Yunta.
This is me, says Dazza, parking the camper outside the pub.
You've been most helpful, says Gaius. Can I buy you a drink as a thank you?
Thanks mate, says Dazza.
They all go inside.
Dazza! says someone. What brings you here?
Givin' these fellas a lift, says Dazza.
Gaius orders two cold beers and a soft drink for Wittgenstein, who will henceforth be driving.
Where're they headed? asks Dazza's acquaintance.
Broken Hill. Then on to Taree, says Dazza.
Might be queues at the border, says the acquaintance.
Yup, says Dazza. But Taree's where the frogs are.
Particular frogs, explains Gaius.
He places the drinks on a table.
What do I get? asks Terence.
A squash, says Gaius. He goes back to the bar to buy Terence a squash.
It's the wrong colour, says Terence.
It is what it is, says Dazza.
Wittgenstein sighs.
There is so much more to is than just isness.
Like, what is the wrong colour? Should he come out with it?
No. He has other things to consider,
Sweezus and Arthur have basically hijacked his car. And he can't get in touch with them.
Nor can Gaius.
Why the long face? asks Dazza.
I should have got Sweezus's number, says Wittgenstein.
Do you have the number of someone who knows it? asks Dazza.
A clever suggestion, says Gaius. What about Vello?
Of course! says Wittgenstein. He calls Vello.
What is it? grumbles Vello.
I need Sweezus's number, says Wittgenstein.
Why don't you have it? asks Vello. Hasn't he ever called you? Look at your recents.
Just give me the number, says Wittgenstein. He's gone off in my car.
Ha ha! laughs Vello, and gives him the number.
Wittgenstein calls Sweezus.
Hey! says Sweezus. Where are you guys?
Yunta, says Wittgenstein.
Yunta! says Sweezus. We're nearly at Broken Hill. What's the hold-up?
We're on our way, says Wittgenstein.
Have they crossed the border? asks Gaius.
I suppose so, says Wittgenstein.
That will be due to Arthur, says Gaius. We may not be so lucky.
I'm DEFINITELY not lucky, says Terence, staring hard at his pale yellow squash.
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