Well, it had to be done, didn't it? And since this is both the first and last post, I have won. Thank you all.
Shan't. I call your bluff.
You call it what? You don't get naming rights for MY bluff, I'll have you know.
Well, you Ozzies change the names anyway: Swagman. Tuckerbag. Even Ayers Rock! I rest my case. (Not a suitcase, by the way.)
Sorry? Was that a feeble Pomgolian attempt to communicate in Strine? Oh, I get it! You've been listening to Rolf Harris again, haven't you? Cruel and unnatural punishment for the prize. Hand him back.
I'll have you know that Rolf Harris lives in England and he has his didgeridoo collection in a special room by the river Thames (they were nearly flooded a few years ago). The Prize is ecstatically excited about going to see them. He wouldn't leave me for anything. Let alone for the dire hardships of soup,sticks and snoring on the Other Side of the world.
Shame about the early demise of that flood. You've ruined that prize. It used to be normal and a real man - not a Rolf Harris groupie. Well, I guess you might have to keep it. I'll just take the munny.
Sorry, but the munny goes with the Prizey. And that's with me.
He phoned me begging me to take him home. He hates it there - all cold and stuffy, he said. And he says you talk with a very proper accent, and he doesn't feel he can relax. Please! Think of the children!
It's no problem. Anyway, the Prize doesn't have children. Apparently Mrs Prize ran off with a lucky-draw vendor only shortly after they were married. Life is such a lottery... An wotcher mean that I tork proper?
tsk - I hate it when the upper classes try to slum it! You sound remarkably like grandfather, though. Not his lovechild, by any chance?
I was always loved by my grandfather. He knew a genius when he saw one.
But he loved you. Well, it's as well he had no standards, then.
Oh yes he did. Gold standard. That's why he loved me - he knew top quality when he saw it.
Blind, was he? How tragic!
No. He was very perceptive.
Yes, but it don't count, do it? I mean, it's like yer Mum sayin' yer handsome. Wishful thinkin'.
Or your Mum saying that your sense of judgement is accurate?
My Mum never said that. Just people who know me well. At least I am the winner.
Take him away, boys. The doc said it would happen. His room is ready.
Oh! [Gasp] Sorry - my sides ache with laughing. Dez said she is the winner. There's no need to come round boys, laughing is a perfectly sane and logical reaction.
Most people laugh at incongruities. You laugh at the truth. Take him away.
Erm, no. Take her away boys!
Wake up, Moff! Wake up! No, officer, I don't know what he took. But he's clearly hallucinating.