Swinging Safari

1

Hey, check out the Wurlitzer!

How 'bout a bit of Australiana, eh?

This is the Drumtastic 9000.

Auto chords. Yeah, baby!

And now for my big finish -

fire up the Leslie and the subwoofer.

Hey, Gale! Did you hear any of that?

The whole thing's just dynamite!

Oh, I wonder what the poor

people are doing today.

Oh, no, you've gotta screw

deeper. You gotta screw deeper.

- She'll be right.

- Here. Hold this.

Oh, here we go

with the umbrella business!

He's parasol paranoid, I'm telling you.

Terrified of umbrellas.

What the hell happened in the 1970s?

A decade with too much time,

too much money

and way too much cask wine on its hands.

Stop.

Thanks to a birthday present

that would go on to make me

a dishonest living,

I captured everything

in the hope that one day

I could edit the madness together

and answer the question -

what was going through

our poor misguided heads?

My big home movies

starred a bunch of ratbags

who all lived on the same

block - Wyong Place.

Wedged in time somewhere

between Penny Lane and Wall Street,

meet three rudderless families

who lived, surfed

and spectacularly

crossed the line together.

A lot of people to meet

in the next few minutes,

but it's not a test.

Just enjoy the slideshow.

One, two, three.

Open your eyes.

Rack off!

The Hall house was

a disaster movie in the making.

Gerome Hall was

the coolest kid in school.

He was also my stuntman.

And cut!

If this water goes pink again,

I'm gonna cop it!

We're f***ing on it, alright?!

- Die! Die!

- No, don't! Stop!

Arggh!

Gerome's dad couldn't win

an egg and spoon race.

Keith Hall rapped his knuckles raw

trying to feed six hungry mouths

with nothing between him

and their next meal

but a mangy encyclopedia.

Are you dreaming of a better world?

I'm Keith Hall from

Funk & Wagnalls Encyclopedias.

Yours to take home

with only the common cents

jingling in your pocket.

With every overly abundant

currency vestibule,

you'll receive the next gold-embossed,

cliff-hanging tome

that will be delivered...

Gerome! I'm on a bloody call

with Mrs. Darlington of Dapto!

Kaye, my sweet?

Please set the table for luncheon.

With her husband going pink in the wash

and her kids' hair

going green in the pool,

Kaye Hall didn't leave the house much.

Agoraphobia, like skin cancer

and political correctness,

hadn't been invented yet.

Mum!

Kaye and Keith were

the sunburnt centrefolds

of Nobby's Beach.

Then... a light went out.

Keith turned to classy porn magazines

like Inspect-Her Gadget,

and Kaye turned to drink

with a deafening silence.

Action!

Keira Hall loved the water

and bluebottles loved her back.

That's 'cause her dad said

she was special.

Not quite the full quid, are ya?

But you are Daddy's favourite.

You will come good.

But they're black ones.

I don't like black ones.

Nobody likes the black ones, love.

Nah, that was terrible.

You're going down there...

OW!

Ow! Unfair, Liam Jones!

That really hurt!

Not as much as it's gonna!

Suck eggs, grogans!

If the Jones boys were gonna experiment,

they may as well do it at home.

So said their parents,

Rick and Jo Jones.

They said Rick Jones was

the most fun you could have

with your pants on.

Somebody's gonna get hurt

and it's not gonna be me!

The Joneses were

the big kahunas on the block -

the biggest house, the biggest car

and the biggest hair.

Rick sold drugs - groundbreaking drugs,

like tanning tablets and Valium.

Drugs that made their way

straight into the gob of his wife.

Jo owned a specialist travel agency.

Travel Exotica.

She didn't have to work. She chose to.

Tahiti looks nice.

Simon? Tahiti!

Jo knew the world was changing

and she didn't want to miss

the gravy boat.

Let 'em learn the hard way.

Naaaaahhh!

If you had to pick a superpower -

to fly or be invisible -

which would it be?

The first great love

of my life, Melissa Jones,

chose invisibility.

She was the lost girl

that only I could see.

Our fates were sealed

by secrets so terrible

nobody dared talk about it.

We were the first generation to

wear fully synthetic fabrics.

We were also... the last.

Sh*t!

Oh, my goodness! The kids!

That famous election night

left us both scarred for life.

Melly and I were the flammable children.

If Melly Jones picked invisibility,

I, Jeff Marsh, chose flight.

One, two, three.

Not too hot, not too cold.

My family was stuck

right in the middle of the cul-de-sac.

For cryin' out loud, Gerome!

You're soarin' poor bloody Sandy!

Mr. Marsh, you're gonna need

a bigger boat.

Nick off, will you?

My dad, Bob Marsh, loved

playing the organ - badly.

He worked for a successful

American gadget importer -

K-Tel.

Order now and you'll receive

a bonus set of steak knives

absolutely free!

Needless to say, there were

no surprises on Christmas Day.

Gee, you shouldn't have.

Trace-0-Matic Mark 2!

Uh-oh. Foot odour.

Oh, here she comes.

Welcome, Sleeping Beauty.

Oh, I wonder who this is for.

Oh, it's for me!

Thank you, darling.

Not on the carpet! It stains.

But wait - there's more!

Hey, Mum?

- I'm talking to the girls!

- Mum!

Clean your room! The cleaner's coming!

Let's go.

My dear mum, Gale, was outgoing.

She kept herself busy doing...

...well, actually, we don't

really know what she did,

but we did know that she loved

three things especially.

You cannot be serious!

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