Greg had decided that he’d have to beg Gina to let them stop off at a general store somewhere to get a change of clothes, something for his hair, and a razor that didn’t tear up his face. Once he got himself looking presentable, he glanced down at his watch. It had been seven minutes. Gina should’ve been back.

With a shrug, he wandered across the hall and slipped into Gina’s room, only to find it empty, as were Paul’s and Brad’s. He skipped anxiously down the stairs back down to the pub, where a boisterous crowd at one table caught his attention. “Greg!” Brad cried, waving furiously from the midst of the jovial breakfast.

He sauntered over to find Brad and Paul accompanied by Big Bazza and a few other grizzly looking guys. “Hey there, Greg, how you going?” Big Bazza chirped.

“Any of you guys seen Gina?” Greg asked, ignoring the greeting.

“Yeah, I saw her leave about ten minutes ago,” Brad said, stepping away from the table, grateful to have an excuse to leave. “Are we ready to go?”

“Goin’ so soon?” Bazza protested. “You lot haven’t finished your food.”

“We’ll take it to go,” Greg said, “we’re kinda on a tight schedule. We gotta find Gina, she said she’d be back by now.”

Brad and Paul were wrapping their toast and hash browns in napkins as Greg disappeared through the front door, and they caught up with him halfway to the service station. “Did you see a woman come in here to buy a couple maps?” Greg demanded of the man behind the counter.

“Yeah, left here about five minutes ago,” he replied.

“Five minutes ago?” Paul asked. “You sure?” The clerk nodded.

“Maybe we missed her,” Brad shrugged. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Halfway there, Greg felt something crunch under his foot. “Gina’s keys,” he breathed.

“Looks like there was a struggle,” Paul noticed.

“Yes, Kimosabe,” Brad nodded.

“You don’t think…” Greg trailed off, not wanting to have to actually say it.

“But what reason would Ritza have for taking off with Gina?” Brad asked.

“How the hell should I know?” Greg barked.

“How do we know it’s Ritza that’s got her?” Paul asked.

“What’re the chances of her getting dragged off by some random person in the middle of a quaint little town like this, huh?” Greg asked.

“Okay fine, you’ve got a point. But what do we do?” Paul asked.

“We find out where she’s taken them,” Brad shrugged. “She can’t be far.”

“Right,” Greg nodded. “You go get a couple maps,” he said, waving Paul away.

“What should I do?” Brad asked.

“Give me your food,” he commanded, and grabbed the toast from him. They made their way back to the hotel parking lot. “I forgot my cigarettes,” Greg grumbled, and marched back up to his room to retrieve them and give each of their rooms one more thorough once over for Gina. When he came back, Brad and Paul were sitting in Gina’s Beetle looking over a couple of maps.

“So where’re we going?” Greg asked, looking in the window.

“Not sure,” Brad answered. “Get in.”

“Why can’t I drive?” Greg whined.

“Because I’m bigger than you are,” Brad smirked.

“Too bad Fenny’s not around to testify,” Paul jeered.

“Shut up and navigate,” Greg commanded as he climbed in the back seat. Brad turned the key and started towards the road.

“It’s hard to navigate when I don’t know where we’re going,” Paul argued.

“Guess we still head for Katoomba,” Greg shrugged and stretched out on the back seat.

“You’re not tired, are you?” Paul asked.

“Oh yeah, poor Greg, didn’t get any sleep ‘cause he was up all night screwing Gina when they were supposed to be worried about Fenny,” Brad scorned.

“Yeah, a fat lot of good it did you to just sulk in your room all night,” Greg said. “Now you’re just in a bad mood.”

“Have you not noticed that we’ve got two women missing?” Paul asked. “Maybe we could all put aside our differences for the time being?” Brad suddenly slammed on the brakes. “What, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Paul added hastily.

“No, I suddenly realized something,” Brad gasped. “Ritza, she took me to this cabin out in the middle of nowhere, I don’t think it’s far from here. I’ll bet that’s where she’s got the girls!”

“Well what’re we waiting for, drive!” Paul demanded.

Fenny heard a door slam and a cacophony of screaming which grew nearer and nearer. The door to the bedroom opened and Ritza’s sister threw Gina into the room, slammed the door, and locked it behind her. The two women stared at each other for a shocked moment before Gina rushed to Fenny and hugged her tightly.

“Oh, Fenny, it’s so good to see you, we were all so worried, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Gina cried breathlessly.

“This is safe?” Fenny demanded.

“Well, you’re not bleeding and you’ve got all of your limbs, I consider that safe, given the circumstances,” Gina shrugged. “I hope the guys know where to find us,” she added, looking around the room.

“The guys?” Fenny asked.

“Yeah, me and Greg and Paul and Brad kinda went off looking for you when we found the note Ritza left.”

“Brad?” Fenny asked softly, not sure how to feel.

“Yeah, he came all the way here looking for you,” Gina said, and Fenny scowled at her. “Look, the kid’s not Brad’s, she was sleeping with her ex-boyfriend or something. They’re not together anymore, so he came here to get you back.”

Things were beginning to click into place. “Which is probably why—“

“Why Ritza’s decided to beat us up and drag us out into the country. Well, that’s why she’s got you, I’m not sure why I’m involved yet. Rona grabbed me when I was trying to figure out where to find you.”

“Rona?” Fenny echoed.

“Ritza’s sister. She’s the one that took the blame for trying to kill Ryan and Drew, but I’m not sure anymore that it’s really all her fault.

“Wait, kill Ryan and Drew? Maybe this is one of those things that you should start from the beginning?”

Gina let out a sigh. “I guess that I should explain things. I’m not entirely sure how this stuff started, but all the Whose Line guys ended up in Australia really hung over, which had something to do with some tattoo Brad has, I don’t know, Greg didn’t go into great detail. But Ritza made Drew out to be a pimp drug dealer. They got back to the States, I don’t know how, but Rona decided that Drew and Ryan knew too much, ‘cause they delivered fake drugs or something. Rona is the evil mastermind behind all this, Ritza claims. So anyway, she kidnapped Drew, then everyone else came over to rescue him, Ryan and Greg picked me up when my car broke down, and when we were sleeping that night, Ryan disappeared, so Greg and I helped Brad and Ritza, who he’d, y’know, slept with by that time and was supposed to be a good guy, we pulled a scene out of some low-budget action thriller to rescue Ryan, they tied up Rona and supposedly got the police on her arse, but I guess not. I guess that’s why Rona doesn’t like me, I was part of the bust. And I think you’re about as up to speed as I am.”

“I am so confused,” Fenny muttered, shaking her head.

“Let me simplify,” Gina said. “We’re in trouble.”

“Thank you,” Fenny sighed and fell backwards onto the bed.

“We’re lost,” Paul mumbled.

“And whose fault is that, fucking navigator,” Greg spat.

“I got us in the general vicinity, didn’t I?” Paul defended. “It’s his fault that he doesn’t know where the damn house is.”

“Well maybe, but if it weren’t for me, we’d be driving in circles waiting for Ritza to jump out behind a bush and yell ‘Here I am, come and get me boys!’ wouldn’t we?” Brad argued.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Greg asked.

“It’s around here somewhere, I know it is. And it can’t be too hard to find, I mean it’s a great big fancy house in the middle of this desert.”

“It’s a needle in a haystack is what it is,” Paul grumbled.

“They’re gonna die of old age before we find this place,” Greg sighed.

Brad turned down a dirt path that was a poor excuse for a road. “Is this where it was?” Paul asked.

“I dunno, this country is 75% dirt roads, I can’t tell them apart. Worth a try, anyway.”

“What do you think the girls are doing right now?” Paul asked.

“Gina’s probably kicking Ritza’s ass,” Greg smirked.

“I hate to say this, but Fenny’s probably cowering in a corner,” Brad said.

“I dunno, Gina has an odd effect on Fen,” Greg mused.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” Paul asked, pointing out his window to a fancy home in the distance.

“Yes!” Brad shrieked, stepping on the gas and kicking up quite a cloud of dust behind them. The jolt from the sudden acceleration knocked Greg’s head against the window.

“I’d like to arrive there in once piece so we can actually help Fen and Gina instead of bleeding on them,” he yelled.

Brad continued on just as recklessly until he pulled up to the house and slammed on the brakes. The back wheels skidded and the dust cloud blocked their vision until the front bumper hit a potted tree, which teetered for a moment before it gently tipped over as the dust settled. “That was so cool,” Brad breathed.

“Do that again and I’ll be forced to remove your testicles with a plastic picnic spoon,” Greg scowled.

“I vote Greg drives next time,” Paul peeped, trembling a bit as he opened the car door and leapt out.

“Brad Sherwood, king of subtlety,” Greg sighed. “Now they’ve got to know we’re here.”

Ignoring the protests, Brad went to the veranda to retrieve the spare key he knew was hidden there, unlocked the front door and stepped inside. It was eerily quiet.

“Where are they?” Paul whispered.

“I don’t know,” Brad whispered back. “Let’s split up.”

“Do we have to?” Paul asked.

“Just go,” Greg demanded, pushing him into the house.

Brad wandered down the hall, checking each room in turn. The familiar bedroom made his stomach flip, and he caught sight of the sheet of paper on the bed. “Hey guys!” he called after reading it. “They’ve left already.”

Paul and Greg piled into the room and read over Brad’s shoulder: I knew you’d remember this place, Brad. For some reason, Fenny wasn’t at all impressed with it. That nosy journalist wasn’t very pleased either. Jackpot!

“What the fuck does that mean?” Paul demanded.

“Jackpot,” Brad mused.

“Jackpot,” Greg echoed. “You don’t think she’s headed for a casino or something, do you?”

“It’s a bit too obvious, I’d think,” Paul nodded.

“She wants us to chase her,” Brad declared. “She’s messing with us. We have to find out what this means.”

“Then she’s probably headed for Melbourne,” Paul shrugged. “That’s where all the casinos are.”

“But I don’t want to go back to Melbourne,” Greg whined. “The last time I was there I got beaten up.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Brad grumbled. “We have to find Fenny. And Gina.”

“I’m only going if you promise to bring your mop,” Greg said, trying not to smile.

“Mop?” Paul said, confused.

“Don’t ask,” Brad sighed, folding up the note and putting it in his pocket. “Come on, we have to get to Melbourne.”

“Greg’s driving,” Paul reminded them as they headed outside.

“Brad, move the tree,” Greg demanded.

“Yes mother,” he groused.

“You knocked it over,” Greg declared.

“Yeah, guess I did,” Brad smiled proudly, reliving his little Miami Vice moment before righting the tree and hopping in the back seat of the car.