LNH/ACRA: Alt.stralian Yarns #8: Fun With Immature Sexual References

Tarq mitchell_crouch at caladrius.com.au
Tue Mar 6 23:21:06 PST 2007

by Mitchell Crouch


Been-Out-Bush-For-Way-Too-Long Man ran out onto the street, where his
lifelong best friend, Bingo, had just been hit by a bus, three taxis,
and a helicopter/submarine/you-get-the-drift.

"Bingo!" he cried theatrically as he knelt beside his canine
companion. "You little bugger, what did I tell you about playin' on
the road, eh?"

Bingo got up and barked friendlily. Been-Out-Bush raised an eyebrow
and growled before kicking him angrily. "I told you 'fucking don't',
you little mongrel!"

Joining back up with City-Slicker Gent and his missus, he resumed
looking around casually. "Yeah. So. Screwball, huh?"

"We'll never find him now," cursed Gent. "He could be anywhere. Well,
almost anywhere. He couldn't be here."

"Or could he?" countered Been-Out-Bush-For-Way-Too-Long Man. "I know
of only one man screwed up enough to pilot a bus, three taxis, and a
helicopter/submarine/you-get-the-drift into an innocent little critter
like Bingo. Do _you_?"

And from the smoking pile of wreckage emerged Screwball, his blue
spandex (I don't think I mentioned that he has blue spandex with a big
shiny silver screw-shaped logo on the chest, but he does) undamaged.
"Curses, eh!" he cursed. "I had not prepared for such a ridiculously
useless plot twist! But I will not make that same eh. Mistake twice!"

There was a short silence which was broken by the missus: "Do you
perhaps mean, 'I will not make that same mistake again', and then
possibly with the 'eh' afterwards? You can't just split the sentence
up like that."

"Or eh. Can I?"

The missus went flying back against the hardware store with the force
of Screwball's bad grammar. City-Slicker Gent and Been-Out-Bush braced
themselves as BOBFWTLMan cried, "Sick 'em, Bingo!"

Bingo dived at the supervillain, licking him neighbourly on the shin.

"What the --" Screwball looked from Bingo to BOB to Bingo. "What's
that meant to do, eh?"

Bingo began to, gosh, how would you put it... Look, it really isn't an
easy thing to put into writing, you know? It's like... there's just so
many words for it. I don't know which one to use. Six of one, half a
dozen of the other, you know? I s'pose I'll just say it right out,
then. Give it to you straight, you know? Bingo started to screw his
leg. There, I said it. You know how dogs do that. Well, Bingo's no
different. Or a lot different, considering that he'd been raised on
supersteer beef. You can imagine the effects that that would have on
his anatomy, if you get what I'm saying, eh? Eh? Yeah, I've really run
out of things to say now. But it worked a lot better than "Bingo
started to make out with Screwball's foot." Because that really has no
elegance to it at all, but at least I managed to maintain a sliver of
dignity this way. Although I suppose that the longer I continue to
ramble, the more redundant and annoying this paragraph becomes. How

"Gah, eh!!" shrieked the Screwball as he attempted to shake Bingo off
with ever-increasing ferocity. "This spandex is brand new! Cost me a
fortune! I don't want it to get... y'know, eh, wrecked!"

But, as I mentioned before, a dog raised on supersteer beef has had
incredible changes made to his metabolism. And by the time Screwball
did manage to shake him loose, Bingo had mustered enough energy to
have transformed into a creature reminiscent of the common werewolf,
although more like a child version of one. And less of a wolf and more
of a cattle dog. But the point is, he'd transformed from Bingo into
Bingo, the Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature!

"What, eh?!" Screwball's brow furrowed with increasing incredulity.
"This is just... no, seriously, what? First you manage to re-find me by
not doing anything, and then you combat me by getting your dog to hump
my leg, which inexplicably transforms him into some sort of super-
powered Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature?"

Bingo, the Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature did the equivalent of a
werewolf howl, except it came out as a "cluck, cluck cluck cluck!" and
gosh darn lasers shot out of his eyes.

Been-Out-Bush-For-Way-Too-Long Man smirked. "I told ya that supersteer
and hulkhen was good for them powers, didn' I?"

City-Slicker Gent nodded, his flabber totally gasted. "But... you've
been eating supersteer and hulkhen as well. Heck, even the missus and
I had some! What would have happened to _our_ anatomies?"

BOB shrugged non-interestedly as Bingo, the Boy Were-Cattle-Dog
Creature enthusiastically beat Screwball up. "Who knows? I'm sure that
it will all be revealed at another moment when plot-twists are scarce,
and the author needs a get-out-of-gaol-free card due to his inherently
bad writing."

Gent nodded acceptingly, and went back to watching the supervillain-on-
Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature smackdown. After a moment, he murmured,
"I should probably go check on my missus, see if she's alright after
absorbing the full blow of that horrific grammar. Y'know, seeing as
how we've come all the way to Syd.net just to save her and all that."

Been-Out-Bush-For-Way-Too-Long Man gave the characteristic bushman's
grunt, and continued to watch the brawl until the local law-
enforcement agency, more commonly known as the coppers, came along to
drag the badly beaten Screwball away. Once they were done, and a
paramedic had checked up on the missus (who was, by the way, okay, not
that she really matters much at all), another policeman came up to
BOB, leading Bingo, the Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature along by his

"Sir, is this your Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature?"

"True blue, mate."

"Well, I was wondering if you could keep it on a leash. You know, just
to ensure he doesn't go and piddle on any lampposts without your full

Been-Out-Bush raised his eyebrow. "I assure you, officer, I am
perfectly aware of every lamppost upon which my Boy Were-Cattle-Dog
Creature has piddled."

"If you says so, sir." The policeman turned and left as BOB tipped his

Ruffling Bingo, the Boy Were-Cattle-Dog Creature's top-of-head-fur,
BOBFWTLMan joined up with City-Slicker Gent and his missus. "Well,
cousin," began the Fantastical Farmer. "All turned out alright in the
end, yeah?"

Gent nodded. "Yeah. And, hey, Been-Out?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Sorry for taking advantage of you and everything. And... thanks, for,
y'know, coming through and everything. Saving the day."

"Sure thing, mate." The two cousins shook each other's hands
comradely, warm smiles on their faces. "This'll be a beaut story to
tell someone one day."

"Tell someone?" City-Slicker's eyes bulged. "As if anyone would ever
believe that my third-cousin's super-dog transformed into a Boy Were-
Cattle-Dog Creature after hibity-dibity with the foot of a
supervillain who kidnapped my nameless missus. It defies all logic."

His cousin nodded agreeably. "Yeah, I s'pose here in the big smoke you
don't hear about that sort of thing much. Happens all the time out in
the bush, though, believe you me."

"Oh?" City-Slicker Gent's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Got any fine
examples you'd care to share with the rest of us?"

"Actually, you know what, mate," Been-Out-Bush-For-Way-Too-Long Man
drawled, "I do know this one good yarn..."


And thus ends the first grand tale of Been-Out-Bush-For-Way-Too-Long
Man, in a completely different fashion then I had originally intended
it to. The original ending had the supersteers involved in the way
that I had designed them to be, right from the start, but in the end I
decided that that ending was far too random and hey, where are they
going to get a supersteer from in the middle of Syd.net? All that can
wait until the next yarn. Combined with what I just told you about
supersteers, the main focus of the next story-arc can be pretty much
worked out by small instances of foreshadowing throughout the series,
particularly in #6, I think, combined with a tiny bit of background
information mentioned in A Journey Through the Minds of the Seemingly
Unstable. But it's not worth re-reading it when you could just wait a
week until the next Yarn begins. Maybe between now and sometime
relatively later I'll post a TEB of this first yarn. Maybe.

Also, is it just me, or are the issues of Yarns getting shorter and
shorter? Jeepers. Don't worry, the next one will be longer.


More information about the racc mailing list