Robbo Has A Blow Out

Robbo carefully sighted down the smooth line of his Weatherby, Mark V Sporter's barrel. This was a precision instrument and a thing of power and beauty. By golly he was going to get his target first go. He took deliberate aim. His muscles twitching at the steady effort. Then...he slowly...pulled...the trigger. BANG!

P-ting! The bullet ricocheted off the edge of the speed sign. His mate startled at the explosion spilling beer over himself and the dashboard of the ute in which they were sitting. He burst into raucous laughter. "Give over Robbo, you don't know nothing about shooting street signs. You've got to wait until you see the whites of their eyes." The friend fell into more uncontrollable laughter.

"I'd like to see you do better, Johnno. There ain't no flies on me, I can tell you mate," Robbo growled. Johnno was still gasping for breath when Robbo noticed Bluey's head bouncing just level with the open window. "I wonder what that crazy dingo is up to," said Robbo. Robbo and Johnno looked out the driver's side window.

"Hey!"..."You Fat"..."Dag," spoke Bluey as he leapt up and down on his hind legs so as to get enough height to look straight at Robbo in the ute. "Get out"..."Or I'll huff"..."And puff"..."And blow your head in." He then bolted around the back of the ute.

"Now, what's he doing?" asked Johnno. "I don't know," said Robbo, "Let's take a look." Robbo put his gun in the rack and both of them got out of the car. They followed Bluey's path to where they saw his legs behind the flatbed. Bluey then dashed under the ute to the cab and grabbed the gun.

"I'm going to eat you little piggy!" Bluey proudly announced, then shot a hole into one of the tires.

"Christ on a stick! What did you do that for? That's my new ute," Robbo called out in despair. Johnno had already taken off across the outback.

"I'm big and I'm bad and you look like good eating to me," said Bluey taking aim down the Weatherby at Robbo. This was just too much for Robbo. He bolted into the truck, closed the doors and tore off for his brother's place.

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Copyright May 1996 Katherine Phelps
<muse@glasswings.com.au>