“Please, god, tell me this is the last one,” Paul groaned as he rubbed his temples, his head still numbly throbbing.

“Oh quit ya whining,” Gina mused. “It’s not my fault all the others have been inappropriate.”

“What was so inappropriate about the three bedroom townhouse with that gorgeous view over the harbour?”

“The bathroom was beige.”

“Oh right, and let me guess,” he scorned. “That place on the North Shore, it was wrong because the kitchen was tangerine and the bedroom window got the afternoon sun.”

“Well, that and North Shore people are all snobs.”

“That’s a bit of an over generalization, don’t you think?”

“You told me that all North Shore people are bunch of fucking rich bastards who’d sell their own children for a yacht.”

“I never said that. When did I say that?” he gasped.

“About 15 minutes ago,” she countered.

Paul pouted, eager to not let her get the last word but his attention was averted out of the window, “Where the hell are we?”

“Inner suburbs,” Gina replied as she took several turns into increasingly quiet streets.

“Inner suburbs?” Paul asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed several children playing on skateboards.

“Yes Paul,” Gina replied sharply. “If you look to your left you can see poor people scavenging around an industrial bin.”

“But I like my beach views,” Paul whined.

“Listen to it,” Gina teased. “Just because the closest you’ve ever come to suburbia is Canberra, which is just the housing estate of politicians and wealthy pricks. The playground of the pissed and rich.”

“This from she who hails from Adelaide,” Paul spat. “Hi welcome to Adelaide, city of churches and weird sex crimes.”

“Yeah and you grew up there too.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“No, I’m going to park the car and we’re going to look at a house. I can see Marcus waiting.”

Paul slipped into a sulk as Gina parked the car in the quiet street. She slid out of the driver’s seat and headed across the road to where Marcus was waiting, clipboard in hand. Paul let out a grumble before he got out of the car and took a good look at the house. It was crammed between two more modern houses making it look out of place. The paint was peeling, the garden was overgrown, and it looked generally like a dilapidated wreck.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Paul mused.

Fenny felt something cold on her foot. Cold and wet. Her eyes sprung open and she sat up, only then noticing the black and white collie at her feet.

“Mochrie,” Fenny yawned and fell back onto the couch. Mochrie padded over to her and let out a small cry. “Please tell me you don’t want to pee?” she sighed, stroking the fur on Mochrie’s head. The dog responded by licking her hand enthusiastically. Fenny yawned and pulled herself up from the couch. She padded across the room and into her bedroom where Brad and Lilly were both sleeping, although she wasn’t sure how Lilly could sleep through her father’s snoring. Fenny grabbed her jeans, sweater and sneakers and hurried back into the living room to pull them on over her pajamas. “You owe me, mutt,” she scolded, grabbing Mochrie’s red leash from a hook by the door and guiding her into the hallway.

A few minutes later they were in the street and heading toward the park. Fenny was surprising herself by being out alone at night.

“If I end up in a shallow grave off some highway in Arizona, I blame you,” she mused at Mochrie who she let off the lead to chase the shadows cast over the park by the moon. She was waiting to be pounced on by winos or homeless people, but was surprised not to run in to another soul. Fenny flopped down onto an empty park bench and looked up at the clear sky, the stars dancing before her tired eyes. She couldn’t have been happier to return to LA. The recent spell of warm weather was especially nice after the chills of Europe. Her appreciation of the dark was interrupted by her need to yawn and Mochrie appearing eating a donut that must have been abandoned earlier.

“You know you shouldn’t go out alone.”

Fenny felt her heart leap into her throat and then subside when she realised the voice was Brad’s.

“What are you doing here?” she half-whispered.

“I woke up and wondered where the hell you were,” Brad replied. “Then I noticed Moch was gone and took a wild guess.”

“Who’s watching Lilly?”

“Jenna, she’s just got home from…” Brad paused for a moment. “It was Chaz, or Chad or Chiz or something. Anyway, she was surprisingly sober.”

“I hope Lil doesn’t wake up. She’ll have manicured nails and a dye job before we get back.”

Brad chuckled as he put his arm around her. Sheslid into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know you’re finding it hard, and I know you don’t want to be Lilly’s mom.”

“Got that right,” she nodded as her hand moved onto his thigh.

“But thank you for trying,” he breathed and kissed the top of her head. She wanted to yell at him — how dare he be so sweet and understanding when she’d been nothing short of horrible to his daughter. “Oh, one thing though,”

“What?” she asked, lifting her head.

“I think the Nagasaki mural in her room might be a bit too much.”

“Oh, you saw that?” she said sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? It’s hysterical. I’m taking it to work to show the guys.”

“You can’t, it’s only a very crude pen drawing.”

“I’m sorry, would you like to borrow Lilly’s crayons?” Brad teased and received an elbow to the ribs for his troubles. “Oh my gallbladder.” Fenny started to giggle and couldn’t stop. “Right, we’re going home, young lady,” he declared and picked he up, leaving her hanging over his shoulder like a fireman. “Mochrie,” he whistled and the dog bounded over.

“Put me down, you great ape,” Fenny laughed as Brad started making chimp noises that just made her laugh more.

“And ah this is the…oh,” Marcus paused as a tile fell from the bathroom wall and cracked into a thousand pieces on the floor. “That’s about it really.”

“Mate, no wonder this place is still on the market,” Paul laughed.

“I love it!” Gina declared as she walked back into the kitchen. Paul and Marcus both looked at each other shocked and then followed.

“You can’t be serious,” Paul gasped.

“It’s fantastic! Sure it needs a little work…”

“A little? Genie there’s bare pipes in the kitchen, the bathroom has more mould than my underwear, and I’d seriously fear for the cat in that backyard.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s fucking terrible. It brings literal meaning the term ‘shithouse,’ babe.”

“Gee, I’m so sorry it’s not some pure white, modern shoebox with stainless steel fittings and a gold plated fucking toilet.”

“I am not in any way buying this run down heap of shit that is only fit to house some sad little old lady with 20,000 cats.”

“Selfish prick,” she snapped and marched out of the back door.

“Bitch,” he hissed before looking at Marcus who looked like a stunned bunny. “Are you married?”

“No sir,” Marcus swallowed.

“Good. Don’t ever go there, mate. It’s not worth it,” Paul sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He let out a frustrated growl and then headed out the backdoor. Gina was sitting on the porch step that overlooked the unkempt back garden. He sat down next to her.

“Why this house?” he asked calmly.

“It’s got character,” Gina shrugged miserably. “I’ve never wanted some horrible, cold, modern place. It’s just not me, and babe, it’s certainly not you.”

“Rundown suburbia is me?”

“It is after you’ve been drinking,” Gina said with a small smile. “Paul, this place is a blank canvas, we can do what we like to it. You can replicate the Sistine Chapel in the toilet for all I care.”

“Hey, now there’s an idea…”

“Don’t you think it might be a bit of fun to do the place up ourselves? To do something together for a change?”

He fell quiet and clicked his tongue. “We could paint the bathroom fuchsia.”

“With green tiles,” she perked.

“Oh, and we could get a skull door knocker like the Osbournes,” Paul enthused.

“Terrible 70s-style faux fur rugs.”

“A pouf, can we have a pouf? I’ve always wanted a pouf?”

Gina looked at Paul and giggled. He looked back confused for a moment before he realised the implications of what he’d just declared and started to giggle.

“So, are you willing to risk the innermost depths of suburbia, poor people and a bit of hard work?” she asked, sliding her hand into his.

He looked at her sternly for moment and then smiled. “If it means you’re going to thank me with countless hours of sex, then I’ll run in and tell young Marcus the good news myself.”

“Thank you, you gorgeous man,” Gina grinned and leapt into Paul’s lap, surprising him with a heated kiss.

“One thing though, babe,” he manage to gasp. “If we start to find corpses under the floorboards, we go for the nice townhouse.”

“Fondue?” Greg mused as he clicked the reply button. He still had a few hours to kill until he met with the others to go over the final details of the Vegas trip. Then it was off to another therapy session where he planned to try and drag the session out for at least 20 minutes, even if it involved bullshitting a sob story about the tragic loss of his childhood pet Smuffy.

Fenny woke to find herself alone in bed. She was still considerably tired from the previous night, but decided to get up anyway. The only upside to her late night was that once Brad had carried her all the way home making chimp noises, he’d put Lilly in her own bed and then Fenny had been able to snuggle against him for the rest of the dark hours. She padded out of the bedroom running her fingers through her hair and found Brad and Lilly together on the couch watching Blue’s Clues.

“Morning sweetness,” Brad smiled through half a mouthful of Coco Pops.

“Daddy, look, a clue!” Lilly squealed, nearly dropping her own bowl of Coco Pops on the floor.

“Coffee?” Fenny asked.

“But this is just like a chocolate milkshake only crunchy,” Brad said blankly looking at his bowl of food and then Fenny.

“I was asking Lil,” Fenny countered, crossing her arms.

“My child does not need caffeine.”

“Neither does her dad,” Fenny giggled, saw the look in Brad’s eye and raced into the kitchen with him hot on her heels. She tried to shield herself behind a chair but Brad grabbed her and they both became lost in fits of giggles.

“So, are we a happy bunny?” Brad asked as Fenny wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Well I’m not thinking of staple-gunning the child to a billboard to be pecked to death by birds, so yeah.”

“Great, then I plan to put myself right back in the doghouse,” Brad sighed, his hands brushing the hair back from her face and resting on her cheeks.

“Why? What have you done?”

“I’ve got to go out for a couple of hours to meet the guys. It’s just to discuss the final details of the Vegas trip.”

“And you want me to watch the child?”

“Please? I’ll be at your mercy all afternoon,” Brad pleaded, giving her his best doe eyes. “Please, please, please, please,” he added, nuzzling into her neck and teasing her with a couple of kisses.

“You are so lucky I love you,” Fenny smiled. “Lilly and I can go to the hardware store and pick paint for her room.”

“That’s, that’s great,” Brad gasped. “I’ll give you money,” he added and pulled her into a kiss, his hands feeling their way down her body.

“DADDY!”

“Dammit,” Brad sighed. “What is it sweetie?” he called into the living room.

“My Coco Pops are on the floor,” Lilly replied.

“I think my penis is actually getting dusty…” Brad muttered as he headed back into the living room with a damp cloth.

“I’m going to check my email,” Fenny declared as she wandered back through the living room, Brad was on all fours scrubbing chocolate milk out of the carpet and Lilly was picking up the Coco Pops one by one.

Fenny woke her computer up from its sleep mode and clicked open her browser. She looked at the 17 messages in her inbox.

“Porn, free diploma, penis enlargement…Oh McDermott.”

“The whole truth?” Fenny mumbled. “What’s he done? Christ, I’ll use his penis as a hood ornament if he’s done what I think he has.”

Paul yawned as he wandered back into the living room to see Gina asleep on the couch. The television was tuned to some god awful home makeover show.

“That’s enough to send anyone to sleep,” Paul mused as he grabbed the remote from the floor.

“I’m watching it,” Gina mumbled.

“With your eyes closed?” he queried.

“My third eye is open,” she countered.

“Hey, that’s my excuse.”

“Shut up and snuggle with me,” she mused, opening one eye and shifting over on the couch so he could lie with her. “Much better,” she added wrapping her arms around him.

“You know you’re getting old when you snuggle because you’re too tired to have sex.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Be a first if you nodded off half way through.”

“Be a third for you.”

“You said you’d never bring that up again.”

“I say a lot of things, hon,” Gina breathed, dropping a tired kiss on Paul’s cheek. They let out a tired sigh together and fell quiet.

“While Noni is repainting the study periwinkle, Scott is going to show us how to whip up a handy bookcase in just ten minutes…”

“Oh, well done Scott,” Paul sarced. “And later Scott will show us how he pleases a woman in just 35 seconds.”

“While Angie in the kitchen cooks up a mouth watering dish of monkey penises in a light cheese sauce, garnished with rosemary and a side order of orphans’ eyeballs.”

Paul let out a cackle, “Oh that was evil.”

“Hi, today I’m going to show you how to make a great bookcase that should only take ten minutes. First we need a couple of sheets of…”

“Was that wood or a venereal disease?” Paul asked, looking at the flannelette-clad man on the television.

“I think Noni should do a segment on what to do when your famous husband leaves you for another woman.”

Paul felt a chill run down his spine, “Noni’s nice. I met her at the Logies once. Back when she was still doing children’s television.”

“Since when did you think the sun shone out her butt? You wanted to attack her for her stupid suggestions.”

“Maybe I feel guilty because I made a gag about Big Ted and Little Ted.”

Gina opened her eyes and looked at him strangely, “I don’t want to know.”

“Now all it needs is a coat of paint and it’s ready for the room. Back to you in the garden, Noni…”

“Not gardening. I’m not watching her coo over some piece of greenery and use words like ‘root’ and ‘bulb’,” Paul declared and turned the television off, leaving the room in darkness. The only light was the faint glow from the VCR.

“Oh, now what are supposed to do?” Gina sighed, her fingers finding their way under Paul’s t-shirt.

“I don’t care, as long as it’s got nothing to do with fucking renovations,” Paul breathed.

“Well there goes my joke about erecting something in the bedroom.”

“Oh yes, let’s root the begonias,” Paul mused as he got to his feet.

Gina wearily got up after him. “How about, playing with the plumbing?” she giggled, leading he through the dark to the bedroom.

“Fonduing the wombat,” he declared as they reached the door.

“Fonduing the wombat?

“How about you just re-pot my bulbs?”

“Okay, you’re on,” she grinned and pushed him onto the bed.

“Dead man walking,” Greg cackled as Brad appeared, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in hand.

“Do you want this inserted up your incredibly tight ass, Proops?” Brad scorned, falling into an empty chair.

“How do you know my ass is tight?” Greg asked.

“Yeah Sherwood, enlighten us,” Ryan grinned, crossed his legs and sat back, waiting expectantly.

“Well last night after a lovely dinner, Greg and I went back his place and…. You guys are all sick fucks.”

“Oh, no more story?” Chip pouted.

“What are we telling stories about?” Drew asked as he walked into the room looking like he was thinking a million different things.

“Brad was just telling us how he knows how Greg’s ass is tight,” Colin announced bluntly.

Drew looked strangely at Brad and Greg. “Oh man, I don’t wanna know.”

“I don’t know if I’m comfortable with all this conversation about my ass,” Greg declared.

“Better than the conversation that usually comes out of it,” Ryan chided. “Did I just say that? Man.”

“Is it pick on the Proopdog day?” Brad mused.

“I don’t care, I’ll just talk through all your jibes with my therapist,” Greg sneered.

“Please, from what I’ve heard, she’s the one that needs to talk,” Brad teased.

“Remind me again, how is your illegitimate child today?” Greg smiled.