The Legend

-In the heart of the Diwan forest; unforgiving, dense and sweltering temperatures in the Australian jungle. The limited air and flaring insects suffocate, with the never-ending sounds of tree crickets. The murky waters are surrounded by evergreen, but the brownish coloration dominates nature’s view.

-A cutaway to a large python snake slithering down a tree branch, with the sounds of the tree crickets still prominent.

-Buck Yates’ head then appears from underneath the swamp, with a large and incredibly sharp hunting knife held in the clutches of his bite. Buck flickers up-and-down his eyebrows a few times as he keeps his body submerged in the filth close to the embankment.

-Buck removes the knife from his teeth.

Buck: As the legend goes: Bindi is a fifteen-foot gator that terrorized the East Coast. Bindi is a scaley monster that once destroyed everythin’ in its wake. Don’t matter if ya buffalo or gazelle.. the legend is as truer as “The Diwan Forest Killer” himself. N’ ya it’s bait without ever knowin’ it was fackin’ peckish.

But don’t be fooled by what ya see n’ hear. Irwin never got close to Bindi. Not even a ten-foot bargepole between em’. That gator he paraded on ya idiot box was nothin’ more than a sedated eight-footer. Fackin’ flatter than a pancake n’ as gummy as ole Nana Yates.

-Buck dips his head in the water and when returning to the surface, he sprays out the rotten water.

Buck: But that’s not the legend they all want ya to know… Oops. Fackin’ cats out of the bin liner now what are ya gonna do about it?

-Buck begins washing in the putrid water. No soap.. just hand scoops of grime rubbed into his naked bare chest.

Buck: Sorry to fackin’ flop ya raging hard-ons, but Irwin ain’t no real-life Crocodile Dundee; he’s a fraud just like that gator wanderin’ around with Bindi’s fackin’ passport.

Irwin ain’t caught nothin’ bigger than a pesky Murray Cod, that ole Bucky-boy can catch when dossin’ about any day on his best weekend. But ya fackin’ programmed to believe in somethin’ that some silly barstard tells ya, aren’t ya stupid?

Ya a sucker for the hero. Ya want to believe that some good-lookin’ blonde Aussie slayed a fifteen-foot dino n’ set all of the villagers free. Good ole Irwin savin’ the fackin’ day, our nightmares finally over. Well step out of ya fackin’ bubbles for just a second, n’ do ya honestly believe in St. George and the dragon?

The fancy important people told ya a lie. They didn’t catch Bindi. Fack, it might as well of been one of those inflatables. N’ Irwin was the poster boy. Irwin matched what they wanted and fit the bill for ya true special hero’s story.

But shh, listen..

-Buck Yates then snatches the knife from the clutches of his jaws. His facials show a man looking startled yet intrigued. With Buck’s head cocked, he listens to the swamp of Diwan as the tree crickets become even more centralized.

Buck: Bindi lives. Bindi…

-Buck looks around, inquisitively yet hesitantly.

Buck: ..She’s among us.

-Buck creepily smiles with his three whole teeth on show, like a little grotesque boy on Christmas day.

Buck: Bindi’s ancestors.. are two million years old. They’re dinos of the fackin’ game. Ya gotta respect these killin’ machines. All the signs are all by the lake, givin’ ya the darn willies. It’s at ya own fackin’ risk if ya wonna wash ya sweaty bollocks in these waters, mate.

These waters bein’ HOW. N’ Chris Kostoff bein’ two million years old.. in dingo years.

The legend has it.. not to be messed with, n’ never gonna stop the barstard. Like my princess Bindi.. ya the most feared without ever havin’ to waggle ya tallywacker in front of anyone. But Kostoff, Buck has already fought this game of cowboys and South Asians once before. Buck has got the scars to prove it, see..

-Buck then emerges from the bog. I’d like to say like a strapping Daniel Craig playing 007 but only if Daniel had been beaten with an ugly stick since birth.

-Buck places the knife back in the clutches of his jaws and shows us that he’s sporting some horrid tightie-whities. Whilst panting heavily, Buck then removes the knife from his jaws and proceeds to show the HOW cameras the biggest circular-like scar ever seen. The deep tissue scars are located on the whole of Buck’s right side as he lifts up his arm.

Buck: The barstard got a taste. Just a taste, Chris. But Bindi couldn’t finish its meat n’ gravy that night.. ‘cos my thumb gouged deep in its cod-eye.

It sunk its jaws in me, Chris.. about to roll, but Buck had other plans, see. It planned havin’ beef but got porcupine inside her fackin’ optic instead.

-Buck puts the point of the knife uncomfortably close to his own eyeball.

Buck: Bindi could well be two million years old, Bindi could well be heavier than six stallion zebras, n’ could fackin’ well be as long as the whole Diwan swamp.

But Holy fackin’ Mary.. Buck is believer, Saint Christopher. The legend lives.

-Buck outspreads his arms like the Holy Father himself.

Buck: The HOW can paint Chris Kostoff how they fackin’ want. With a brush.. or with Austin fackin’ Reeves baseball bat. The people can have all the stories n’ all of those precious memories of what they think they can remember.. ‘cos like big ole Bindi, ya threat, fear n’ torture needs guttin’ like a dirty pig.

Buck’s countryman, Austin Reeves.. takes on ”The Undead Monster” Chris Kostoff himself at ICONIC. But don’t ya fackin’ think for one diddlely that this is some warm-up. ‘Cos Lee has well n’ fackin’ truly thrown the cat amongst the gators. This is no exhibition ya stupid buggar.. I’ma cut ya first. See if the legend bleeds..

-Buck runs the blade slowly down on the surface of his own cheek, drawing blood.

Buck: The legend is passed on from villagers like Diwan, Chinese-whispered along stormy seas and made mythical by fairies that swap dollars for nashers. Buck knows the legend, n’ if what I’ve heard is true; like the legend himself, then boy.. there’s a prick in my tightie-whities ‘cos Bucky-boy is darn excited.

-A quick downward shot of Buck’s nether-regions, but the camera reverts almost instantly back to its original shot before catching anything notable.

Buck: Like Bindi, stalkin’ n’ huntin’ ya prey.. then when the time is right ya strike. Ya fackin’ caused hell at Refueled XI.. but I’m no fackin’ Mall Cop.

Buck: Shh, listen. Do ya hear that?

Minus the tree crickets, silence consumes.

Buck: ..It’s her. It’s Bindi.

Ya were quiet. As quiet as a house mouse.. as quiet as a fifteen-foot legendary beast. But not done by choice; not choosing the easy path n’ to stay in jail in this game of monopoly we call professional wrasslin’. Ya were calculated.

Like Bindi, to stay on top of the food chain ya gotta be the most brain-boxed predator of all. But Crikey, did ya know the biggest reptiles on this very globe still produce tears, Chris? Fack, even as big n’ as bad as Bindi is.. the bitch still feels the same shit like every bugger else.

-Buck looks hypnotically at the knife as he holds it up, rotating the blade.

Buck: They’ll be no gator tears come Refueled XII, Chris.

-Ironically, the running blood on Buck’s cheek mimics a tear.

Buck: Naw, not when I’ma jam this facker in ya lachrymal gland. The pain ya have inflicted is passed its sell-by, mate. The legend.. the legend, we all thought lived as a myth has gained a voice again. N’ if nobody does anythin’ about it then we’re gonna have a bloody massacre on our hands, aren’t we?

-The hypnotic look then transcends into a heinous glare and arrogant chuckle.

Buck: Ya age span of two million years in the HOW waters have exceeded the fackin’ average gator. Congrats, ya a livin’ breathin’ legend.. but like Bindi; we can’t leave ya alone. Ya knew that when Lee met Barbie. N’ Bindi knew that when she watched her fake Santa take all of the fackin’ credit.

Ya, Bindi is still out there, ruling the fackin’ roost, but her time is comin’ to an end.. n’ she knows that. With one fackin’ eye, just like you, Chris. But where Bindi wants to be cut like a propa Christmas turkey.. she knows it has to come full circle, like my scar of 02. We need to go deep into the waters again like you and Lee.

-Buck puts the knife horizontally as he examines it, closer.

Buck: Hey Chirs… leg or the wing?

-Buck chuckles louder.

Buck: They say: the legend never dies, but who truly does fackin’ know? Lie, lie, lie. Feed them this, feed them that. But who is ole Buck Yates to kill ya hopes? Ya dreams? Ya legends of kings n’ pretty little roses all in a row? I can’t kill the fairytale now, can I? Mickey Mouse n’ the upholders of the good-life all waitin’ with double barrel shotguns if the true legends were to escape those pretty little lips.

But Chris, shhh.

-Buck signals to be quiet by using his index finger placed over his lips.

Buck in a whispered-tone: let’s just say..

-Buck animatedly looks left, and then right.

Buck: It’s our dirty little secret.

-Buck giggles like a little deranged schoolgirl.

-A cutaway of Buck Yates (with pigtails, still in his tightie-whities) stood exactly in the same place giggling (with his hand over his mouth) gets spliced in.

-We go back to the original live footage of Buck in the swampland, but Buck is even closer.

Buck: Bindi. I’m comin’..

-Buck then turns his back on the camera to reveal a chimp-like back, full of hair. Not failing to mention that Buck’s tightie-whities is stuck to his buttocks, revealing.. quite a lot, actually.

-Buck jams the knife between his teeth and charges the swamp like a leggy giraffe in the hunt for Bindi. In the hunt for.. the legend.