Laura rolled her eyes at Dexter Finklestein,
who was engrossed in a conversation with a non-existent koala.
Shock waves from Dangerous Dylan Donovan’s speakers
had more than Laura’s coffee cup vibrating,
to the tune of Uptown Funk.
“Too hot, hot damn, too hot for the Police and the Fireman,
too hot, hot damn, make a dragon want to retire man,
to hot, hot damn, say my name, know who I am……”
At first glance Dangerous Dylan Donovan looked like
the best equipped bush regenerater she’d ever seen,
then she realized his trailer
was merely the casing for gigantic speakers.
Laura decided to have a talk with Dangerous,
about the excessive noise
affecting the breeding patterns of local wildlife.
Upon noticing how incredibly good looking he was
she spoke of the wonders of a nearby cave instead,
a moist wonderland with countless satisfied visitors.
Jumping Giles Corkhill, somersaulted to Earth
from the lounge chair bolted to the floor of
Dangerous Dylan Donovan’s ute tray.
“The boy knows how to make an entrance”
Dangerous stated with pride;
before turning his attention to Oliver Oxford.
‘Give me the run down on Golden Whistlers Oxford.
That’s one there isn’t it?
“The scientific name is Pachycephala pectoralis, Mr Dangerous.
They’re distributed throughout eastern and southern Australia
as far north as Cairns and as far south as Tasmania.
They inhabit rainforest, scrub and open forest.
Usually solitary and deliberate in their movements,
they possess a sweet and ringing song.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening, can you repeat that Oxford?”
“Don’t annoy me by raving on about birds, I’m busy”
was Dangerous response to take four.
“It’s okay Oliver, it’s all good practice”
Rowena, the crew’s morale and safety officer consoled.
She would’ve reprimanded Dangerous Dylan Donovan
but his boulder pulverizing biceps
meteor shattering, manly jaw and larrikin grin
left her too dizzy to speak.
The news CEO Matt Rush was on site
prompted the crew to scurry
to the makeshift parking lot
for a discussion on weed targeting priorities,
the dangers of cutting down trees
in which crew members had taken up residence
and questions concerning how Richard Johnson
had acquired a dozen mining helmets since signing on.
Richard had a gripe of his own.
“I wanna know whose bin spreadin bullshit
bout me being connected to the Wussian Mafia.
Whoever it is I’m gonna knock im
inta the middle of next year.”
Oliver Oxford, who had been front and centre
poised to impart his knowledge
on everything from Work Health and Safety laws
to the likely date of the Apocalypse
had mysteriously disappeared.
“What do you mean rumours?
It’s all true isn’t it” Ricardo Hohns piped up.
Johnson lurched forth like Frankenstein.
He swung and missed,
almost uprooting an African Olive.
Hohns looked as relieved
as a man who has successfully crossed Conrod Straight,
during the Bathurst One Thousand,
by a hairs breadth.
After regaining his composure, Ricardo sang
“Do ya, do ya, do ya wanna dance”
“I hate that song” Johnson bellowed.
As he covered his ears Riccardo lunged
and planted a leaping overhand left on the point of his chin.
It had less effect than a marble
clanging against the turret of a tank.
Dangerous Dylan Donovan barked instructions
‘Riccardo, use your speed, circle clockwise,
unload with a left
on his recently re-attached right ear’
“What speed?” Ricardo asked.
“Betta find some real quick
or I’m gonna havta step in for ya”
Dangerous removed his jacket faster
than a Spanish bull fighter shifts his capote
and flung it the length of a bowling alley
into the waiting arms of Jumping Giles Corkhill.
If he’d been any more accurate
Giles would’ve been wearing that jacket.
Hohn’s taunted his Godzilla dwarfing opponent
“Johnson, you look like a teletubby hybridised with a troll.
You’re so stupid
you’d crack open a coconut to make a cup of cocoa.”
Ricardo ducked beneath a haymaker
that might’ve decapitated him if it had landed.
“Grow up” Rowena screeched,
startling the combatants into standing as still as statues
and shocking the cheering mob into silence.
Any more of that and both of you can stand
in neutral naughty corners all day without pay.”
Matt Rush, who had bet Dangerous three hundred dollars,
on the outcome gave Rowena a nod of approval.
Matt completely forgot about the coal miners helmets
Richard Johnson had mysteriously acquired.
It never occurred to management that Hohn’s vs Johnson
might’ve been staged as a diversionary tactic,
with the added bonus of $300 being split three ways.
Large Leaf Privet massacring chainsaws
and Lantana annihilating brush cutters
destroyed the serene atmosphere
as shockingly as Dangerous Dylan Donovan’s sound system.
Knap sack herbicide sprayers blanketed
Moth Vine, Cape Ivy and Morning Glory patches,
which had spread so rapidly
time lapse photography was barely needed,
to watch their advance.
A chain saw wielding Richard Johnson,
drilled and poisoned the world’s biggest African Olive
with a jackhammer and a drum of diesel,
before charging at the next Olive infestation
like he was going over the top at Gallipoli.
Four former NFL players,
secondered from the landscape construction crew,
hauled the fallen weed trees from his path.
Rowena Grey ran around with the grace of a flamingo dancing,
in her bid to poison the stumps in time.
Ricardo Hohns stacked the butchered invaders remains,
between towering Eucalypts and Corymbias.
After morning tea Ricardo and Rowena extricated Erharta
From a patch of Weeping Meadow Grass.
Riccardo was spellbound by her tales of everything
from mushroom farming
to entertaining hospitalised children with her ukulele.
Ricardo delighted in pointing out
every passing Rufus Fantail and Yellow Robin.
He named every rare native herb he spotted.
What magnificent specimens of Solenogyne bellioides
and Cymbonotus lawsonianus he proclaimed.
One could be forgiven for thinking
they were thought to be extinct
since whales ancestors first fished in coastal shallows.
“Out of the sun Ricardo” Laura Bogan barked
with the fury of a rabid Doberman.
“I’m perfectly comfortable” Ricardo answered.
“Get the fuck out of the sun now” Laura screamed,
as she aimed the nozzle of a Staraine laden sprayer at his eyes.
With his hands raised in the air Ricardo did as he was told.
“I’m just thinking of your safety Ricardo.”
Rowena looked ready to flip Laura
into an African Box Thorn thicket.
Laura made a note in her diary
“Ricardo always seeks the shadiest spots to work,
at the expense of the crews health”
To be continued.