‘Ho Bart! How’s it going dude, haven’t seen you for a long time. Since back in Springfield on the original ramble.’ We’d just arrived in Hobart, and I’d bumped into an old buddy of mine from the epic Greenygrey ramble. We’d met up with his parents back in the Simpson Desert, but Bart hadn’t been there.
Bart said he’d been doing fine down here in Hobart, and much better than when he visited Australia with his family and caused an international incident. He said his parents had told him we’d met back in the Northern Territory, and they’d enjoyed our reunion.
I was just introducing him to the others when he fired off a catapult at the Tasmanian Tigers team. They turned around and Bart said it wasn’t him, it was us, and they started to chase us all.
There were some wild horses on the peak, and Angry suggested we jump on and ride like the wind. So we rounded them up, and after I remembered my shape-shifting skills I changed into a horse and told them our situation.
They agreed to take us as far as Kempton, explaining it was a nice little town twenty-four miles north. So I changed back into a werewolf and we set off just as the Tassie Tigers team reached the peak.
As we descended through the snow, and left them trailing, Bart shouted ‘Eat My Shorts’ back to them.
They let out a roar before disappearing back into extinction.