On site, Dane contributes as little as a limp-dicked cornerjacker at a bukake. Work 5 minutes with him and you'll realise he has a dual trade in talking shit and one-upping stories.
On smoko, Dane overhears a sparky talking about a root he copped on the weekend. Unable to leave this young buck's story unchallenged he sucks in his bourbon-belly and drops a bullshit-bomb,
“Yeh nah, nah, nah thats fuck all ay, I ‘member when I was fuckin’ working on the Mandurah line, there was this fuckin’ little oriental sluzza, anyway, after 2 fuckin’ hours I was giving her the old heave-ho on smoko. Up the bum too!”
Ah yes, the Mandurah line. You see, Dane was once the leading hand on the Mandurah rail project and like a footy dad berating his unco child, he can't seem to let go of his glory days.
After revolting the sparkies with his sexual untruths, he spots a young plumber shoveling like a British necrophiliac after Princess Di’s funeral. He stares at the hard working boy and lights up a smoke:
“Half way through installing me old lady's sisters below ground pool, me shovel broke, I said fuck it, and dug the rest with me bare hands, piece of piss mate ”.
The exhausted lad doesn’t know how to respond. He just stares blankly at the high-vis version of Santa Clause that merely drops nuggets of shit down the chimney of hard work.
Having inspired one member of the younger generation he finds his own apprentice, cocks his leg, rips a wet one and chucks a pineapple his way: “smoko cunt, fuckin’ grab us some Red Rooter would ya”.
While his slave is off fetching his chow, he takes the opportunity to big note his latest tool acquisition. A Milwaukee impact drill. Top of the fuckin’ line. He talks passionately about the 900-newton metre extension to his penis.
It’s now 2:30 and Dane has literally done no work. He decides to help his apprentice out with a stubborn nut. “You fuckin’ peanut ha ha, stand aside and pass me a wrench and the persuader would ya?” The apprentice stares blankly, “the hammer, mate, the fuckin’ gentle persuader, ha ha ha”.
Despite calling a hammer a persuader every single time, Dane still smugly grins like it was a mic dropping moment at the Apollo. The boy musters up a cackle in fear Dane might tell another vulgar joke about “poofters”.
Finally, tools down. Dane's excited, it’s 4 pack time. He storms into the bottle-o and eye-fucks a pack of Devil’s Cut like a Thai hooker looks at a fat-shit wearing crocs.
After smashing the tins he pulls into the Inglewood car park to start his monsoonal assault on the back bar, the forecast: blithering shit-showers with a chance of terry tough-cuntery.
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