“Did you hear a bang?” Gina asked, looking worriedly at Fenny.

“I’m trying to pretend I didn’t,” Fenny replied, looking equally worried.

“If you’ve done anything to hurt those guys…” Gina began.

“You’ll do what?” Rona scorned and produced her gun from the glove compartment. She smiled and pointed it at Gina.

“I’ll insert my Dictaphone up your scrawny arse, so I can tape the sounds of your insides while they scream for mercy as I do something nasty with a rat,” Gina scowled.

Rona cocked the gun. Ritza looked angrily at her as she tried desperately to keep her eyes on the road.

“Will you put that the fuck away,” she hissed.

“Aw, but Ritza, I was starting to have fun,” Rona sulked.

“Put it away,” Ritza ordered.

Rona let out a dejected sigh and put the gun back into the glove compartment. Gina closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.

“I really hope they’re ok,” Fenny whispered.

“I think those three are pretty indestructible,” Gina whispered back.

“Well isn’t it lucky we all got out,” Greg announced, trying to make light of the situation.

“Lucky,” Paul scowled. “How are we lucky? Huh? You tell me? Because I’m not feeling particularly lucky right now. No, actually I’m feeling pretty fucking irate. Not only have you nearly got me killed, and nearly destroyed my wife’s car, but, you’ve managed to get my parents car turned into nothing more than twisted metal, melted fucking plastic and a severely charred stick-on Garfield. I feel about as lucky as those kids in that whole Waco disaster…or those plucky fucking astronauts who thought going on the Challenger would be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I don’t feel lucky I got out, I wish I’d been in the fucking thing, then, then I mightn’t have to explain to my dear aged parents how their prized retirement purchase is now as usable as Ozzy Osbourne’s fucking brain.”

“Are you done?” Greg asked.

“Done, ha…I haven’t even fucking started,” Paul barked.

“All this yelling is getting us nowhere,” Brad stated.

“Well what do you suggest we do?” Greg asked.

“The main road’s not far, we can try and hitch a lift,” Brad suggested.

“Are you fucking crazy. You don’t hitch lifts, especially not in Australia,” Paul scorned.

“Have you got a better idea?” Brad snapped.

“I know how we can get another car,” Greg cut in. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

“Think of what before?” Brad asked.

“Last time we were in this predicament Gina and I stole the heavies’ car,” Greg replied. “I mean, they must be lurking around somewhere.”

“How are we supposed to get rid of two big hulking men with guns?” Paul scorned.

“It’s easier than you think,” Brad mused.

“How long ’til Melbourne?” Fenny whined.

“A few hours,” Gina sighed.

“Oh yay, more time to listen to the same damn try hard, pop bimbette who claims she’s a virgin even though she dresses more whorish than an everyday hooker lined up outside the doors of Jerry Springer,” Fenny hissed.

Rona took the liberty to turn the music up. Fenny kicked the back of her chair.

“Don’t fucking kick the back of my chair,” Rona snapped.

“Turn the electronically created musical bullshit off and I might stop,” Fenny snapped back and kicked Rona’s chair several more times.

Rona unclipped her belt, whipped round and grabbed Fenny’s ankle, digging her nails in. Fenny let out a pained yelp and slammed her other foot against Rona’s hand. Rona screamed and once again attempted to leap between the seats.

“STOP FUCKING ABOUT,” Ritza yelled as she began to swerve across the road.

Gina watched Fenny and Rona struggling against each other. Rona was pulling Fenny’s hair and Fenny was trying to rip Rona’s ears off.

“Hey Rona, ya scrag,” Gina perked.

Rona looked up and Gina thrust her fist into Rona’s face. Blood gushed from her nose as Gina rubbed her hand.

“You fucking bitch,” Rona squealed and grabbed a pile of tissues.

“Did you break it?” Fenny asked as she caught her breath.

“I hope so,” Gina smiled.

“What’s that?” Paul breathed.

“It’s a car, everyone hide,” Greg announced and rushed behind a tree. Brad lay low in some long grass and Paul climbed a large gum.

They’d just gotten hidden as a familiar black car came speeding down the road. It slowed to a halt near the burnt remains of Paul’s parents’ car. The two heavies slid out of their car and surveyed the wreckage and Greg put his plan into action. He tiptoed out from behind the tree and made a dash for the car, crouched down at the front to make sure the heavies were preoccupied, then crept into the driver’s seat. Brad, following Greg’s lead, moved as quickly and as quietly as he could as he slid into the passenger seat.

“Where’s McDermott?” Greg hissed through gritted teeth.

His question was answered when there was a loud “BANG” on the roof above him.

“Get in here,” Greg breathed as Paul jumped the ground. Paul’s less-quiet approach had alerted the heavies.

“OI,” yelled one.

“Oh fuck,” Paul gasped and clambered into the back seat.

Greg put his foot down and they left the heavies in a cloud of dust.

“WOOHOO! WE DID IT,” Brad cheered.

“Two billion points to us,” Greg grinned.

“Points?” Paul said bewildered.

“Hey, look, they left their cell phone,” Brad perked, producing the phone from the floor. Just as he did it began to ring.

“Fuck,” Greg gasped. “Who is it?”

“Ritza,” Brad breathed.

“Give it to Paul, she won’t recognize his voice,” Greg ordered.

“Hey,” Paul peeped as the phone landed in his lap. He picked it up and answered it in the deepest voice his could muster. “Hello.”

“Are they dead?” Ritza’s voice, which could be clearly be heard, asked.

“Of course they’re dead, the car is a fucking burning wreck, there’s no way they could’ve survived.”

“Excellent.”

“Can I share the news with our new friends?”

“Oh he’s smart,” Brad mused.

“I would never have thought of that,” Greg added.

“Sure, why not,” Ritza purred.

Paul listened as the phone was passed through the car.

“What have you done?” Gina snapped.

“What have I done? Charcoal grilled your friends, that’s what,”

Gina recognized Paul’s voice instantly. “You heartless bastard.”

“Tell the boss we’re on our way to Melbourne and we look forward to meeting up.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

Paul hushed his voice so only Gina would be able to hear. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You mean like breaking Rona’s nose?”

Paul slapped his head. “I hope the boss slaps you for that.”

“Fuck you too,” Gina scorned and ended the call. She passed the phone back to Ritza.

“Well?” Fenny mouthed.

“That was Paul,” Gina mouthed back.

Fenny fought hard not to look surprised.

“Are they ok?” Greg and Brad asked together.

“I think so. I only talked to Gina,” Paul replied, chucking the phone on the seat next to him.

“Is she ok?” Greg asked trying not to sound as desperate as he did.

“Yeah, she broke Rona’s nose,” Paul laughed.

“But you didn’t hear Fen?” Brad whined.

“Don’t worry, I’ll work on that next time. I’m sure Ritza will be calling back,” Paul mused.

Fenny closed her eyes and leant her head against the window. She felt slightly more relaxed knowing that Brad was ok. Gina was picking the nail polish off her nails out of boredom, while Rona was still dabbing her now swollen nose. Suddenly there were several large bangs and the car began to swerve.

“Fuck, the tyres have been blown out,” Rona gasped.

“Worse, Gino and his men have shot them out,” Ritza peeped as the car stopped after sliding into a fence.

“Jesus,” Rona spat and grabbed her gun from the glove compartment. She opened her door and crouched behind it for protection, Ritza did the same.

Fenny and Gina looked at each other and then slid down in their seats as far as they could go.

“Now what?” Fenny whispered.

“We could make a run for it?” Gina suggested.

“And risk getting shot?” Fenny gasped.

“It’s either that or several more hours of Celine,” Gina breathed.