Wayne stripped down to his underwear, pulled back the covers and flopped into the single bed. He discovered it was lumpy, creaked every time he moved, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but sweat like a pig. He gave up and chucked the sheets in a pile on the floor. “This country in general sucks,” he grumbled and looked over at Brad, who was trying to see his tattoo in a small cracked mirror.

“Dammit…I can’t get a good look at it,” Brad hissed, twisting and contorting his body as best he could.

“Dude, it’s a woman and monkey rubbing uglies. You don’t want to see it,” Wayne sighed.

“My mother is going to kill me,” Brad whined and flumped, face down, on his bed.

“You worry about what your mother thinks?” Wayne mused.

“And you don’t?” Brad countered, raising an eyebrow

“No…I…we…shuddup,” Wayne babbled as he heard his mother’s voice ringing in his ears: “Wayne Brady what are you wearing, boy? You look like one of those homosexuals.”

Brad and Wayne fell into silence. Brad closed his eyes and began to drift off while Wayne stared up at the ceiling fan.

“Why do they bother having hot and cold taps here?” Chip huffed, appearing from the bathroom, drying his hair. “The water is hot no matter which one you turn on.”

“I think it’s great…it saves all that twisting and fiddling shit you have to do otherwise,” Greg mused, exploring his bedside drawers.

“Yeah, well my back is red raw,” Chip grumbled.

“Ohhh, pornos. Very lame pornos, but pornos none the less,” Greg chirped and held up several tatty magazines and then dropped them back into the draw.

“Anything else to read?” Chip asked, hanging the towel over a chair and falling onto his bed.

“The Bible,” Greg replied, “and a couple of pamphlets.”

“What are the pamphlets for?” Chip yawned.

“Places to see in the Alice. There’s a guy who collects women’s underwear in a cave,” Greg chuckled scanning one pamphlet.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Chip breathed, rolling onto his back.

“Because we’re in Australia and everyone knows Australians are freaky,” Greg perked and put the pamphlet back. “Hey, it was pretty funny how Baz thought you were gay.”

“Yeah, it was hysterical.”

“And how some guy called Killer decked you.”

“That was your fault,” Chip hissed sitting up.

“You threw the beer of you own accord.”

“You, as usual couldn’t keep your big mouth shut.”

“I do not have a big mouth, I merely state my opinions in a frank and honest matter.”

Greg and Chip fell silent.

“Dumbass,” Chip soon piped up and chucked a pillow at Greg. The pillow knocked Greg’s glasses off.

“Grow up, dancing queen,” Greg huffed, fixed his glasses and chucked the pillow back.

“Moron,” Chip giggled and hurled the pillow back.

“Prick,” Greg chuckled, threw the pillow back then grabbed his own pillow.

Before Chip could get a proper grip on the chucked pillow, Greg walloped him and all out pillow war broke out.

After ten minutes they both stood gasping for breath.

“We’re way to old for this,” Greg panted.

“Speak for yourself, speccy,” Chip laughed and gave Greg a feeble whack to the legs.

“You hit like a girl,” Greg laughed.

Chip cracked up too.

A short time later both men had calmed down and were sleeping like babies.

Drew was quite proud that he’d managed to score the only single room. He shuddered at the thought of having to share with anyone else, especially Ryan.

He was totally exhausted. This was not Drew Carey’s lifestyle. He did not stay in anything less that five star accommodations, and certainly would not have ended up in a dead end town like this. His other grudge at that moment was the stifling heat. How could anyone live like this? It was 2am and at least 90 degrees Farenheit outside. That couldn’t be healthy. No wonder Steve Irwin the Crocodile Hunter was so mental.

Drew had gotten as comfortable as he possibly could under the circumstances, and in a position that would stop him from drowning in his own sweat. He began to relax when…

Buzzzz…zzzzz…zzzzzz

A mosquito began buzzing around his head. Drew flapped his arms about hoping to kill it. Soon the buzzing disappeared and Drew began to relax again.

Buzzz..zzzzzzz…zzzzzzzzzzzzz…zz….zzz…zz..zzz..zzzzzz

Drew let out a silent scream and flicked on the light. “Come here you bastard,” he hissed and grabbed a porno mag from the floor where he’d left it.

Drew put his glasses on, got to his feet and began stalking around the room, searching for the mozzie. It didn’t take long before it began flittering around his body.

Buzz

Swish

Buzz

Swish

Buzz

TWACK!

Drew pulled back the porno and saw the squished remains of the mozzie smeared on the breasts of some voluptuous blonde.

“Yes! Drew one, bug zero,” Drew perked.

He dumped the magazine in the bin, took his glasses off and climbed back into bed. He relaxed and stretched out and could feel sleep looming.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…zzzzzzzzzz..zz

“NO,” Drew sobbed, pulling the pillow over his head.

Colin looked disappointedly at the double bed. It looked like a slightly larger single to him, or perhaps it was because Ryan seemed to take up so much room.

“Are you coming to bed or not?” Ryan sighed as he pulled the covers up, his feet hanging out.

“Yeah I guess,” Colin sighed and like Ryan before him, stripped to his underwear.

“You’d better not snore,” Ryan grumbled as Colin joined him under the covers.

“I’ll try my best,” Colin mumbled.

Both men lay staring at the ceiling in silence.

“So what did you and Bruce talk about today?” Ryan eventually asked.

“Hmm…he was teaching me Australian,” Colin replied.

“Yeah? Teach me some Australian,” Ryan grinned.

“Well, firstly they call American’s septics,” Colin said matter-of-factly.

Ryan looked at him confused.

“Septics…as in septic tanks…Yanks,” Colin smiled.

“Charming…what else did he teach you?”

“What a dutchy is.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“It’s short for Dutch Oven…where you pull the covers over someone’s head and then fart.”

“Man…that’s gross…” Ryan winced. “Please don’t test that theory out,” he added quickly.

“Oh, and I learned what a bed flute is,” Colin mused.

“Go on, enlighten me,” Ryan sighed, looking at Colin.

“It’s what they call a penis,” Colin said straight-faced.

Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not letting you associate with any more Australians.”

“I like Australians, they treat me nicely,” Colin scorned.

“Apart from the girl who made a gag about your baldness,” Ryan smirked.

“Yes, apart from her,” Colin agreed.

They fell silent again.

“Can I pull the covers up a bit more?” Colin yawned.

“If we pull it up any more my knees will be exposed,” Ryan whined.

“Well don’t be so tall then,” Colin grumbled and yanked the covers.

“Hey,” Ryan snapped and yanked the covers back.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Colin breathed.

“You’re the one being unreasonable,” Ryan huffed.

“I’ll show you unreasonable,” Colin mumbled.

What unfolded was a massive tug of war over the covers and a lot of cursing.

Eventually Ryan, without thinking, announced, “This is stupid,” and let go.

Colin went tumbling over the edge of the bed and hit the ground with a loud thump.

“Col” Ryan sniggered, which turned into a chuckle and descended into a full on hysterical laugh.

“Next time I get the single bed,” Colin hissed from the floor.