Photo Opportunies: The Ridiculousness of Rumours (and other Fleetwood Mac classics)



Kent: So whaddya reckon Bomber, you gonna give me a game this week?

Lips: Probably not, but if you continue tickling me in this manner your chances may improve. By the way, the rumours about me shagging your girlfriend, are true. Perhaps if you were to lease her out once in a while – no strings attached, of course – you might find yourself in the team a lot more often. Hell, I might even be able to look the other way if you go goalless a couple of weeks in a row. No need to answer me right away…but just keep smiling for the cameras. We want this cheesy shot on the cover of The Geelong Fucking Advertiser, don’t we?

Kent: Yeah, I’ll keep smiling Bomber, you smug prick. And I’ll be smiling all the way through Brian Cook’s football department review, otherwise known as ‘a reason to fire the coach’. And you wonder why the rest of the blokes don’t like you. They love me though. Mooney said on Fox Footy that I’m his best mate; he even got suspended so you could squeeze me into the team. The Hawthorn blokes are lining up to give John Frickin’ Barker a farewell game, you gotta pick me! It’s my last chance to audition for the Kangaroos! Hmmm, you don’t have the number for Jon Hay’s agent, do you?

Lips: No, but I have his girlfriend’s number. I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself anyway, Kent, you’ll be staying in Geelong next year. Sure, you’ll be on the pay roll as a senior player, but you won’t be seeing any game time. Hatchett Hawkins’ll need a personal whipping boy next year to attend to his every need, and I put your name forward during my own Brian Cook review session. Cooksey seemed rather chuffed with the idea, actually. It won’t involve anything too difficult: washing his clothes, driving him to training, cooking his meals, etc, etc. Pretty much everything except playing football and screwing all the women the rookie’ll have swarming around him next year. Keep smiling…

Kent: I’ve been doing that for Otto for 2 years anyway. And you think I’ll miss the pressure of seniors, what, with the chasing and tackling and getting dirty? Screw that. The only thing I miss is that brief period after Brett Spinks and Mitchell White; I looked like the second coming of Jason Freaking Dunstall to these people. Maybe it’s time for me to move on, after all, I have my bar, my restaurant, my stocks and my millions of dollars to count… all I need is a good woman to share it with and I can settle down. So, is it too early to ask for your soon-to-be ex-wife’s number? Just kidding, I wouldn’t touch her with Linga’s dick. Addy photographer, 3 o’clock…

Lips: Speaking of Ling, who was it who shagged his Brownlow date? Ah, that’s right, it was me, wasn’t it! Hell, according to the rumours, I’m a regular fucking Casanova. Mind you, it’s no wonder he’s shitty; I think that red knob is the only guy who finds it hard to pick up in this town. Otto has apparently scored with every female between Warrnambool and Werribee, but we can hardly blame this sexual free-for-all for our team’s demise now can we, Kent? If you had of shown some nuts on the rare occasion we might have seen some September action this year. What’s your problem anyway? I mean, have you washed your game day jumper even once this year, Fluffy? Fluffy? Kent!!!

Kent: What’s that? Ah, sorry Bomber, just want to make sure they got my good side. Aaaaaand we’re clear. So, training over yet? I’ve got beer lines to clean. Oh, and that reminds me, does Hatchet Hawkins like starch in his collars?