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Dave and Wal Show

By: EgmontGrigor2011



CHAPTER 1

Work on the 5-level 'Faraway Apartments' being built in a southern suburb of Sydney halted when the developer lost his shirt in a 72-hour gambling spree and jumped off a cliff into reputedly shark-infested waters of a tidal inlet but it was low tide and the exposed rocks claimed him.

Two university dropouts, Dave Jellicoe and his best mate Wal Slater, were unceremoniously dropped into unemployment. They were paid off when being declared redundant but were resentful.

"We didn't get our overdue six-monthly bonus," Dave said sourly over his beer.

"Yeah we should extract our revenge," said his mate.

The Sydney Morning Herald reported next day the home of recently deceased property developer Archibald Clearway had been razed to the ground by fire overnight due apparently to an electrical fault. Wiring of the gracious 150-year old homestead was considered substandard. Mr Clearway's constant companion, well-known female impersonator Philip Glass, was away grieving at his parents' home in Noosa at the time of the fire.

Dave leader of the duo said, "What an unfortunate loss to the receivers winding up Arch's cash-strapped business. What do you want to do now?"

"We should grab a couple of cooperative shelia's and have a week of excess in Hunter Valley, drinking famous reds and teaching those female what a real foursome is like."

"Wal please, try to find your nicer side. We need to be back in employment before we can afford to waste money on debauchery." 

"Then let's get a job."

"The labor market is really tight now, back to being union-controlled in these times of economic recession and those guys make sure the few jobs that are going go to brethren."

"That's not fair."

"Whoever but you believe bosses and unions could be fair Wal? I'm going home because a bed and food will be provided free. Keep in touch."

Wal sniffed, "Where will I go?"

"Home."

"But my mother had remarried."

"You idiot, walk in and show them who is boss."

Wal spent the next six weeks with his arm in a splint. He'd never realized his mom could fight dirty. He had her new husband in a headlock when she slammed the marble rolling pin against his upper arm, fracturing the humerus. 

He howled in pain and she was so sorry. When she returned with him from the hospital A&E she said he could stay.

Later that week Dave watched his sister Judy making brownies and wished she would wear a nightdress that didn't have a split up the back because looking so far up the back of her thighs was making him horny. He watched her baking and kept looking at her legs, being ignorant until now that Judy had developed great pins. He adjusted the crotch of his pants and mused what else had she developed that would interest a guy? 

Judy was about to start scooping out the mix when he said, "You've forgotten the cup confectioners' sugar."

"Oh god thanks. Since when did you learn to cook?"

"Never really but I get by doing the basics after having spent years watching mom and our aunts cooking. Wal is hopeless at cooking so I do meals and he cleans up."

Judy added the sugar, put the Brownies into the oven and turned on the timer.

"How can I reward you?" she smiled.

He suggested something. 

She blushed hugely and called him a foul bastard.

"Okay, forget it."

But Judy found she was interested.

"Show me your dick and then I'll decide."

Judy was at the kitchen table stepping out of her panties when their mother came in.

"Judy what the hell are you doing?"

Judy made the mistake of saying nothing. 

"You lying little bitch. Go to your room. God Dave put that ugly thing away."

Dave made coffee for his mom and she cooled down at bit. He then removed the brownies and she praised him for being about to cook so well. He didn't mind taking the credit.

"It's a pity more young men like you can't cook. They spend too much on buying junk food and eating out expensively."

That comment gave Dave and idea. He went over to one of his mate's home with a half dozen cans of bitter. Frank also lived at home, finding it was cheaper.

"Hi come in," Frank said, eyeing the beer.

Dave tossed him a can and as he ripped open the tab he said casually, "Eva home?"

"Yeah only just. She won't be interested in you. Charlie Hamill is shafting her."

"That's cool. I wish to talk business."

"Ha what business, you're unemployed?"

"Then I'm off," Dave said, picking up the four full cans.

"Eva!"

The pretty brunette came out in just a robe.

Both guys looked at the top curves of her tits and licked their lips.

"Oh hi Dave. Found work yet?"

"I want to do a program on TV. You still work in TV don't you?"

"Yeah. So what experience have you had and how many shows on your CV Dave?"

"What's a CV?"

"Oh God."

Frank said, "He's pulling your tit Eva."

"Oooh."

Both guys looked at her tits again and she stared back unperturbed.

"Get me the chance to talk to the person in charge of developing local content Eva."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Wal Slater and I want to present a cooking show."

"We have enough of them already."

"Ours would be unique, billed as preliminary steps for guys who want to know how to cook. And we'll ham it up."

"We'll I guess you could ham it up, you both are idiots."

"You never used to speak to me like that when..."

Eva colored hugely and said, "Yes I'll do it."

Her brother yawned and said gee that was a quick change of mind and Dave tossed him another can.

* * *

Dave and Wal waited on the kitchen set in the studio nervously.

"Do you think we can pull this off?" Wal asked and was told they were about to find out.

A blonde with cute tits and a fleshy mouth, probably aged just under forty, came in and said, "Hi I'm Biddie Jacka, your intended program executive producer if we believe it is good enough to screen. You must be Dave, you look to be the intelligent one."

"Nah he's Dave," Dave said pointing to Wal and Biddie said she wasn't talking to him.

The guys grinned and when Wal said he was Wal Biddie groaned. "Oh I guess that was an example of your native humor?"

"Yeah, real slick don't you think," Dave said and was ignored.

Biddie said the program development team believed the concept had some merit but everything would hinge on the ability of the guys to pull it off on-camera. 

"I can't believe I'm saying this but we have confidence in you guys. We have decided to accept your proposal that you should not receive training in acting or in proper speech but one of our trainers will teach you some of the elementary rules...

"Like no farting on camera," Dave grinned.

"... elementary rules in appearing on camera as actors."

"That's to be expected Mrs Jacka."

"Thank you Wal You both may call me Biddie."

"I bid fifty bucks for two nights of lust with you."

Dave sighed. "Can it Wal." 

"Let me think about that Wal," Biddie smiled, a woman who looked up to a guy with rough edges and wide shoulders.

* * *

The team project received funding to produce six programs of the 'Dave and Wal's Cooking Show for Dudes' that included funding for some newspaper advertising. Against cries of anguish from other producers seeking prime time, Biddie who had commenced a torrid affair with Wal, gained the Tuesday 7:00 pm slot for her new show.

Dave and Wal had watched the pilot screening of their initial efforts and the incredulous faces of the watching studio personnel.

"Don't worry about them," Biddie said as her husband arrived to take her to dinner. "That lot think that professionalism rules. They've lost touch with the great unwashed public."

"Eh?" said the guys who couldn't believe what Biddie had just said. They had assumed balling the public was a no-no.

The two nervous unproven TV presents met in the lounge bar of their favorite hotel that had been reserved for them and eleven of their mates and partners plus their Dave and Wal's families.

Frank arrived with his sister Eva who promptly sat on Dave's lap, bit his ear and cooed how exciting this must be for him as she unzipped him. Dave looked around nervously for Frank but he was chatting up Lisa Donald who'd arrived uninvited.

The opening show of the mini-mini series was a rare public display of what's known as 'Aussie bloke's humor' and viewers were generally captivated.

"G'day Australia. I'm Dave and this 'ere is my old mate Wanda, er I mean Wal who'd do anything for me include steal my last beer. Stay where you are and watch because this will become the Prime Minister's favorite show. We'll probably be invited to London to present a Command Royal Performance for Harry and William, oh and Philip the Earl of Merioneth too because none of them can cook except to warm up yesterday's hamburgers."

"Okay, here we go after two years of studio rehearsing. Toss me an egg Wal. For guys who can't cook, this is how to boil an egg."

Hal tossed an egg from eight feet away, Dave ducked and it splattered on to the lens of the filming camera.

The studio guests burst into raucous laughter, as did everyone watching the big screen TV in the hotel lounge.

"Hal's mom confided to me once he was an ill-disciplined little bastard when he was a boy. Well have we got news for his mom. Perhaps she's watching. Hal's mom had a walking problem because her breasts hang incredibly low"

The studio audience was silent.

"Laugh you lot of fence sitters. I had to get Mrs Slater's approval to use that line. As she stated in the legal release, "Ain't that the truth. With the size of mine it's not something you can hide or can walk with comfortably."

Everyone in the studio cackled and the loudest laugh in the bar lounge came from Gwen Slater, Hal's mum.

Dave picked up a huge egg and placed it in boiling water.

"Chook eggs usually take 3 minutes and 31 seconds to boil hard guys but this Emu egg will probably take 51 minutes to hard boil but I'd give it another five in case the chick inside isn't properly cooked. The egg was certified by our studio vet as being DOA, that means being dead on arrival at the studio through being eight weeks since it's mum gave up on it."

"Oh no," someone in the audience shouted.

"You don't believe me? Well hold your noses, I'll crack it open for proof."

The entire studio audience shouted no.

"Well guys, that's the basic principle of cooking eggs. If you wish to make an omelet for yourself, just chuck three eggs into a cocktail shaker like this, oh or is it preferable to crack them on the bar and empty the contents into the shaker? Look most cooks I foul up a times. Add a quarter teaspoon of salt or a tablespoon of salt if you prefer salted to taste. What have I left out Wal?"

"Half a cup of self-raising flour."

"Not that's for half-size cup cakes."

"Oh half a cup of bitter beer."

"Yeah Wal, thanks," said Dave, who zapped open a can of Victorian Bitter, gulped down most of it and tipped the rest into the shaker, placed the lid on and shook it vigorously.

Dave then scratched his head. "Now what?"

"Put it in a fry pan with a little butter," shouted several women.

"Oh thanks ladies. Your explicit directions are appreciated."

He dropped the shaker into the pan and tossed in half a pound of butter.

The women in the audience were killing themselves in laughter.

A woman ran over, hauled out the shaker, tipped out most of the butter into a cooking basin and told Dave to pour the contents of the shaker into the pan, removed as much of the shells as possible and coddle what was left.

"How do you cuddle a hot pan?"

"Oh darling Dave," she said. "You are so funny, you ought to be on television."

"Hey before you go, how do you open a shaker?"

"Like this," Wal said, and pulled off the lid violently, spilling egg all over himself.

"Wal your clown, you had dinner half an hour ago," Dave laughed, scratching under an armpit and sniffing loudly.

Dave scowled and said, "Well someone's yelling into this thing in my ear we're over time. Why don't these TV asses on chairs relax and let the show run it's natural course? Oh well, we better pause for an urination break."

The show then took an ad break.

"Oh darling simply fabulous," Eva cooed, licking Dave's mouth.

When she was finished he stood, zipped up and went around to talk to the guests. Most of them seemed to be serious when they said that he and Wal were new TV sensations.

* * *

But there was disappointment for Dave and Wal. Two TV critics on late news that evening panned the show, generally in agreement that it was corny, stupid, coarse, mindless, and under-acted and a total waste of expensive TV resources.

"Ignore them," Biddie said when dropping in on them at home. "Those critics tend to feel only comfortable with the familiar. We'll know wider public reaction tomorrow with letters to the editor in newspaper, radio talkback reaction perhaps but we at the studio are comfortable, having watched your studio audience.

"So what else will tomorrow bring?" Wal asked, scratching his nuts.

Biddie said the thing that really counted, release of data for sample surveying of household TV viewing the previous evening, giving ratings.

"Being a small station we only have a small percentage of market share in our transmission area and that's limited to the Sydney region. But we will compare the estimate based on a survey sample of how many people stuck with your show last night and compare that figure with historical figures for our other shows, particularly the first night of a continuing show. As soon as those figures are out we will receive requests from the media for interviews."

Dave said, "Are you really expected that?"

"Yes of course. Your public liked you."

Dave looked doubtful.

They were working on script for some skits when Biddie walked in and said, "Pour me coffee."

Wal jumped because he was becoming used to jumping Biddie.

She opened her electronic notebook and said, "Figures show you held and entertained 128,650 viewers last night, the third highest first night audience for any program generated by us. Of course one-off films and other syndicated programs we buy in have notched up larger audiences. Our director of programming is very pleased and our chairman sent me a personal email congratulating me."

Wal asked, "Did he mention us?"

"He has no idea who you are. Standby."

Biddie took a phone call and said, "Yes thirty minutes is fine."

"A reporter and photographer from the Evening Star will be here to interview you in thirty minutes guys. Go brush your teeth and use under-arm deodorant. The interviewer will be Sandy Jennings."

"God she's a former beauty queen."

"Dave," Biddie said looking pained. "Women can be beautiful and still have a brain and be talented enough to be a newspaper reporter."

"Oh sure," he said recovering. "You are a fine example of that."

Biddie minced out of the room, waggling her tail.

The station's PR officer phoned Dave and said to be in Studio 3 in ten minutes. "Several of us will be watching so please try not to embarrass the station. Miss Jennings wants a TV camera and lighting stands in the background for a photograph to make the photo look atmospheric."

"What's that?"

"To show without saying she actually interviewed you two in your working environment in a TV studio."

"Oh thanks Kate."

"That's being familiar," sniffed Mrs Scott.

Dave chuckled and made kissing noises. "That's how I am darling... uncouth."

"Dave this is Miss Jennings from the Evening Star."

"Hi Sandy. You still have your looks and a great body."

Mrs Scott looked about to explode.

"Thanks Davie, you don't look too bad yourself but a bit of beer residue is showing over your gut."

"Yes the weakness of man," he smiled and she laughed.

"Kate you haven't introduced my partner."

"Oh yes, I apologize. Miss Jennings this in Wal who also appears in the show."

"Hi Wal."

"Hi Miss Jennings. It's a real privilege to meet such a high-achieving woman."

"Oh Wal, okay give me the big let down."

"No I wasn't kidding. I called mum and said you were coming in to interview us and she dropped the phone and huffed and puffed and said I must remember the experience. It would be almost like meeting royalty."

"Thank you Wal. Now let's get on with it please."

"Would you like a beer Sandy?"

"No thanks Dave. It's only mid-morning."

"The beer we drink doesn't have a time-lock on the cans."

"Oh very droll. Where were you born Davie?"

"In a private maternity hospital corridor. Mom dropped me out before they'd walked her all the way to her cubicle."

"Oh how interesting. What about you Wal?"

"I was born and raised here in Sydney Miss Jennings and lived all of my early life in Campsie. Dave and I have shared a flat in Bondi Junction with three young females for the past two years and Dave is the only one of us who can cook."

"You confirm that Dave."

"Yeah Sandy and that's why I haven't married. It's rare to find a young woman who can cook. All they seem to want to do is hang out in bars, work to gain promotion and chase after sex. They have no wish to marry this side of forty but they don't mind if a couple of kids come along before then."

"What do these women you share with do, work in shops?"

"One manages a boutique dress shop in Double Bay, one is financial controller in a branch of an international insurance company and the third is a criminal lawyer. All are Wal and my age, thirty-one."

"How interesting," she said, obviously astonished, and the interview continued for another thirty minutes.

The male photographer spent most of his time setting them up at a small table with a big TV camera in close in the background as a prop. He wanted the guys to pose in am arm wrestle and worked them through fifteen positions until he was satisfied and then took three shots and said he was finished.

"When will you take the photograph?" Dave asked as the guy bagged his camera.

The photographer looked at Sandy who said, "You are not required to understand Pat; it's called a lower form of non-stop humor.

The interview with a great arm wrestle close-up picture appeared on page five of the newspaper that afternoon.

The story began, 'Two guys who rocked a section of viewers watching TV in Sydney last night, Dave Jellicoe and Walt Slater, starred in a cooking send-up on Harbor TV in prime time at 7:00.'

Sandy quoted show producer Biddie Jacka as saying, "Our program director bit the bullet and took a risk telling me when I attempted to sell him the concept that the pilot filming indicated the humor was so lousy that it might really work. Sydney might be ready for a cooking show send-up. Our confidence was rewarded. We attracted and held a good-sized audience for us and I believe the show will get better and better. My two guys are desperate to keep in work, being unemployed when they came in with their novel idea for a short series. We all know how desperation can ignite motivation. I also believe these guys have Aussie working class humor nailed."

'Wal the two-man show's fall guy was asked about his ambition. Looking at the female interviewer he said, nodding in serious contemplation, "To have a body like yours Miss Jennings." He acts like a dork but actually he has some appeal.'

'And his pal when asked the same question?'

'He said, "To date you Sandy, to cook you a dinner you will never forget and then to lay back and watch you do the dishes, waiting for you to come over and take me". He didn't say where he would take me to.'

The interview continued on that slightly wacky trend but included considerable factual information about the two men who'd burst from nowhere on to the TV screen.

Sandy concluded: 'I started watching the opening show, went to change channels but found myself hooked. It is rare for me to laugh so much watching TV. I believe these guys have got it. Please email me if you think I should date Dave, or alternatively tell me no.'


Dave and Wal Show



Wal and Dave were amazed Sandy had written that last bit but they thought overall it was a great article. Biddie and Mrs Scott the station's PR officer thought so too.

Another newspaper and three magazine interviews followed.

The guys worked on replacing their opening show of skits with an even better line-up.

The second show opened with Dave in the kitchen alone. He put a prune on the side of a chef's big knife and flicked it up in the air and it didn't come down.

He tried again and the prune bounced off his head.

He tried again and instead of catching it in his mouth it landed in his eye.

The studio audience screamed in laugher.

Dave gave up and a female's voice on the inter-com boomed out, "A reporter Miss Jennings from the Evening Star is coming through Dave. She wishes to interview you."

Dave made exaggerated movements to brush his fringe back and then to check that his zip was up. His finger got caught in the zip and he howled in pain and pulled it free.

"Hi Mr Jellicoe, I'm Sandy Jennings," called someone in a falsetto voice. That obviously was Wal.

"Oh Sandy Bottom from the mighty Sydney newspaper, the Evening Star."

"It's Sandy Jennings actually."

"What is?"

"Oh it doesn't matter. Could you demonstrate your cooking prowess for me? I wish to write an award-winning story for my newspaper."

"Oh you award your own awards?"

"Yes, that's why I have so many. Eight or nine hundred of them I believe."

"Right I'll make scones. Then you can take them home to your husband."

"I'm not married."

"Oh living in sin?"

"What?"

"Oh never mind. Feed the scones to seagulls and then see if they can take-off with a gutful of my cooking. That sort of thing sure beats working."

While Dave busied himself at the fridge, 'Miss Jennings' scratched at one of her boobs, frowned theatrically, and pulled it out. It was a huge bandage and she lost hold and it dropped unraveled, the studio audience screaming in laughter. She kicked that under the table and grabbed a glass bowl and thrust that down the front of her dress, giving herself one very large boob compared with the other one. She put on more lipstick, missing her lips so the circle went over the tip of her nose and return to go two inches below the bottom lip. 

Some of the studio audience was almost in hysterics.

"Well here goes," said Dave and looking at Miss Jennings he asked, "Has one of your boobs punctured and what have you done to your face? Is that your tribal marking?"

"Please stop being personal. Before I know it you'll be asking for sex."

"Excuse me but the way you are built it won't be me doing the asking."

"Please get on with it."

"No this is a family cooking show. That sort of behavior ..."

"Get on with the cooking."

"Okay I can't remember quantities and whether I need to add golden syrup as well as baking soda but here goes. Guys listen carefully because I don't repeat my fabulous recipes:

Four cups of flour A tablespoon of baking powder A tablespoon of baking soda Quarter cup of salt Half of pound of butter Two cups of golden syrup A pint of milk."

"As you can see Sandy it's a very simple recipe."

"Are you sure about those quantities and shouldn't the golden syrup stay in the tin Master Chef?"

"No but does it matter? This is cooking instruction for men. They never take any notice of instructions and toss in extra of everything for good measure."

Dave rolled up his sleeves, tossed everything into a large mixing bowl and sank his hands in and began mixing. His hand mixing slowed as Sandy said crossly, "You didn't wash your hands."

"Why is that important?"

The audience looked sympathetic when Sandy just sighed.

Dave's hands came to a stop.

"Help me Sandy. Something's gone wrong. My hands are stuck. The mix is setting like concrete."

"I'm out of here," Sandy said, picking up her huge yellow handbag. "I'll feed the seagulls fish."

Dave looked up pathetically at the studio audience.

"Is there anyone out there with a comment?"

A woman stood at the studio audience clapped and looked at the beautiful woman admiringly.

Dave grinned. "Well damn me how unlucky can a guy get? It's the real Sandy Bottom, er Sandy Jennings, former beauty queen and now an award-winning newspaper reporter. Greetings Sandy. Have you decided to date me?"

"Yes I've received 500 emails from readers of the Evening News following publication of my interview of this show's first night screening."

"Oh brilliant. Five hundred people can't be wrong."

"All but ten of those 500 people pleaded with me not to go out with you, but then I've never been one to take instructions."

"Oh you must have male hormones. Well going out with you will be beaut Sandy. I'll treat you at my favorite burger bar over a can of beer."

The audience clapped and Dave said, "Do you have a final word Sandy?"

"Yes sweetie. Don't you every attempt to make scones in my pristine kitchen."

The studio audience loved it.

Dave called, "Time for a urination break people. Could someone get a jack-hammer to free my hands?"

The seventy-two people with Dave and Wal in the lounge bar watching the pre-recorded show were wiping their eyes and smiling fondly at the two guys. Only two scowling couples had walked out.

Biddie kissed both guys and said, "It's a cracker. I'll call you to the staff cafeteria in the morning."

"What for a beer?"

"Why don't you try to relax Dave," she sighed.

Biddie screamed into the phone to Wal, "You guys to the cafeteria NOW!"

Wal said, "I think our show's cancelled."

"Bullshit mate. Biddie called the second show a cracker. My money's on Biddie."

"Save your money mate. She does it for free."

Dave managed to look serious. "Why don't you try to relax Wal?"

"Huh?"

The cafeteria was crowded and everyone clapped when Wal and Dave entered, smiling brightly.

"As I said, the show was a cracker," Wal said, placing an arm over Dave's shoulder.

"Remove your arm mate or else you are dog tucker."

Wal hastily placed two hands behind his back and walked like Prince Philip.

People stood back to allow them through to where a small group of guys in black striped business suits and four women aping them in black-stripped business suits stood.

"Hi Dave, I'm the CEO Charles Bates. Your show is a cracker."

"Do you know enough about television to make that judgment Charlie? You're only the CEO?"

Charles was quite taken aback and people around him gasped.

"My wife and I and our two kids watched both shows and we laughed."

"Right Charlie, that's good enough for me. Thanks for your compliment. I suggest you note it's not my show. It's also Wal's show, Biddie's show, Claire the director's show and everyone else who works on the show. Wal and I would be nothing without them."

"Point taken Dave. I hadn't realized you possess a serious side. Well apparently you are the only two people in this building who don't read your compulsory-to-read emails. Your um the Dave and Wal Show last night held 485,336 viewers, breaking our previous highest viewing audience by more than 100,000."

"Gee that's pretty good isn't it?"

"Yes Wal. It's fantastic Sydney is waking up to you two guys and this morning we signed up the first advertiser who specifically asked for a urination ad break."

The crowd laughed and laughed even more when Dave said, "Great Charlie, you're capable of being funny."

"Well you guys are being paid a bonus..."

"We want that money spread over everyone in the show Mr Bates, you guys can work out fair proportionate distribution," Wal said. Dave said yeah.

"Oh, okay then. You guys are amazing. Well the next big news is Phil Lucas our program director wants funding to allow the show to run a full 26-week season and we will approve that."

"But that means hard work for 26 weeks plus the lead-in time. Fair go Charlie, you're pushing us hard. Everyone else is on salary so you best push up our pay rate."

"Already done Wal, your pay rate is being trebled and back-dated."

"Wal and I find that acceptable thanks Charlie. We were thinking of calling Channel 7 to see if they were interested in us."

Charlie turned white.

"Just kidding."

Charlie relaxed.

CHAPTER 2

"Fat pay rise, good eh?"

Wal nodded.

The guys were walking down to sign up for credit cards. They'd previously never had made enough money to find credit card ownership useful.

They were disappointed that everyone they saw in George Street didn't recognize them. They decided the two women who did smile warmly at them were hookers.

However as they entered the bank in Martin Place a female yelled, "Omigod Wal and Dave, super cooks."

There was bedlam and they were rushed, female tellers closing their stations and racing out to join the adoration. Security escorted the guys into the day manager's office and then cleared the crowd.

They left the bank with platinum cards and fees waivered for the first two years on the understanding they'd work in the name of the bank into two episodes of the show. 

"You mean have a skit about robbing your bank."

The manager turned white.

As they walked from the bank, with people waving and calling good luck, Wal said, "Why do bank tellers have big tits?"

"Well the guys worked out in the gym and the females were born that way. Are you sure they are called tellers. I thought in these times they would be called customer service providers."

"Does it matter?"

"No Wal but we like bank tellers who have big tits and our bank does pretty well in our score."

They took home champagne and Carla, Rosie and Di were full of news about how people at their workplaces were raving about last night's show.

"We watched with our boyfriends last night and they couldn't believe us when we insisted you guys weren't acting, that you're like that all the time," Rosie said.

"Yeah and they can't believe you are about to nail Sandy Beach, um Sandy Jennings Dave. She'd such a class act."

Di smiled sweetly. "Yeah a real class act. We thought you must have paid her to say on TV she'll date you."

Dave sighed and said, "Let's go out for dinner tonight. I feel like eating food I can enjoy."

The girls and Wal laughed thinking he was joking.

Next morning the PR officer Mrs Scott came in, kissed Dave and smiled warmly at Wal.

Kate said, the Westfield Shopping Centre at Bondi Junction wants you two to made a public appearance for two hours from 11:30 this Saturday and sign autographs."

"Sorry Kate, cannot do that. Wal and I always go fishing on Saturdays."

"The appearance free for each of you is $3500."

"What time did you say Mrs Scott?" Wal asked.

As they left, the guys promising to be there on time, Wal said, "Why does she kiss you?"

"Dunno. The instinct of a young mother I guess."

Wal scratched his nuts. "What does that mean?"

"I have no idea."

They hade just returned from finishing recording their next show. Mrs Scott came into the guy's office. She gave Wal fifty bucks and told him to go buy a beer. As he left, looking curious, he heard the door being locked behind him.

He grinned with dawning enlightenment.

Traffic is always at a crawl around Bondi Junction on Saturday morning but on this occasion is was at a standstill, horns blaring, fist waving and extra police were attempting to gain control. Extra trains had been put on to get public to the Junction.

"Something big is on," Dave said. "Must be nude dancing or big time Rugby League stars making an appearance to sing 'Australia Fair'.

Wal scratched and said, "Perhaps it's a cooking demo by celebrity cooks."

Carla said, "You fools, it's Sydney coming to see you guys in the flesh."

"What?" Dave said gaping.

The other two women agreed and said their popularity had taken off.

"You two can now wallow in sex," Rosie said. "All women give it generously to celebrities. Even we three are beginning to think about it."

"But unfortunately we know what you are really like," said Di, spoiling that promise. 

"Guys pull your caps low before someone recognizes you. If that happens we'll never make the mall."

One of the very tall mall managers said, "Hi guys I didn't realize from TV you guys were so short."

There were introduced to a female mall manager and she said she hadn't realized Dave and Wal were so tall.

Dave said to Wal, "You can find humor everywhere you look eh Shorty."

"Yeah you 7-foot funny man."

They were told a barbecue had been set up for them and asked what did they wish to cook. The two people boggled when Dave gave them his list of requirements.

The crowd was huge and shoppers were told not to rush to see the Dave and Wal Cooking for Guys Show because it would run for two hours.

They wore remote mikes and two camera operators were filming to show them on the big screen.

Two small boys approached them for autographs.

Wal signed 'Wal' with a flourish and Dave wrote 'X' twice in the books.

"I can't write," Dave lied. "Tell your moms to write my name under my cross."

"I write like shit too," said one of the six-year olds. That was picked up on Dave's remote microphone and the crowd roared almost hysterically.

Dave got behind the barbecue. "Hi I'm Dave and my lovely assistant with her pretty blonde hair is Wal."

Wal put the blonde wig on backwards and uncovered his eyes and waved, saying hi.

Dave called, "Are there any mechanics here."

Several guys and a couple of women called yes.

"Well here's something good for morning break, a sandwich pertinent to your trade.

'You slice the break roll like this and discard the thumb you accidentally sliced off," said Dave, throwing something into the trash bin and the crowd closest went "Ugh" when he held up the sliced bread roll with a dollop of tomato sauce on it and said, "Pretend the blood is tomato sauce and remember tough guys don't cry and tears make the bread wet."

He cut a big wedge out of a lettuce and said, "A slice of lettuce, and adding a pork chop said "A small bit of pork" and pouring half of bottle of dressing over that the crowd yelled "A wee bit of mayonnaise."

"Oh have you guys seen this on some other show?"

They laughed, really relating to Dave.

"Okay now this sandwich roll for an airline pilot."

"For a mechanic," roared the crowd.

"Yeah for a motor mechanic honey," said Wal, passing Dave a small wrench.

The crowd roared and roared even more when Dave put it into the sandwich and added some vinegar calling it rust inhibitor, added the top and said, "Here we have the ultimate sandwich for a mechanic. Is any mechanic prepared to pay me fifty bucks for this? The money will go towards payment of Westfield Shopping Centre's overdue tax bill."

There were no takers.

A boy about seven held up his hand.

"Yes Gavin?"

"My name is John."

"Sorry Johnno. How much will you pay?"

"I have 5c."

"Right give me that and I'll give you two dollars change. Tell your mum I wasn't any good at math at school either. How are you teeth?"

"A big crooked mum says with some fillings."

"Oh good. Don't bother taking the wrench out when you bite into the roll. Here you go Johnno and always do what your mom says. She won't want the toilet bowl cracked in the morning when you pass that wrench."

"Mom says I can take the two dollars but I'm not to take the sandwich."

"Oooh, you'll be operating a shop with the best turnover in this mall when you grow up. Look I'll remove the wrench for you to give to your dad and I'll toss the roll into the trash."

"What are you waiting for Johnno? I gave you the wrench."

"You took my 5 cents. I'm waiting for my change."

"Ah good boy. Give the kid five bucks Wal."

Wal bend down, pulled off a boot, fished out a five-dollar note and gave it to John.

The laughing crowed clapped and called for more.

"I'm exhausted?" Dave said, wiping his brow. "You women will know how exhausting it can be making a sandwich. That's why the house is left in such a mess isn't it. Wal will do the next demonstration."

"Right folk, I'm a serious cook. I don't play the fool like Dave does. Is there a doctor in the house, male."

Three guys held up their hands.

"I'll made an omelet suitable for a medical man. But first I want five bucks to get back the five bucks Dave screwed out of me for John's change. Cripes that amount of change really shows the extent of inflation even on 5 cents.

"Thanks doctor. Here is comes being passed overhead. Watch everyone in case someone attempts to pocket it. We know not everyone here is reputable and lives at Bondi Junction."

"Right lightly butter the pan guys," Wal said, ripping the wrapping off a pound of butter and tossing the butter into the trash. He wiped the pan with the wrapper until an elderly woman called, "Young man you are meant to lightly butter INSIDE the pan."

"Woopsie I have a bipolar brain."

"Right you crack open four eggs and pour contents into pan and toss shells into trash... I think that's the right way round," Wal said, cracking each egg on his head.

"Remove hair from pan," he said. "Add a spoonful of cream. Oh no spoon. Let's slosh in a dash. Woopsie. And now cuddie."

"You mean coddle," called the old woman. "But that applies to eggs in water. You must whisk the eggs unhurriedly and gently and try to let air into the mix. Don't you beat the mix when you do an omelet?"

"Thanks Cuddles. No beating is for energetic people. I cook like men do, lazily."

"Right that's coming along nicely. Whoa I forgot seasoning. Oh this one is for people who don't add salt to food. Now since this is for a doctor, we add a pig's ear, a piece of heart, two lots of liver and this purple stuff represents bruising. I now fold the other half of the omelet over like this, woopsie, and here we have an original omelet called the Doctor's Special that is also known as the Patient's Revenge. Would the doctor who paid the five bucks please come forward?"

"He's gone," cried someone at the back. "He was running."

"Yeah and looking very bilious," called another guy.

"Who wants this omelet?"

No one put up their hand.

"Oh well into the bin it goes," Wal said, throwing it backwards and Dave moved and ducked and it caught him right in the face.

"Yummy," he yelled and the crowd went wild.

* * *

Dave called in a cab for Sandy that evening to go on their first date. He wondered would she marry him.

A taller version of Sandy but less beautiful, answered the door knock.

"Hi I'm Jasmine. Everyone but my parents calls me Jazz. Sandy apologizes and says her fiancée called at the last minute and said he doesn't want her to go out with you. She is so sorry and is distressed. She is prepared to talk to you but mum thinks that's not a great idea."

"What do you suggest?"

"Take me out instead. I don't have a steady boyfriend so I don't require permission to date you."

"Okay. Grab your bag and tell Sandy I'm relaxed about it and still think she'd lovely. Tell your parents we will be at the Orion Restaurant and I'll have you home by 10:30."\

Jazz came out smiling and said, I told mum and dad you are taking me to the Orion Restaurant and not to expect me home before 1:30 because we'll be going clubbing. Sandy said she had been confident you wouldn't rant and said I'm lucky to be going out with you. She thinks I'm not very sophisticated."

"Is that you idea of humor?"

"No it's how it is. I'm not sure if I really have humor."

"Oh that's us off to a good start."

"Excuse me?"

"Um oh, we have Sandy's blessing."

Jazz was as tall as Dave, who was six feet and both had fair hair and blue eyes, making him think they looked like a team. But linking up with a woman who doubted she had humor, had he lost it? Well it was only for one night. She'd get pissed, he'd take her home and all over Rover.




Dave and Wal Show



Fair enough. All the others would be out tonight. The three girls were out with their boyfriends. Biddie's husband had gone to Canberra for the weekend to watch a footy match so Wal and Biddie had gone to a hotel. Wal never talked about her but Dave thought she'd be great in bed.

"What do you do for a crust Jazz?"

"I'm a lawyer."

Christ that was confirmation she'd have no humor. Lawyers were almost as bad as accountants who were not far above funeral directors, so the guys reckoned. Dave wasn't sure if he knew any accountants but he'd caught the drift with thinking about undertakers and humor.

"Do you know Rosie Meadows?"

"Yes we were together at law school although she was a year ahead of me, being one year older. How did you know her?"

The cab driver appeared to be waiting for the answer as well.

"She lives with me."

"With you? But she has been running with Lloyd for about five years."

"Wal and I share a house with three females and Rosie is one of them."

"Oh you mean shared living," Jazz laughed and the driver appeared to lose interest in the conversation.

The restaurant was full and they caused a bit of a stir when they entered.

"Oh god is my dress ripped?"

"Give me a look. No you're fine."

"What about my breasts?"

"Flip them out and I'll check."

She looked pained.

"No they're fine, there's only two of them."

She giggled and he thought, ah that's promising.

A woman beckoned them over to her table.

"Hi Dave, I just have to say I love the show. My husband Branson and I agree it's the best thing on TV at the moment early evenings."

"Thanks Elaine."

"Oh no it's Joyce, Joyce Munro."

Jazz smiled and said, "Good evening Judge Munro."

"Good evening dear. Does you mother know me?"

"I'm ex law school. You were a guest lecturer on family law during my final year."

"And you are dear?"

"Jasmine Jennings."

"That rings a bell. Jazz Jennings, Sandy's younger sister?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well have a great dinner you two."

Four other women were waiting for autographs and didn't appear to even look at Jazz. She was impressed, learning what it was like being with a celebrity.

"Good evening sir, miss," said the maitre d'. "This way please. You are being switched to Mr Monaghan's personal table. He is delighted to have you in the house. I have to be honest I had no idea who you were sir because I work at nights so don't get to watch TV. I can't work those recording things."

"Well the station may soon put out a DVD on the best of our shows."

"I would be most grateful if the did sir. Most grateful."

After they had been seated Jazz whispered, "God so this is what it's like being a celebrity."

"I wasn't aware I was."

"Dave you are pulling my tit."

He looked at her breasts and she colored and said, "That's an expression, not a hi-brow one I have to admit. Don't look now but at the next table are our State governor and spouse and the president of the New South Wales Bar Association and spouse.

"What's the president drinking? Been in the liquor trade he ought to know the best drop on the wine list."

He's a Queen's Counsel Dave and president of the body that governs lawyers. Omigod you knew that didn't you?"

"Yeah just pulling your tit."

She smiled sweetly.

"Good evening Dave, Miss. I'm Cyril Monaghan, owner of this establishment. Dave we laugh ourselves silly over the weekly antics of you and Wal. My son tapes the show and we watch it together over Sunday lunch even when we have guests and everyone thinks it's a real scream but I guess there will be many folk less than impressed because that's how people are. You two just have to look at the camera and our laughing gear is primed. Now allow me to offer complimentary wine. Champagne, a red or a white?"

"Jazz?"

"I'd prefer a red?"

"Me too. Mr Monaghan what about a Hunter Shiraz?"

"May I suggest the 2005 Brokenwood Graveyard Vineyard Shiraz?"

"Perfect, highly rated. Oh yes please."

The meal was perfect and they enjoyed chatting once people stopped calling at their table.

They left the restaurant and Dave said, "The truth is Jazz I don't feel like clubbing. What say I just take you home?"

"Are you off me already?"

"Jesus no, I really like you. It can't wait to... well you know."

"Do I?" she giggled. "What say we ride the harbor ferry out to Manly and back?"

"Okay."

They had a lovely time, settling into a corner and were not disturbed. They looked out at the harbor lights until Jazz said softly, "Some dates kiss me."

Dave accepted the invitation and kissed and she also got into it.

As they were parting at Jazz's home, Dave said, "What about a naughty night in a hotel this weekend?"

"I'd love that."

"Good I'll hire a car."

"There is no need for that. I have a car."

* * *

Features on the emerging in-your-face TV celebrities Dave and Wal appeared in two major Sunday newspapers and a TV weekly magazine and the next show on Tuesday drew an estimated 493,668 viewers.

It had been filmed (with permission) at in Sydney's Central Railway Station, the largest railway station in Australia.

"Thanks for stopping to look and listen to us," began Dave. "I understand where we are is the Grand Concourse. So if you are waiting to change trains, is the diminutive for this place the Grand Intercourse?"

That produced polite laughter from the gathering crowd. Their director appeared worried but Dave had a confident smile.

He introduced himself as Dave Jellicoe, one of the presenters of the 'Dave and Wal's Cooking Show for Dudes' broadcast on Harbor TV at 7:00 on Tuesdays. 

"This is a big audience for something that's not supposed to be happening. The rail bosses gave us permission to film here on the understanding we were not to promote the event and God's Truth, we didn't. But you all know a dog can't even pee in the street in Sydney without a crowd gathering."

"We also had to promise not to make disparaging remarks about train travel in New South Wales. We won't. Unfortunately the guy who fronts with me Wal hasn't arrived. He planned to be here half an hour ago and I have to say he chose to travel by train."

There was a huge laugh and people clapped.

"I haven't been in this station for a bit. It was twenty-five years ago, not too long after I started school. We had shops where we lived and didn't go on holidays so trains didn't figure in our life but I now use them frequently because just like when I was a kid I still don't have a car. I'm too polite to be a successful driver in Sydney. Oh I've digressed and must be boring you. I need a volunteer." 

Several people held up their hand.

"Yes young lady. You have great... er shoulders. Let me pin this remote microphone on to one of your ... er..."

"Shoulders," yelled several people and Dave clipped it over her left breast.

"What's your name Miss or Mrs?"

"Miss Jasmine Jennings. You may call me Jazz."

"Cripes JJ you're not Sandy Jennings' sister are you? She was going to date me but her friends who saw me on TV told her I was uncouth."

"Yes Sandy is my sister."

"Well now, what kind of coincidence is that? She is beautiful, a former beauty queen. What happened to you?"

Several women booed.

"Take it easy ladies, I'm used to insensitive remarks," said Jazz, following scrip as rehearsed. "Women can be like that too."

The crowd loved it.

"Right let's get underway. JJ get your cute..."

He waited and people yelled "Ass."

"Yeah right, behind this table and help me prepare and cook this roast. It takes about the average time it takes a train to run from here to Parramatta, about four hours."

"Doesn't that trip take about thirty minutes?"

"Oh thanks JJ what did I say?"

"I won't repeat it. The rail chiefs will tear what's left of their hair if I do."

"Good girl. I like pretty girls with great...."

"Shoulders" roared the crowd that was building hugely.

"With great shoulders and a brain. Will you date me?"

"You'll have to ask mum and dad."

"Why?"

"Because you are uncouth."

"Oh okay. I thought it might be because they would think you were too sexy for me."

"Yes and that too."

Everyone laughed.

"Well folk we can't do a roast. A piece to be cut from a side of beef from a fresh kill that was being delivered to us here from the Blue Mountains was due an hour ago and hasn't arrived yet. They must have chosen to bring it by train. So we'll do something rather cute. I went to Sydney University you know?"

"You're kidding," said JJ.

"Yeah I went on Open Day. I met this cute girl student from New Zealand studying intergalactic travel. Apparently that subject is still not offered over there but I understand the one passenger train in New Zealand runs on time and as a result many people used to normal train travel miss boarding because they arrive late expecting the train to be late. Well she taught me how to make the favorite meal of impoverished students, as most students are. It's a brilliant variation of cheese on toast. It's called Mousetraps."

"Eeek, mice," said JJ, jumping on to a chair and pulling her dress high, revealing she was wearing bright yellow and red men's under-shorts with short legs.

The audience roared and clapped, some of them probably missing their train.

"First," said Dave, "you take a loaf of bread and remove the dead mouse."

"Eeek," screamed women, laughing.

"No just joking," Dave said. Pass me those two pieces of bread already lightly toasted JJ."

"Thanks. Lovely..."

"Shoulders," the crowd finished off for him.

"Thanks," said JJ. I can't recall anyone complimenting me on my shoulders."

"I wonder why," smirked Dave.

"Okay JJ, put a smear of butter on both sides of each piece of toast."

"Both sides?"

"Yes and do not display signs of insubordination thank you. Butter on the underside cooks the bottom to a golden crisp brown."

"Now spread a yeast extract lightly on the top side. I usually use Vegemite but today we are using Marmite because it's on special. While you are doing that I'll whisk this one egg, dump in chopped bacon, with salt and pepper to taste. Now I place my mix on the top side of your beautifully buttered toast, place very thin slices of onion over that, spread tomato sauce over the top, add garnish, in this case sprigs of wilted parsley and now we bake the savory bread on a hot tray in a 180C oven for ten to 15 minutes until the toast looks crisp and the cheese in the mix is runny. When the toast cools we cut the bread into triangles and lo, we have Mousetraps. Here are some earlier prepared Mousetraps, try them ladies."

A big woman said sternly. "No thank you. I've seen demonstrations of your theatrical cooking on TV."

"Ma'am, I promise you. This is genuine cooking. I have not used mice."

"I'll try one," said an elderly woman. 

There was pregnant silence as she bit into it. 

"Omigod this leaves cheese on toast for dead."

Other women grabbed a triangle and JJ handed out another plateful.

"Dave!" came a big shout.

"Hi Wal. Been riding on a train?"

"Yeah I took a call to go out to the Blue Mountains to pick up our piece of beef. The guy who was to deliver it was knocked over by the steer before it was dispatched. He's in hospital."

"Oooh," cried some women."

David said, "Ladies you don't know the guy."

"I'm a vegetarian," said one of the women. "We were concerned the steer had been slaughtered needlessly."

"What do you feed your dog on ma'am?"

"Usually gravy beef Dave. Oh I see what you are getting at. God you are both sly and uncouth and apparently the only thing you are good at cooking is Mousetraps."

"And Flytraps ma'am, not that you would be interested in those as you are a vegetarian. Someone help Wal, he's struggling."

Wal came into camera shot with two men, also in white coats and white hats, shouldering a whole side of beef wrapped in a cotton shroud.

People were laughing and Wal reported, "When I arrived out in the mountains, the butchers were on morning tea break. So I just picked a great looking half-carcass from the hook and ran with it."

Laughing Dave said, "Right folk, we'll now take a urination break. When we come back Wal will teach guys about the ultimate meat pie.

The show resumed with the camera on Dave who was smooching JJ.

"Ooops sorry but I really wasn't caught out. Miss Jennings was examining my mouth to see if I could sue my dentist for shoddy dental work. She's a lawyer."

"Stop hogging the limelight matey," said Wal. "Hi folk, I'm the other half of the cooking duo, Wal Slater, the very unfunny one and my job is to get this cooking show back on track to use railway jargon."

"Guys you all like pasty tubs that have a smear of slightly thick gravy at the bottom and they are colloquially known, and no one knows why, as meat pies. Like all young guys, you like to arrive home from work, spray their armpits, grab a meal and head for the pub or the shelia's place. Well here's the fifteen-minute pie gourmet meal to put you into complete control of your busy evening life and to give you the nourishment you require to drink everyone in your party under the table or to bang away all night on other activity."

"That last bit was unnecessary and crude," shouted a woman.

Dave smirked and said complain to the scriptwriter. He continued on with the meal preparation.

"You fetch home two or more pies, remove the lids while trying not to look inside, cut some meat off mom's Saturday roast like this," he said, cutting an 8-inch cube of meat off the side of beef. 

"Trim it like this so the bottom of it fits in the pie base, slap the lid on top of the meat like this and Bob's your uncle. Place it in a pre-heated hot oven for 14 minutes and then eat while you rush off to the pub or the girlfriend. Oh you don't have to eat without a napkin and a half a cup of tomato sauce per pie is recommended. And there you have it."

"But a piece of raw meat that thick wouldn't be cooked through," a woman called indignantly.

"Ma'am if you remember back in the days you were being courted wouldn't you had enjoyed a guy rushing towards you, nostrils flaring and scoffing near-raw meat?"

"Oh yes I would have loved it. By my Herbert was always late because he had to wait until his mum cooked his meal and then made him sit at the table for ten minutes after finishing to assist proper digestion."

"Bad decision. Meat like that probably takes two days to digest ma'am so what is ten minutes?"

"Oh yes. And now I'm thinking of all the..."

Some people called "Sex."

The woman looked flustered until a gentleman called "Courting."

"All the courting I missed."

"Look at it this way ma'am. You and Herbert can make up for that lost courting by not stopping you-know-what until you are satisfied your sex life is complete."

"Oh I hadn't thought of that. You guys really give good tips when fooling around trying to cook."

"Thank you ma'am. Well that completes our show. Remember CityRail is the way to travel. Dave and I have never used the underground City Circle service because we both are afraid of heights. Thank you."

* * *

Jazz (JJ and also known as Jasmine) invited Dave home to watch the show with her parents and sister and some of their extended family. He set off aware Wal would be staying home sulking because the adulterous executive producer Biddie had dumped him for a younger guy. That would hit Wal hard because he was sensitive.

Jazz met Dave at the door and pulled down the top of her strapless dress. He kissed her between the shoulders.

"Dave," she cooed, taking him by the arm and leading him in. "You could be a little shocked by me. I tend to be a bad, bad girl."

Dave's spirits soared and he squeezed her arm against his body to indicate he approved of her confession.

The parents were a good-looking couple as Dave expecting, having a couple of great-looking daughters like that. They also had a son aged seven and Dave wasn't sure what that indicated but he quickly found Barry was a great little kid. He also met and was closely inspected by Sandy's fiancé (she was looking great, especially between the shoulders Dave noted), Aunt Flo and Uncle Royce, Aunt Meg and Uncle Ross and their teenagers Basil, Charlie and Lily, and also grandma and cousin Robyn and her husband.

All of the adults smiled but they were straight-backed, indicating he wouldn't be sharing a viewing like being with mates and their girlfriends in a pub. God they could be Baptist or Brethren. Catholic would be okay and but he could be in trouble if some were Presbyterian. 

He worried unnecessary. All the adults cracked up during the show (obviously only Jazz and sister Sandy had seen it before), screaming with laughter at some of the more suggestive bits and even smiling away when he was filmed at the start of the second part after the urination break kissing Jazz and with a hand mashing a breast.

Mother and aunts rushed to kiss Jazz when it ended and he caught the kissing backwash when they'd finished with their daughter/niece.

"You were wonderful Jazz, a really excellent show," Sandy said sweetly, sitting with a six-inch gap between herself and fiancée, making Dave wonder was she gay or at least a slanted bi?

Later when waiting outside with Jazz for his cab to arrive, he was offered a bared shoulder and attacked and took the opportunity to probe very much deeper to indicate she was hooking up with a bad, bad boy.

The cab arrived and panting, Jazz pleaded him not to go, that she would sneak him into her bedroom and that her parents wouldn't protest if they heard the bed-head banging against the wall.

But Dave the gentleman said no.

They kissed deeply and as the vehicle moved off the cabbie drawled, "I'm surprised you're riding with me. Man what a great opportunity you turned down."

"I'm gay."

There was no more conversation during the journey and the cabbie snatched the fare without saying thanks.

Dave and Jazz spoke on the phone twice a day for the next couple days and on Friday evening when they were out dining Dave told her to meet her in The Concourse near were they filmed and to leave her car at home.

"Oooh, where are we going for the night?"

"Melbourne. We'll go to the airport by train to acknowledge my support for rail. NSW Rail is paying big bucks for Wal and Me to do an advertising campaign to stimulate rail travel. We'll be talking to a psychologist about the rigors of train travel and how to deal with the trauma of missing your train."

"Oooh how exciting and going to Melbourne is exciting too. Can't we stay two nights?"

"No I have to be back to work with Wal on Sunday around 4:00 to polish the script for Monday's shoot as camera crews were at a stopwork union meeting all day today held at the Bridgeway Hotel."

"Yes of course my busy man. Oh this will be just like a honeymoon."

Eh?

Wal called him when he was in the station waiting for Jazz. 

"I don't know what to do mate, this is like knifing Biddie in the back. Her daughter knew I was playing around with her mother because she'd had lunch out with us on a couple of weekends."

"Well how is that a problem?"

"The daughter has just called me and wants me to date her."

"Oh well Biddie only has herself to blame for dumping you. How old is the daughter?"

"Eighteen and three months. I asked her."

"Jesus mate this could be the end of us on TV if you decide to go ahead."

"So you are telling me not to proceed."

"No not really but it's scary because I enjoy what we are doing and money is beginning to run out of my ears. But what you are being asked to do is not illegal. Do want you want."

"I won't date her if you say no."

"Do want you want to do mate; it's your life. I'm not your mother."

"Are you saying I ought to ask my mum?"

"Jesus mate don't do that. She'll only say no or was that you just attempting to be a comedian? I'll tell you what. I'll give Biddie a call. That's what this call is about isn't it?"




Dave and Wal Show



"Yes mate. I was trying to build up courage to ask."

They laughed.

Biddie said, "Oh hi Dave. You've never called me before. I'm not going back to Wal."

"Good, I believe that's a mature decision."

"What?"

"Yeah I didn't want Wal to be caught in breaking up your marriage."

"Oh I see. I thought you were calling to be sympathetic to me?"

"No you and I never have been particularly friendly."

"Well you are rather uncouth."

Dave said through his teeth, "Do you have a daughter aged eighteen?"

"Yes my youngest Morgan. Why?"

"Apparently she knows about you and Wal breaking up. She wants Wal to date her."

Dave paused and heard a big draw-in of breath and then what appeared to be the sound of grinding teeth.

"I suppose that's okay. She's a little bitch and is going to turn out exactly like me."

"A lovely but over-sexed woman."

"God Dave, you can be really lovely when you try. Thanks for sounding me out. Tell Wal I'm confident he'll treat Morgan kindly."

"You're tough, a great decision-maker and yet you remain very feminine Biddie. I like it."

"Goodnight Dave. I could come to like you."

* * *

Jazz held Dave tightly during most of the flight and clearly was in a mind to join the Mile High Club but Dave proved to be the sensible one. Being Saturday and with people heading south to watch big sporting fixtures live or perhaps being tourists or couples embarking on a dirty weekend, the fight was full and of course people around them were not sleeping.

They stayed in a big corner room in the Crown Plaza with the Yarra River and a big slice of the commercial heart of the city in view including Melbourne's main railway station on their left.

"Oh you lovely, lovely man. You are so amazing bringing me here," Jazz said, holding up her arms to be undressed.

She lay on the bed, legs apart and wearing only black fine denier black stay-up stockings and watched what Dave was holding in his hand, her eyes widening.

Dave leaped at her. She yelled in excitement and he had his tongue into her with incredible speed and with both hands under her butt lifted her to the right level so he could gaze at her while working his tongue

Jazz's excitement built and she stretched up a nipple, pulling some of the breast mass up as well.

She noticed that appeared to make Dave's blue eyes glaze.

Watching him carefully she lifted her head acutely and took that breast into her mouth.

Dave rammed a dry finger into her butt. Fortunately the anus had captured some of the moisture running from her pussy. She screamed and came over his mouth. He moved with the convulsions of her groin and didn't miss a beat.

"She moaned and said, "Put that big cock into me and ram me. But she was ignored. He remained where he was, licking and sucking and waggling his tongue. She sighed happily, thinking it would be sometime before they could go walking like lovers while he waited for her to dive into the next shop that appealed to her.

Dave pulled his mouth away to say, "You're a really hot bitch."

"You watch you mouth with me buster and leave my butt alone."

Dave pushed his tongue in even deeper and Jazz jumped when she felt another finger pushing to get up her butt. She smiled contentedly as if knowing this guy had all the right moves and liked being in charge.

* * *

A year later, only a fortnight after the marriage between Biddie's daughter Morgan and TV celebrity Wal Slater, intense negotiations began involving executives of two TV channels that led to Sydney's biggest TV channel, with an Australia-wide network, buying the rights to the 'Dave and Wal's Cooking Show for Dudes', with agreement in the contract that the name would be shortened to 'Dave and Wal' but retaining the cooking send-up theme.

Dave and Wal of course went with the show to it's new home, and both were happy about that. Their new executive producer is a little guy of immense talent called Francis Weld and he lives with an acclaimed artist called Basil Shield.

Dave and Jazz live together and have a new daughter but they remain unmarried. Jazz has become a partner in her law firm and sometimes her unmarried sister Sandy sleeps with them.

The script for each show continues to be written by Dave and Wal because Dave's imagination appears limitless and their new director of programming acknowledges he has no scriptwriters at his disposal who could write so uncouthly as Dave who has yet to have an official complaint against the show upheld by the authorities.

The new producers of the show announced it would screen on Thursday evenings but within 24-hours there was such huge protest throughout Sydney that the show was rescheduled back to 7:00 on Tuesday evenings. The channel executives conceded although paying huge money to obtain the Dave and Wal show they hadn't realized it had grown into such a solid institution. 

Thousands of complainants stated they never left the house or welcomed visitors on Tuesday nights at 7:00 and would only answer the phone during the two 'urination' breaks. Advertisers who took ads during those breaks on the Dave and Wal Show are now commonly known in the ad department as urination advertisers. It is virtually impossible for new advertisers to get an ad placement on that show.

Right now Dave and Wal are working on the script for the next show, the theme being cooking for babies. They are currently arguing with management and their legal advisers about having young mothers who work in brothels sitting in the front row of the studio audience feeding their babies. 

Females in the legal team also oppose filming the first skit about cooking shredded roast duck to feed it liquidized to mothers to improve nourishment to new-born babies and another skit where Dave an Wal convince the executive chef at Sydney's most exclusive restaurant to open a babies' bar where diluted alcohol will be offered in an array of differing colored feeding cups, the venison will be served to them only as gravy and a nappy exchange service will operate.

"Look guys," Dave said to the steely eyed lawyers and nervous studio executives, you guys are too close to reality. Comedy isn't reality. You need to understand the difference and I know you guys being lawyers will find that very difficult.

The chief executive called catering to order dinner to be served in the boardroom for thirteen and to standby for a supper order. He had the feeling they were heading for a very long and very unfunny evening.

THE END