! Ahhh!

The police response time to the Albion Charles on a Saturday night

was famous.

They'd pin this on someone. Anyone.

[MAN IN PAIN} Ahh! Ahh!

And who was in the middle of it all?

Budda, Budda, you gotta get outta here

before the Bullyman comes and sees you like this.

Oh, he's got his ear blown off. I was just trying to help him.

You are a blackfella and covered in blood.

Paulie, you know how this goes. Please, doonghai.

Nobody move.

No-one's going home until someone starts talking.

You got the best view in here, mate. What happened?

This wasn't the first time

I'd been caught between a cop and a hard place.

I was twelve years old on Palm Island and I'd just met God.

I suppose you think you think you're holy

now that you've been baptized, Monty?

-Yeah. -Yeah.

Congratulations, my child.

A miraculous transformation, Monty,

to go from sinner to a child of the Lamb of God.

Baa! Baa!

How are you spending the rest of the summer?

We're all going to the bush and pray to the good Lord, Father.