Father O’Way – The Early Days 1


Wong O'Way
I’m the one not in the photo


Yes well hello. This is the beginning I suppose so I guess that you will all want to know what has happened. I was born, hmm, no, I mean yes, I was born but perhaps we don’t want to go there, well not just yet. Look, lets get down to facts. This is true fiction and no lies have been added to this story unless it has been necessary and it seems it has been necessary quite a lot.

My name is Sandy, well sort of, my real name is Alexander however I prefer Sandy. I mean lets face it, Sandy is better than Alex or Al or something. One reason I prefer Sandy is acronyms, yes acronyms. See my real name is Alexander Leonard Lyndhurst O’Way, ALLOW, dreadful isn’t it, so over time I have developed a love hate relationship with acronyms. Anyway as the story develops you will see what I mean.

So yes, I was born at the Inner Cyberia Hospital(ICH) and as little kids we couldn’t resist putting a “T” in there to make it ITCH as we all reckoned that if you ever went to hospital you always came home with an itch. Sorry, what was that, you have never heard of Inner Cyberia? Well it’s next to Middle Cyberia and on the other side of Outer Cyberia. Pretty simple really. Anyway I was born at the ITCH and unfortunately taken home by the wrong family. See I was born right on change of shift which immediately put me off side with the staff. Nurses hate having to do anything during hand over and guess what, that was me. Well my new family were Chinese and they named me Zing Zang however they gave me a nick name, Nick, phew, imagine trying to explain away Zing Zang when the local bullies are just about to bash you.

My dad, Walter, a very wealthy man, was a watch maker and he was very proud of his shop “Walter Wong’s Watches” (WWW) being displayed across the front in large letters. “One day all this will be yours Nick ” he would say. Well dad, my name is actually Zing Zang but hey, never call me a pedant as I don’t even know what that means. I think you have it on toast for breakfast, pedant butter and funny, yumbo.

My dad was always looking to get richer. He used to tinker with computers and one day at a large family gathering my Dad said “You know, one day computers will communicate with each other via the phone line, the information will be broken up into packets and reassembled at the other end.” “Preposterous!!” came the cries and the next day the men in white coats, other wise known as purse carrying nancy boys, came and took my dad away.

Soon after that the police arrived. My mum was feeling bad because she missed dad but more importantly she had just broken a fingernail, as you do, and the policeman said “Mavis” that’s my mum’s name, “Mavis you’ve brought home the wrong child from the hospital” “Yes, that’s right the Wong child, my Nick” replied mum in her broken English. “No the wrong, wrong child” emphasised the policeman “He’s a Wong” said mum, “No wrong, w.r.o.n.g. child meaning Nick isn’t yours” and so I was taken away to my new family, Farter and Mafarter O’Way.

My new family were poor but really good to me. They didn’t eat fish and rice like the Wong’s but lamb and potatoes instead. My dad was a Traffic Control Officer with the Main Roads dept., otherwise known as a lollipop man, good for a lick for a zac[2] to go to the shop, and my mum was a farmer’s daughter. But, my English teachers will cringe with me starting a sentence with but, but hey, who gives a fun, then they went and named me Alexander, hmm.

This was all very different and it took me a long time to adjust. The great thing was that my first mum and dad became good friends with my second mum and dad, so in the end I had two sets of parents. Farter and Walter would debate every issue under the sun while Mafarter and Mavis would trade recipes and take turns at cooking the main dinner, life was pretty good. And of course the real Zing Zang was nicknamed Billy, Billy Wong, hmm.[1]
One day the Wong’s came over, with sad faces, to tell us that they were moving to Outer Cyberia. Walter got a good job offer in charge of trying to put and egg back together that had fallen from a wall, so he took it.

Now let me tell you, you know how some things are a long way, well Outer Cyberia was a long way plus a bit, like another long way. See what I mean. Perhaps even further then a long way, maybe it might even been further then Coals(Thanks Dave) an, an, and you may not even eat cannibals, whats this world coming to, next there will something good on TV except Aunty and her little cousin

More to come so grit dem teeth and laugh so hard you hurt. Please avoid consuming liquids when reading this story. Your cat and keyboard may end up hating you.

Authors Notes

[1.] Think about it

[2.] I think a zac was sixpence and then became five cents, robbed again as usual. You can see that I am still bitter and twisted about 1966

[3] I have no idea about what this story is about but I’m having fun, hope you are.

[4] I dedicate this story to Helvi who gave me much support and encouragement to get Father O’Way into space and to the WDAPAW Crew who have all contributed ideas for the hapless Sandy

Father O’Way – Life is a Beach

Beach Huts At The Beach
Mr and Mrs Bishop at the beach however when this photo was taken they were busy in the shed.

Hi, handsome here, er, um, oops, nah, sorry folks just me Sandy. Anyhoo I’ve told the Bishop to go and get fu..

[Cut, cut, cut. Mike, the editor here. Look Hung, remember, we had a deal about the eff word and sunshine I did say a “fun” adventure please, everyone is dying to hear from Sandy and all you want to do is sit around all day, drink beer and eat pizza, for Gordon’s sake man, grow!]

Yes well then to go an, to go and, oh, to go and get fun. Yes, that’s right, I told the Bishop to go and get fun, as you do. We all like fun I suppose, I mean I do, I think, not really sure yet but I guess the past tense of fun would therefore have to be funned. Taking this to an extreme extrapolation, I could get home from a hard day in space and kiss the beautiful Belinda, deeply, passionately and, if lucky, x-ratedly and say,

“I missed you darling…

!!!!STRICT WARNING: There is certain dictionary found on Earth that contains a rather scary definition of the word “missed”. It’s definition number 7 actually, page 1114, see it, middle of the page. See what I mean!

The Church of St Generic Brand wishes to advise that any viewer that may be offended by words appearing on any computer chip device are advised to look away now.


You must keep this a secret from kiddies until they are at least 45 years of age.!!!!

This stunning fact could lead to many a divorce or prison term. I missed you darling may then come with some sinister undertones, hmm, I digress which by the way is the only thing I am good at, just ask me.

“Anyhoo” I continue “I slayed a few dragons, broke a ruthless despot in two with my bare hands, you know darling, the usual sort of stuff.”

Hmm, such subtle understatement of my lofty achievements that my modesty may prevent me from telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me Gordon. Well unless a convenient piece of confabulation comes to mind.

“That’s good dear” perfuncts Belinda. “Was it fun my little sweet cheeks?”

“Well, to be honest honey, I’m far, ah, afrh, ah, funned, that’s it, I’m funned sweetie.”

See, that’s how simple it can be. Well, I guess that’s me.

Now, I have to get the Bishop to have some fun. Do you know why? Because the Bishop thinks that if all of us patrons at the Arms, just stop for five minutes and read something really absurd and laugh, it will all do us the world of good. Pity the Bishop smokes too much of that green stinky stuff if his pipe but hey who gives a fun.

I’ll prove my case. Here are some cherry picked quotes that I have received over the years that show, beyond doubt, that anecdotal evidence is simply far superior to the scientific method. Earth flat right? Sure is.

“Mate, I was reading your story and laughed so hysterically hard that the lager I was consuming came out my nose and on to the keyboard, snot and all. Worse thing was it was a race between me and the cat to see who could lick up the most…” DCI Rouge, Inner Cyberia Pleece Force.

“Mate, I was reading the comment above and laughed so hysterically hard that the lager I was consuming came out my nose and on to the keyboard, snot and all. Worse thing was it was a race between me and the cat to see who could lick up the most…” DCI Rouge, er um Foodge, Inner Cyberian.

“Mate, I was reading the comment above and laughed so hysterically hard that the lager I was consuming came out my nose and on to the keyboard, snot and all. Worse thing was it was a race between me and the cat to see who could lick up the most…” DCI Rouge, er um Foodge, Inner Cyberian, um, D.G O’Hoo, Buggered if I Know.

See what I mean and that was only three.

[Cut, stop, no one move. Mike here again. Hung there were only three comments and all came from Foodge et.al. and lets face it, that mob just lack continuity.]

Crikey, never do anything too rash here, never say ” Get funned you piece of paper that belongs in a waste receptacle” Oh, Gordon no, never say that.

I guess we could send the Bish on an island holiday but knowing him he will fall over after one too many pipes and then whinge about the bill. To make matters worse, Gordon pays the bill anyway as all the money in the galaxy belongs to him, hmm.

Hey I have an idea. Teach kids a musical instrument. I do. Kids come to me and say,

“Hey Sandy, will I ever play the blues like you?” they inquire.

“Sure son” I say, the eternal optimist in me always persists “Just spend 20 years in your bedroom practicing, have a shit life, get divorced, bashed senseless and shot at. Then buy a high quality bottle of tequila and some pot and you’ll play the blues.”

Okay then, so Bish go and have some fun.

Authors Notes.

[1] This story does not reflect the views of the author. It is simply humour. And anyway I prefer Johnny Walker Blue label.

[2] Gordon is the creator of the universe. He is a scientist from another dimension and is studying the Milky Way for his PhD in Astrophysicists. Gordon, is Gordon O’Donnell and hence GOD.

[3] Belinda is Sandy’s wife.

[4] The Bishop heads the parish of St Generic Brand in the see of Inner Cyberia. It was established by Gordon to tolerate all religions for all people as long as you don’t proselytize.

Father O’Way – Is there Lice on Mars?

Evidence of Aliens playing at Cricket

Picture by Warrigal



Ring, ring, ring ring. Bloody hell these phones waking you at such an early hour of 11 am. Don’t you wish they would put a silence button on these things or what. You know it can only be one person, the Bishop, we all call him the Bish.

“Yes, hello Bish what on Earth do you want at this ungordly hour?”  I ask as it I know it will be something he wants me to do. I mean does this guy never stop, ringing at zarking 11 am. He must get up at daybreak, I’ve heard of people that do that, weird.

“Where’s Hung?” roars the Bish.

“Um, he can’t come to the phone right now as he is busy typing this story.” I reply.

“Arrrgh, well Sandy get to Mars, they have found ice on Mars”  declares the Bish. Wow,big deal.

“Did you say Lice? The itchy thingy”

“No, you ninny, ice, you know, that thing you put in your scotch”

Yes, I always wondered what they were. You know those little cube thingys. I’m sure some scientist has figured it out by now.

“We must be careful Sandy” said the Bish in hushed tones “You see we think this may be taken over as a demonstration by Tony Abblahblahalot.”

“But the itchy thingy is much easier to treat and it means I can stay in bed” I plead uselessly.


You guessed it, I’m on my way to Mars and the crew are a bit miffed let me tell you. To them, Mars is down the street and around the corner, can’t you walk.

The central computer starts blabbing on about a toxic atmosphere down on the surface and puts some pictures on the screen. Just as the Bish said, Tony Abblahblahalot and some supporters are down checking out the lice, oops, I mean ice.

I detach from the main craft in a small surface vessel. Apparently us humans get scared when other people materialise in front of them. You know like when you walk down the street and you see the best man from your wedding coming towards you, the best man that vomited all over the table and caused a fight in the foyer, so he crosses the street and pretends not to see you just like you have materialised and then dematerialised. See what I mean, is that scary or what.

The vessel pulls up next to the crowd all dressed in their space suits. You know there is no oxygen on Mars but let me tell you it doesn’t stop some from being windbags. They were carrying signs like “Cold for Life” with the word cold crossed out and replaced by Coal. I’m sure you get the metaphor or whatever it is.

The crew quickly set up a table and some chairs. They place bundles of paper on the table. I approach Tony Windbag, oops, I mean Tony Abblahblahalot who is laughing his head off,

“I waz just telling the blokes, no women here is there, nah, didn’t think so, that I’ve added salt to the water here on Mars as salt is good for you” says Tony.

“Why have you added salt?” I ask inquisitively.

“Well, I’ve stopped the boats, axed the tax and it’s all Labor’s fault, blah blah blah blah blah” replies Tony.

“No” I affirm “Why have you added salt to the water here on Mars?”

“Well, don’t you watch David Ratinburrow, ha ha, see right, he showed these goats right, he he, you know goats right, ha ha ha, that walk down a steep hill right, guffaw guffaw, once a week to eat salt. Love that bloke, believe every word he says.” says Tony with tears welling in his eyes.

“But David Ratinburrow is a staunch supporter of doing something about man made climate change yet you oppose it” I prod.

“David Ratinburrow is a dickhead mate and has no idea what he is talking about” declares Tony. Wow, any one heard the term blackflip.

I seize my moment “Attention every one” I broadcast ” Over at the desk my crew have some really cheap shares for you in a company called Yet Another Ponzi Scheme(YAPS[Had to fit one in somewhere]). YAPS will have totally collapsed by the time you pass but you will become filthy rich in a very short period of time and the poor will be left to pick up the bill.”

The crowd rush to the table and as each person signs the crew euthanises them, oops, puts them to sleep for their return to Earth but not before Tony beat them all to the desk to buy his fill. Oh, yes, some things never change.

I’m back on the ship and we are about to head for Earth and I have a seat in the Bats Droppings, our local pub on board, and oh the $64,000 question, is there ice on Mars? Of course there is. I’ll show you,

“Barman may I have a scotch on the rocks please?”

“Certainly Sir”

See  told you, now a priest wouldn’t lie would he? Would he!

This is Father Sandy O’Way, signing off from Mars for the Church of St. Generic Brand, Inner Cyberia.








The Tail of God 3

Pic by Warrigal
Pic by Warrigal


Just a recap, my name is Gordon O’Donnell. I am scientist from another dimension and me and a couple of class mates accidentally created the universe. Our teachers have sent us here to study for our degrees and I am heading for the planet Earth in the galaxy know as the Milky Way. My task so far is to create a monetary system, teach everyone in the galaxy to speak English but more importantly teach them cricket.

“C’mon Gordon” says Viv. Viv is my SNAP (Space Normalisation Adaptation Process) Coordinator, oh, in case you forgot, space an acronyms go hand in hand. Damn. “We are heading up to the bio so I can show you where you will be living till Earth is ready for you” Viv informs.

“What’s a bio Viv?” I ask as I glance around my beautiful cabin, a book list to die for, my own cook and a bar that never runs out.

“With long distance space travel you need to live in a biosphere otherwise you will go mad or in your case, madder” laughs Viv.

“Do you think I’m mad Viv?” I question.

“No, not so far anyway Gordon but you will eventually live in Inner Cyberia at the Rectory of the Church of St. Generic Brand with Bishop Bishop, Father O’Way and Belinda the housekeeper. Most of the time this lot are found drinking at the Window Dressers Arms Pig and Whistle affectionately know as The Pigs Arms. A stoic bunch of drinkers are always there and they are going to test you out. You need to know how to respond to fit in.” says Viv.

I find I cannot speak. Never in my wildest dreams could I have ever imagined such a scenario. We jump in an elevator and after a few minutes the lift door opens and we are in the main street of some sort of village. A mixture of housing surrounds and I can see a hotel, café and a few shops. People are moving around the streets.

“C’mon Gordon, I show you your house” instructs Viv and we walk a very short distance to a beautiful bungalow style house that over looks the beach.

“Wow this is fantastic” I mutter out loud, more really thinking about my surroundings than making any intelligent comment.

“Fair dinkum Gordon, anyone that doesn’t like this is a few kangaroos short in the top paddock” says Viv. Viv reads my face in an instance. “Fair dinkum means is that right and a few kangaroos short in the top paddock means that if you didn’t like this then you must be a mad” Viv informs with that irrepressible smile.

“This bio is the beach side village with fishing harbour, point break for surf and foothills at the rear and cricket oval in the centre of town. There are about 50 droids here who will create the atmosphere so it seems as if you are having a normal existence plus a four team cricket comp. The central computer has set the weather to replicate your birth planet and is fairly similar to Earth, you know day night, summer winter.” Viv states as this is all fairly ordinary.

Me, I’m overwhelmed. This amazing house with wrap round verandas that take in all possible views. A village, here in space, fair dinkum, hey its working, maybe I can settle into Earth after all.

“Come on Gordon, lets hit the pub for a couple of frothy’s, beers, before tea, dinner” says Viv, teaching as she goes along.

We enter the pub. A magnificent low lying building with a grand bar and a dining room to one side. Several droids are sitting at tables talking about the weather and some at the bar like they are propping the place up and watching sport on the screen.

We perch on a couple of stools at the bar and are approached by the barman. “Gerard, this is Gordon” says Viv. We shake hands, a custom I’m not quite used to yet.

“What will it be Gordy, we have Trotters Ale or Trotters Ale” informs Gerard.

“Make that two” says Viv. I’ve been drinking this Trotters Ale since coming on board and I must admit I really like it now although it did take some time. “So for tea Gordon it’s Bat Shit on toast or Kanck’s gizzard sandwiches?” smiles Viv.

My jaw drops and the bar erupts in laughter, hmm, Inner Cyberians, a tricky lot.

We enjoy a few more ales and I’m feeling quite relaxed but there is something that has been puzzling me. “ Viv” I explore, treading carefully, afraid to be thought of as mad “ Look in the last episode someone spoke to me about getting on with it, I thing the name was Hung”

“ Oh, Hung” reveals Viv, full of knowledge “ Hung’s the author of this story. Look see that screen over there, and how you can see a faint image of a person typing at the keyboard, well that’s Hung”

“ Author, story, you mean I’m not real but simply a fictitious character.” I blurt confused as to what’s going on.

“ Of course you are real Gordon. Everyone that reads this story knows you created the universe and this website has over 450,000 hits so mate you are very real” asserts Viv.

“ But he spoke to me” again my anxiety rising.

“ And yeah, you can speak to him any time but it must be inside closed brackets like this []. If you don’t like something or have a suggestion on the story just type you request inside closed brackets and Hung will talk to you” says Viv. “ Here I’ll show you”

[Hey Hung, great gag about the bat shit on toast]
[Thanks Viv. Gordon may need some sedation later till he understands]
[Yeah, he’s a bit wet behind the ears but I think we can work with him, I mean he likes beer for starters]
[Hung, Gordon here, am I real?]
[As real as anything else in this universe. Don’t worry, any concerns just talk to me. My closed brackets are always open to you.]

The Tail of God Part 2

Pic courtesy Warrigal - Gordon run out on the moon
Pic courtesy Warrigal – Gordon run out on the moon

Just a quick recap. I’m Gordon O’Donnell, an astrophysicist from another dimension and me and a few of my class mates have invented this universe. Our teacher has sent the three of us here to study it for our astrophysics degree. I’m on a ship called Rudolph, my navcom is a SANTA(Sub Atomic Neuroleptic Transparent Android) who prefers to be called Nick and he is taking me soon to meet Viv. Hmm, the story continues….

Well after a good sleep in my cabin in the control room I wake to a knock on the door.

“Come in” I say while trying to orientate myself.

It’s Nick and he’s holding an envelope. “Hungry Gordon?” Nick inquires.

“Yes Nick. I could eat the arse out of a low flying duck” I state thinking how ghastly that would actually be but it is an old Meupian saying.

“The auto cook machine is in the corner. Tell it what you want and it will be brought to your cabin” says Nick. Now that’s my kind of service.

“What’s in the envelope?” I ask

“It’s a LETTER from Professor Schnitzel about your mission” relates Nick “I suggest you have something to eat then have a good read and then I will take you to meet Viv.”

A letter, I muse how quaint. I tell the auto cook I want black coffee, tomato juice, scrambled eggs and toast. I stare at the letter, hmm, yes TD never actually said what I was supposed to do on this mission. A knock on the door and the auto cook droid enters with my tray.

“Thank you” I say not really knowing what to say.

“You are welcome your highness” replies the droid.

“It’s Gordon, please, no formalities” I request.

“Auto Cook reprogramming, yes Gordon”

Hate formalities, my parents gave me a name and that is what I want to be called.

The aroma of the coffee is amazing and the food delightful. Note to self, this droid can cook.

Refreshed I open the letter but to my surprise it is blank. “Nick” I cry “This is a blank page”.

Moments later Nick appears at the door. “Gordon, what wrong?” he gasps, shock and horror on his face.

“This letter, it’s blank” I bemoan.

Nick releases a hearty laugh “For a minute there I thought this was something serious. This is a LETTER Gordon” Nick states “An acronym for Line Embedded Telepathic Text EditoR”

Space and acronyms, I should have know.

“See that tag on the top left hand corner and the one on the bottom right hand corner. Place your thumb and finger on those tags and the letter comes alive” laughs Nick.

Easy when you know how. Nick walks off down the passageway and half way converts to wheel mode, spooky when they do that but it saves power.

I put my fingers on the page as Nick has said. Suddenly text starts appearing on the page just like magic. Wow, isn’t fiction complex some times.

“Hello Gordon TeeDee here. Hey do you like my new version of my initials? Makes me sound young and groovy.”

Why is TeeDee(Groan) writing in italics I wonder.

“It’s so the viewer at home know it’s me talking”

How did you know what I was thinking?

“This is a telepathic document. This means only you and I will ever know what has been said. The mission detail must never be known in your new universe otherwise it will cause immense trouble. The page is verifying both your fingerprints and your retina. This ensures that it is me and you that are talking. ”

Bloody hell, what have I got myself into.

“Let me tell you. You are currently on course for a galaxy the locals refer to as the Milky Way. Your base planet is called The Earth but before you can settle on Earth you must travel the galaxy and establish the following three things. Find the Goldilocks planets and teach them Meupian which in your universe will be referred to as English, create a monetary system so that you own all the money in the galaxy but most important teach them how to play cricket”

My head is spinning. This was nothing like I imagined. All this information is overpowering.

“Yes, I know but this is an important part of your studies, setting the groundwork. Now to help you I have provided a transponder, it’s on the desk”

I look over to the desk at this object which says Panasonic TV Remote Control. WTZ? ( What the zark?)

“Yes I know, we had to cut them into the deal otherwise they were going to complain to the government. When you find a suitable planet, locate the most advanced primate tribe. Active your force shield so you won’t be killed and eaten and state “Take me to your leader”. The shield will ensure the natives comply. Point the transponder into the eye of the head primate and press the play button, get that play. This gives the head primate all the knowledge needed to achieve your goal. Anyway, off you go as we are approaching the word limit and we haven’t introduced Viv yet. Stay in touch”

Another knock at the door. I put the letter down and all of the text just vanishes, amazing, this is complex fiction for sure. It’s Nick “Gordon this is Viv” states Nick.

Wow, cowabunger, yea har, dribble, dribble, this is a female droid with the best set of, um, er, you know, um, wow, I’m blushing, my face is red and all of a sudden I’m feeling really hot and flushed, I can’t take my eyes off them. [Hung here, right oh Gordon, get on with it, this part is about to end]

“Nice to meet you Viv” I bumble “Now let me guess, Viv stands for Vital Ingredient Vitamised or Virtual Item Verified?” I state in an attempt to recover.

“No actually” says Viv “It’s short for Vivienne. I have been modelled on an Earth female and I am your SNAP Coordinator” replies Viv.

“Snap?” I ask somewhat deflated.

“Yes, Space Normalisation Adaptation Process. I’m here to show you the ship, take you to the bio and teach you how to cope on Earth”

You know, sometimes true stories are really hard to tell and this is a true story, well sort of.


The Tail of God – Part 1

My Kind of Santa
My Kind of Santa

Hum diddy hum, diddy hum hum hum. Hmm, I hate waiting don’t you. Now I have been called to a special meeting and I just can’t wait, yee esse. Aren’t you excited? I am. Hmm, sorry, I haven’t introduced myself, I’m Gordon O’Donnell and I am the second youngest student ever accepted into Astrophysics at the spring chicken age of 512. Yes that’s right only five hundred and twelve years old and I’m going to become an astrophysicist, amazing.

Anyway I’m waiting for the lift to take me to the office of Professor T.D. Schnitzel who along with his partners Professor C. Chips and Professor G. Salad want to interview me after a couple of fellow students, Gees Ass and Holly Ghost and I created a new universe in a shoe box. The box resides in a cupboard at the back of lab, Astrophysics 101. The Professors want to talk to me about this universe and how to study it.

“Welcome Gordon” says T.D. “I’m Ten Dollar Schnitzel and my compatriots are Chunky Chips and Garden Salad”.

Wow, fancy being on first name basis with these legends. And what a combo they make, ten dollar schnitzel with chips and salad, every boys dream.

“So Gordon” T.D. leads off “A very interesting thing you have created with your fellow students and we have decided that we want the three of you to study your experiment for your astrophysics course. How do you feel about that?”

“Fantastic” I reply not knowing how to really feel until we get to the crux of the matter.

“Well, we have invented a machine so you can explore this new universe at your will. It’s called a Schnitzeliser. You go in one end as a Meupian and you come out the other end as a being that is proportionally acceptable to your project at the other” smiles T.D.

Oh, sorry. For those of you that don’t know, I’m from a planet called Meup. It revolves around a Sun we call Star T. Meupians live forever except for accidents. When an accident happens Meupins can then reproduce a new being. That way our planet is never over populated and degraded unlike some planets.

“So T.D.” I lead off “Let me get this straight. I start at this end as a normal Meupian male and end up in the shoe box the size of a sub atomic particle inside a space ship that will take me through this dangerous and unexplored universe where any thing could go wrong at any time”

“Yes” replies T.D. is his own unique way reflecting that I’m the one in danger while he gets the bus home at five each night, hmm.santa

“And if I don’t I will never pass astrophysics and live a miserable lonely life until one day I meet with an accident and die”

“Yes” replies T.D.

“Okay, where do I sign” I groan.

Wow, I’ve just been schnitzelised and here am I in a brand new space ship. You can tell it is brand new it has that smell. Yes, two arms, two legs, hmm, yes two something else. It’s funny when you have been schnitzelised, you feel as though someone has just punched all these little holes in you and you feel very tender, hmm.

Anyway I’m in some sort of bedroom, very swish and grandiose. It has a bathroom, shower and utilities area, very nice. One wall of the room is a book case absolutely full of all kinds of books, hmm, this could be one heck of a journey, only problem is I don’t know where I am going.

There is a knock at the door. I open it to find a droid standing in the passageway. Oh, let me explain a couple of things you will need to know about space travel. Droids or should I say, androids are sophisticated robots that can travel anywhere any time, need no food or oxygen and recharge themselves usually overnight or as necessary. They, for all intent and purposes, are your crew and it doesn’t take long before you forget they are machines and you very quickly see them as your travelling companions. The other thing about space travel is virtually everything that has a name is an acronym. You need to be alert as this will always hit you when you least expect it.

“Hello” I say to the droid “My names Gordon O’Donnell, please call me Gordy or Gord” I tick off trying to get on the front foot.

“Yes hello Gordon, T.D. has told me all about you” replies the droid. Now this droid is a rather large person with a big white beard and long white hair. He is wearing a red jacket with white cuffs and a white strip around the bottom of the jacket. His pants are red with white cuffs at the bottom. He has on large black boots, a black belt with a huge buckle and a red hat with a white pom pom. “My name is SANTA” says the droid “ I’m your navcom.”

“Please to meet you Santa” I hesitate.

“Yes Gordon, I’m an acronym. SANTA stands for Sub Atomic Neuroleptic Transparent Android but hey just call me Nick” he offers.

“Come down to the control room and I’ll show you around then I will introduce you to Viv” informs Nick.

We enter the control room and wow, this ship is state of the art. I peer out through the window where I can see out over the nose of the ship. There is a distinct red glow coming from the tip of the nose.

“What is that red glow Nick?” I ask in bewilderment.

“As we are travelling so fast Gordy the very tip of the nose of the ship excites any gas in space and that generates heat” explains Nick.

“And who built this ship Nick, it is of high quality?” I ponder.

“The Reindeer Company on Meup” replies Nick.

“And does the ship have a name?” I enquire.

“Yes. It does have a model number but basically it’s name is Rudolph”

Well you go figure. Here I am flying through space with Santa and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, unbelievable but true, well sort of.santa1

Father O’Way Meets O’Bad – Part 2

Picture by Warrigal
Picture by Warrigal


Geeps with all the excitement going on someone asked where exactly is Missen?

Missen is a planet found in the galaxy that we call Andromeda. As part of my space adventure, I played in the one day cricket final on Flong at the Foval with Big M. This was important to Gordon as he needed to prove that there was a relationship between one day cricket scores and the average number of beans in a 440 gram can of Baked Beans in Tomato Sauce. Hey, you think space and the universe is complicated, well think again.

Big M has become part of my team on the Unnameable II space ship which is currently hiding on the dark side of the moon so not to upset NASA.

After getting the call from God, Big M went back to Missen to pick up Shoe so they could help me with my deep and revealing interview with Eddie O’Bad. However I have just learnt that Eddie has an old mate with him, Arthursin O’Dinos. Now I’m starting to worry, Gordon O’Donnell, Sandy O’Way, Barty O’Farty, Eddie O’Bad and Authursin O’Dinos, hmm. Any one else see a trend developing.?

I ring the Bish. “Hey Bish” I lead “A bit of a problem with names beginning with O”

“Don’t know what you mean Sandy anyway that call girl said she was 16” barks the Bish.

Hmm. Anyway we get to the gates of the O’Bad Ponderosa. A couple of guards approach the car.

“Hey, Sandy here, from the church of St Generic Brand, want to interview the Big O” I say but really not knowing what really to say.

“Well Father, you better turn around and keep going cause Eddie don’t wanna talk to you” says the guard, smiling and laughing to his offsider.

“Well heck guys, but I have the Duckhunt champion from Missen sitting right here that can take you apart within a few seconds” I reply not knowing really what I am saying. Hey, where’s the rum.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, Big M and Shoe were out of the car and after a few shots and screams had the guards under control.

“Big M, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Easy Sandy” he replies “This is a taping technique I learnt in NICU, tape their hands with the gun pointed to their abdomen, one false move, they pull the trigger, he he he he, etc” laughs Big M.

Gut wrenching laughter from Shoe “Me like” grins Shoe.

Geez, do you really know what you’ve been missing?

“Hey Sandy, how bout this” says Big M as the car accelerates and spins in a circle.

“Sandy, we is doing a donut” cries Big M

“Lets shoot some guards” says Shoe.

Bish, what have you done to me.

We travel into the O’Bad Ponderosa and arrive at the main door.

“Eddie, mate” I yell “Just wanna talk, okay”

Meanwhile Big M takes out seven guards and Shoe shoots out six windows on the second floor.

“Wadda ya want to talk about?” screams Eddie. Eddie’s eyes flash from side to side.

“Did ya do it?” I ask. May as well get to the point.

“Do what?” Eddie replies.

“It?” I reaffirm.

“Nah” says Edie

“What about you Artuursin?”

“I don’t remember”

“Did you go to McDonalds” I press.

“Yes” says Eddie, “I like a pickle with a meat patty”

This is unfortunately a true story, well sort of…

First published at the pigsarms.com.au

Father O’Way meets Eddie O’Bad Part I

Picture by Warrigal
Picture by Warrigal


Hi, Sandy here. What? You don’t know me, well if you haven’t been listening for the last five years my name is Father Alexander O’Way, affectionately know as Sandy and I am the parish priest of the church of St Generic Brand which just happens to be down the road and around the corner from the Pigs Arms. Hmm.026 - Father O'Way

Well as anyone who knows me knows I hate early mornings and yet again that relic from the last century Bishop Bishop, who we all know as the Bish, rang me at one in the afternoon, what a bogan.

“Listen Sandy” bleats the Bish “I’ve just had a phone call from God”

Now to all you newcomers, God is Gordon O’Donnell, an astrophysicist from another dimension that created our universe as a science experiment in a shoe box. This shoe box sits at the back of the lab in Astrophysics 101 and is used for the students to study astrophysics. Hmm, I can see this is not going well. Yes, there is no God, Yahweh or Mohammad, it’s all mythological rubbish. It is us and them out “there”.

“Gordon wants us to wade into the O’Bad dilemma, lets find out if he really did it” demands the Bish.

“But Bish” I foolishly reply back “Who gives a zark if O’Bad is dodgy or what. Take him out someone else will replace him. I mean corrupt power is absolute but absolutely power corrupts something” Gees I wish I could remember that statement but it sounded good.

Okay. I can see some of you are stumbling with the word “zark”. As kiddies may be watching zark is a universal swear word. Just substitute “zar” for “fuc” and you will get the picture.

The Bish
The Bish

“Just do it Sandy or Gordon will cancel your credit card” barks the Bish.

Holy mackerel. No credit card. See when Gordon invented the universe he also invented money. So all of the money in our universe belongs to Gordon. Anywhere I travel in the universe is paid for by Gordon’s card, hmm, need to do something here.

“I have arranged a car to pick you up in the morning at 1000hrs so be ready. It’s a good two hour drive out to the O’Bad Ponderosa” What the zark, 10 in the morning, does this man hold no morals.

So ten the next morning a car pulls up out the front of the Rectory. Being so asleep, I didn’t really take any notice of the people in the front and I slumped into the back hoping I could get some shuteye. Somehow I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about the time when I first met Gordon, the delicious dinner made and served by the delicious Belinda who is now my wife. I remember thinking at the time,

Acronyms, God how I hate acronyms. Usually stupid and generally meaningless along with mnemonics they stick in your head to remind you just how stupid you really are. Remember as kids in the parish school the all time classic, ARITHMETIC, A Red Indian Thought He Might Eat Tobacco In Church. What twaddle. racist diatribe if ever there was one. I mean the only red Indians I knew were constantly having the shit shot out of them in country and western movies. Eat in church was a given no no and who in their right mind would want to eat tobacco for God sake. My dad used to smoke Cabin Cut, Ready Rolled, can I imagine dad hoeing into his tobacco after tea in the lounge, no way.

Oh, yes those were the days. But then the POTTY Awards, oh yes, I remember well.

Anyway the one acronym that makes me tingle with pleasure is POTTY. The Potty Awards, the Priest Of The Tropical Year Awards and yes, I’m in the pipeline to win this year. See I’ve been invited to the Rectory to have dinner with the Bish and an important guest this Wednesday. Not next Wednesday or last Wednesday but the Wednesday before the Saturday night of the awards. Obviously the Bish wants to disclose that I’m this year’s winner so I have my acceptance speech ready to rock. Oh yes, all 32 pages, ready to roll thanks to the kind Voice who helped me pen an appropriate dialogue.

Then heart break.

Dinner finishes and the Bish goes off into another room to smoke that stinky stuff and Gordon ushers me into the study for a French Brandy that’s about 200 years old he just happened to find in his cellar and a cigar. How civilised. “Now Sandy, I’m sure you have some questions for me but first how do you feel about space travel?” Gordon asks. “Space travel? What about the Potty Awards?” I inquire lubricated by the fine wine. Gordon smiles “Don’t worry about them, that prick Basil Sauce will win this year. There are bigger plans afoot for you….

Yes, Pastor Basil Sauce, that prick from one of the many mobs in town robbing my customers.


Male Nurses United

“ Driver, how long to go?” I inquire rather innocently wondering if anyone had a rum toddy to tide me over.

“ Not long now Father Sandy” said the driver.

Hang on, I know that voice. “ Big M” I cry, “ What in Gordon’s name are you doing here?”

“ I’m on a mission from God” replies Big M

“ Cut the God crap mate, we know the universe has been created from another time dimension” I futilely reply.

“ From Gordon, you dope. Now meet Shoe.” Big M nods to the co-driver. “ She’s the Duckhunt champion from Missen and she’s riding shotgun”

“ Nice to meet you Sandy, heard a lot about you. And hey Big M was the slot car champion of his street back on our planet” grins Shoe.

So I am going to face a big time crim with a driver that had a slot car set and a shotgun expert that knows Duckhunt, boy am I in trouble.

First published at http://pigsarms.com.au/2014/04/27/father-oway-meets-obad-part-1/