The Nicksters: Cam
The Malt, Lord Ed and The Bored Drobe
It was late January, and Malte the Wise, Ranger of Colling Wood reclined in his mahogany sub-throne within the labyrinth that is Castle Lexus. In a beanbag next to the fridge lay, Neil, Knight of the Order of the Rotisserie, asleep after a long day waiting for medieval carrier pigeon faxes (no, he still hasn't figured out that pigeons only fly in late October / November).
A trumpet sounds a fanfare and in walks Lord Edmund, Duke Of Telly.
The herald begins "All Hail Lord Edmund, Duke Of Telly, Ruler of Rosedom, Potentate of Pieland, Fuehrer Of The Fishbowl!"
Malte The Wise: [drearily] "Hail..."
Knight Neil: "Zzzzzz"
Lord Ed: [with vigour] "Malte, what's with the droopy mo? How goes the preseason? How are the recruits?"
Malte: [shrugs] "Well... the mo needs viagra, the pre-season is fine and the recruits are fitting in nicely."
Lord Ed: [still with enthusiasm] "Well what is it? Infighting? A Code Carey? Another Curse? Nightmares involving Googly Bear and bionic legs?"
Knight Neil: "Huh! Wha! Zzzzzzzzz"
Malte: [bored] "Yeah, lock in C Eddie... Nah, it's just, I'm scared."
Lord Ed: [frustrated] "Scared, you don't look scared! You look as relaxed as a pair of Nicole Kidman's undies."
Malte: [starting to act interested] "Yeah. That's why I'm scared. That's why Christi is looking for news stories that don't involve us. That's why Beazely will be a Freo supporter who followed Footscray as a kid. That's why Choko hasn't mentioned Anzac Day or jumper clashes. That's why the Lions haven't slagged us in the media. We're boring and irrelevant."
Lord Ed: [frantic] "What? Boring? Irrelevant? Wait til the footy show starts, we'll get that Angwin guy to nick the '58 and '90 cups and have Daics find 'em. We'll be news again."
Malte: [fessing up] "Well, that's only half of it..."
Lord Ed: [narrows his brow] "Yes?"
Malte: [sheepishly, dragging his pointed toe in a semi circle on the floor ala Nureyev or a shy girl] "I've run out of, um, excuses."
Lord Ed: [machine gun like] "Bullshit."
Malte: [swallows] "I have."
Lord Ed: [bayonet thrust like] "Bullshit."
Malte: [spits] "I havvvvve. All gone."
Lord Ed: [fuehrer like] "All."
Malte: [quietly] "All."
Lord Ed: [Klink like] "GONE!"
Malte: [Schultz like] "Gone...."
Lord Ed: [shocked, but pissed] "But... what about dodgy Morrison?"
Malte: "Training well."
Lord Ed: "Skunk? His shoulder?"
Lord Ed: "Cam Cloke?"
Malte: "Driving like a Grandma."
Lord Ed: "Rocca?"
Malte: "Putting in, shouting, looks fair dinkum."
Lord Ed: "But it's January FFS..."
Malte: "I know."
Lord Ed: [searching, pauses] "Leon, surely Leon is still on holidays?"
Malte: "Nope. More running than a metro hippie zone by-election and less fat than Glenn McGrath's urine."
Lord Ed: "Oh..."
Knight Neil: "Shaw...zzzzzz"
Lord Ed & Malte "Huh?"
Knight Neil: "Shaw... Shaw.... Shaw Baby, gimme that.... Oh...Oh...Oh..Uh.. Ohhhhh what a steak sandwich... zzzzzz"
Lord Ed & Malte [raised eyebrows]
Lord Ed "Typical".
Malte: "So yeah, we're out. I mean Carlton just got Carey - they're as good as f#$#@#d."
Lord Ed [smiles] "Good one."
Malte: [on a roll] "St. Kilda have still got Gehrig and Cornflake's speeches - so they are still nothing but piss and wind."
Lord Ed [grins] "Stop it."
Malte: "And Port have lost more people than an Aceh Beach Resort."
Lord Ed [laughs] "Ok, ok, [laughs again] "Too far."
Malte: "So until we get some injuries or I start Jason Cloke at Full Forward in the practice games we will be out of the papers."
Lord Ed [resignedly] Oh well, maybe a month off might do us good [thinks] ("But I still have the AB Medal...")
Malte: "I guess we can still get people to bitch about the Lexus tavern and how it is devoid of everything."
Lord Ed: "Nah"
Malte: "Why not?"
Lord Ed: "Got it covered."
Lord Ed: "Beer."
his forehead] "Of course."
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