Dave and Wal Show

Wal and Dave were amazed Sandy had written that last bit but they thought overall it was a great article. Biddie and Mrs Scott the station's PR officer thought so too.

Another newspaper and three magazine interviews followed.

The guys worked on replacing their opening show of skits with an even better line-up.

The second show opened with Dave in the kitchen alone. He put a prune on the side of a chef's big knife and flicked it up in the air and it didn't come down.

He tried again and the prune bounced off his head.

He tried again and instead of catching it in his mouth it landed in his eye.

The studio audience screamed in laugher.

Dave gave up and a female's voice on the inter-com boomed out, "A reporter Miss Jennings from the Evening Star is coming through Dave. She wishes to interview you."

Dave made exaggerated movements to brush his fringe back and then to check that his zip was up. His finger got caught in the zip and he howled in pain and pulled it free.

"Hi Mr Jellicoe, I'm Sandy Jennings," called someone in a falsetto voice. That obviously was Wal.

"Oh Sandy Bottom from the mighty Sydney newspaper, the Evening Star."

"It's Sandy Jennings actually."

"What is?"

"Oh it doesn't matter. Could you demonstrate your cooking prowess for me? I wish to write an award-winning story for my newspaper."

"Oh you award your own awards?"

"Yes, that's why I have so many. Eight or nine hundred of them I believe."

"Right I'll make scones. Then you can take them home to your husband."

"I'm not married."

"Oh living in sin?"

"What?"

"Oh never mind. Feed the scones to seagulls and then see if they can take-off with a gutful of my cooking. That sort of thing sure beats working."

While Dave busied himself at the fridge, 'Miss Jennings' scratched at one of her boobs, frowned theatrically, and pulled it out. It was a huge bandage and she lost hold and it dropped unraveled, the studio audience screaming in laughter. She kicked that under the table and grabbed a glass bowl and thrust that down the front of her dress, giving herself one very large boob compared with the other one. She put on more lipstick, missing her lips so the circle went over the tip of her nose and return to go two inches below the bottom lip.

Some of the studio audience was almost in hysterics.

"Well here goes," said Dave and looking at Miss Jennings he asked, "Has one of your boobs punctured and what have you done to your face? Is that your tribal marking?"

"Please stop being personal. Before I know it you'll be asking for sex."

"Excuse me but the way you are built it won't be me doing the asking."

"Please get on with it."

"No this is a family cooking show. That sort of behavior ..."

"Get on with the cooking."

"Okay I can't remember quantities and whether I need to add golden syrup as well as baking soda but here goes. Guys listen carefully because I don't repeat my fabulous recipes:

Four cups of flour A tablespoon of baking powder A tablespoon of baking soda Quarter cup of salt Half of pound of butter Two cups of golden syrup A pint of milk."

"As you can see Sandy it's a very simple recipe."

"Are you sure about those quantities and shouldn't the golden syrup stay in the tin Master Chef?"

"No but does it matter? This is cooking instruction for men. They never take any notice of instructions and toss in extra of everything for good measure."

Dave rolled up his sleeves, tossed everything into a large mixing bowl and sank his hands in and began mixing. His hand mixing slowed as Sandy said crossly, "You didn't wash your hands."

"Why is that important?"

The audience looked sympathetic when Sandy just sighed.

Dave's hands came to a stop.

"Help me Sandy. Something's gone wrong. My hands are stuck. The mix is setting like concrete."

"I'm out of here," Sandy said, picking up her huge yellow handbag. "I'll feed the seagulls fish."

Dave looked up pathetically at the studio audience.

"Is there anyone out there with a comment?"

A woman stood at the studio audience clapped and looked at the beautiful woman admiringly.

Dave grinned. "Well damn me how unlucky can a guy get? It's the real Sandy Bottom, er Sandy Jennings, former beauty queen and now an award-winning newspaper reporter. Greetings Sandy. Have you decided to date me?"

"Yes I've received 500 emails from readers of the Evening News following publication of my interview of this show's first night screening."

"Oh brilliant. Five hundred people can't be wrong."

"All but ten of those 500 people pleaded with me not to go out with you, but then I've never been one to take instructions."

"Oh you must have male hormones. Well going out with you will be beaut Sandy. I'll treat you at my favorite burger bar over a can of beer."

The audience clapped and Dave said, "Do you have a final word Sandy?"

"Yes sweetie. Don't you every attempt to make scones in my pristine kitchen."

The studio audience loved it.

Dave called, "Time for a urination break people. Could someone get a jack-hammer to free my hands?"

The seventy-two people with Dave and Wal in the lounge bar watching the pre-recorded show were wiping their eyes and smiling fondly at the two guys. Only two scowling couples had walked out.

Biddie kissed both guys and said, "It's a cracker. I'll call you to the staff cafeteria in the morning."

"What for a beer?"

"Why don't you try to relax Dave," she sighed.

Biddie screamed into the phone to Wal, "You guys to the cafeteria NOW!"

Wal said, "I think our show's cancelled."

"Bullshit mate. Biddie called the second show a cracker. My money's on Biddie."

"Save your money mate. She does it for free."

Dave managed to look serious. "Why don't you try to relax Wal?"

"Huh?"

The cafeteria was crowded and everyone clapped when Wal and Dave entered, smiling brightly.

"As I said, the show was a cracker," Wal said, placing an arm over Dave's shoulder.

"Remove your arm mate or else you are dog tucker."

Wal hastily placed two hands behind his back and walked like Prince Philip.

People stood back to allow them through to where a small group of guys in black striped business suits and four women aping them in black-stripped business suits stood.

"Hi Dave, I'm the CEO Charles Bates. Your show is a cracker."

"Do you know enough about television to make that judgment Charlie? You're only the CEO?"

Charles was quite taken aback and people around him gasped.

"My wife and I and our two kids watched both shows and we laughed."

"Right Charlie, that's good enough for me. Thanks for your compliment. I suggest you note it's not my show. It's also Wal's show, Biddie's show, Claire the director's show and everyone else who works on the show. Wal and I would be nothing without them."

"Point taken Dave. I hadn't realized you possess a serious side. Well apparently you are the only two people in this building who don't read your compulsory-to-read emails. Your um the Dave and Wal Show last night held 485,336 viewers, breaking our previous highest viewing audience by more than 100,000."

"Gee that's pretty good isn't it?"

"Yes Wal. It's fantastic Sydney is waking up to you two guys and this morning we signed up the first advertiser who specifically asked for a urination ad break."

The crowd laughed and laughed even more when Dave said, "Great Charlie, you're capable of being funny."

"Well you guys are being paid a bonus..."

"We want that money spread over everyone in the show Mr Bates, you guys can work out fair proportionate distribution," Wal said. Dave said yeah.

"Oh, okay then. You guys are amazing. Well the next big news is Phil Lucas our program director wants funding to allow the show to run a full 26-week season and we will approve that."

"But that means hard work for 26 weeks plus the lead-in time. Fair go Charlie, you're pushing us hard. Everyone else is on salary so you best push up our pay rate."

"Already done Wal, your pay rate is being trebled and back-dated."

"Wal and I find that acceptable thanks Charlie. We were thinking of calling Channel 7 to see if they were interested in us."

Charlie turned white.

"Just kidding."

Charlie relaxed.

CHAPTER 2

"Fat pay rise, good eh?"

Wal nodded.

The guys were walking down to sign up for credit cards. They'd previously never had made enough money to find credit card ownership useful.

They were disappointed that everyone they saw in George Street didn't recognize them. They decided the two women who did smile warmly at them were hookers.

However as they entered the bank in Martin Place a female yelled, "Omigod Wal and Dave, super cooks."

There was bedlam and they were rushed, female tellers closing their stations and racing out to join the adoration. Security escorted the guys into the day manager's office and then cleared the crowd.

They left the bank with platinum cards and fees waivered for the first two years on the understanding they'd work in the name of the bank into two episodes of the show.

"You mean have a skit about robbing your bank."

The manager turned white.

As they walked from the bank, with people waving and calling good luck, Wal said, "Why do bank tellers have big tits?"

"Well the guys worked out in the gym and the females were born that way. Are you sure they are called tellers. I thought in these times they would be called customer service providers."

"Does it matter?"

"No Wal but we like bank tellers who have big tits and our bank does pretty well in our score."

They took home champagne and Carla, Rosie and Di were full of news about how people at their workplaces were raving about last night's show.

"We watched with our boyfriends last night and they couldn't believe us when we insisted you guys weren't acting, that you're like that all the time," Rosie said.

"Yeah and they can't believe you are about to nail Sandy Beach, um Sandy Jennings Dave. She'd such a class act."

Di smiled sweetly. "Yeah a real class act. We thought you must have paid her to say on TV she'll date you."

Dave sighed and said, "Let's go out for dinner tonight. I feel like eating food I can enjoy."

The girls and Wal laughed thinking he was joking.

Next morning the PR officer Mrs Scott came in, kissed Dave and smiled warmly at Wal.

Kate said, the Westfield Shopping Centre at Bondi Junction wants you two to made a public appearance for two hours from 11:30 this Saturday and sign autographs."

"Sorry Kate, cannot do that. Wal and I always go fishing on Saturdays."

"The appearance free for each of you is $3500."

"What time did you say Mrs Scott?" Wal asked.

As they left, the guys promising to be there on time, Wal said, "Why does she kiss you?"

"Dunno. The instinct of a young mother I guess."

Wal scratched his nuts. "What does that mean?"

"I have no idea."

They hade just returned from finishing recording their next show. Mrs Scott came into the guy's office. She gave Wal fifty bucks and told him to go buy a beer. As he left, looking curious, he heard the door being locked behind him.

He grinned with dawning enlightenment.

Traffic is always at a crawl around Bondi Junction on Saturday morning but on this occasion is was at a standstill, horns blaring, fist waving and extra police were attempting to gain control. Extra trains had been put on to get public to the Junction.

"Something big is on," Dave said. "Must be nude dancing or big time Rugby League stars making an appearance to sing 'Australia Fair'.

Wal scratched and said, "Perhaps it's a cooking demo by celebrity cooks."

Carla said, "You fools, it's Sydney coming to see you guys in the flesh."

"What?" Dave said gaping.

The other two women agreed and said their popularity had taken off.

"You two can now wallow in sex," Rosie said. "All women give it generously to celebrities. Even we three are beginning to think about it."

"But unfortunately we know what you are really like," said Di, spoiling that promise.

"Guys pull your caps low before someone recognizes you. If that happens we'll never make the mall."

One of the very tall mall managers said, "Hi guys I didn't realize from TV you guys were so short."

There were introduced to a female mall manager and she said she hadn't realized Dave and Wal were so tall.

Dave said to Wal, "You can find humor everywhere you look eh Shorty."

"Yeah you 7-foot funny man."

They were told a barbecue had been set up for them and asked what did they wish to cook. The two people boggled when Dave gave them his list of requirements.

The crowd was huge and shoppers were told not to rush to see the Dave and Wal Cooking for Guys Show because it would run for two hours.

They wore remote mikes and two camera operators were filming to show them on the big screen.

Two small boys approached them for autographs.

Wal signed 'Wal' with a flourish and Dave wrote 'X' twice in the books.

"I can't write," Dave lied. "Tell your moms to write my name under my cross."

"I write like shit too," said one of the six-year olds. That was picked up on Dave's remote microphone and the crowd roared almost hysterically.

Dave got behind the barbecue. "Hi I'm Dave and my lovely assistant with her pretty blonde hair is Wal."

Wal put the blonde wig on backwards and uncovered his eyes and waved, saying hi.

Dave called, "Are there any mechanics here."

Several guys and a couple of women called yes.

"Well here's something good for morning break, a sandwich pertinent to your trade.

'You slice the break roll like this and discard the thumb you accidentally sliced off," said Dave, throwing something into the trash bin and the crowd closest went "Ugh" when he held up the sliced bread roll with a dollop of tomato sauce on it and said, "Pretend the blood is tomato sauce and remember tough guys don't cry and tears make the bread wet."

He cut a big wedge out of a lettuce and said, "A slice of lettuce, and adding a pork chop said "A small bit of pork" and pouring half of bottle of dressing over that the crowd yelled "A wee bit of mayonnaise."

"Oh have you guys seen this on some other show?"

They laughed, really relating to Dave.

"Okay now this sandwich roll for an airline pilot."

"For a mechanic," roared the crowd.

"Yeah for a motor mechanic honey," said Wal, passing Dave a small wrench.

The crowd roared and roared even more when Dave put it into the sandwich and added some vinegar calling it rust inhibitor, added the top and said, "Here we have the ultimate sandwich for a mechanic. Is any mechanic prepared to pay me fifty bucks for this? The money will go towards payment of Westfield Shopping Centre's overdue tax bill."

There were no takers.

A boy about seven held up his hand.

"Yes Gavin?"

"My name is John."

"Sorry Johnno. How much will you pay?"

"I have 5c."

"Right give me that and I'll give you two dollars change. Tell your mum I wasn't any good at math at school either. How are you teeth?"

"A big crooked mum says with some fillings."

"Oh good. Don't bother taking the wrench out when you bite into the roll. Here you go Johnno and always do what your mom says. She won't want the toilet bowl cracked in the morning when you pass that wrench."

"Mom says I can take the two dollars but I'm not to take the sandwich."

"Oooh, you'll be operating a shop with the best turnover in this mall when you grow up. Look I'll remove the wrench for you to give to your dad and I'll toss the roll into the trash."

"What are you waiting for Johnno? I gave you the wrench."

"You took my 5 cents. I'm waiting for my change."

"Ah good boy. Give the kid five bucks Wal."

Wal bend down, pulled off a boot, fished out a five-dollar note and gave it to John.

The laughing crowed clapped and called for more.

"I'm exhausted?" Dave said, wiping his brow. "You women will know how exhausting it can be making a sandwich. That's why the house is left in such a mess isn't it. Wal will do the next demonstration."

"Right folk, I'm a serious cook. I don't play the fool like Dave does. Is there a doctor in the house, male."

Three guys held up their hands.

"I'll made an omelet suitable for a medical man. But first I want five bucks to get back the five bucks Dave screwed out of me for John's change. Cripes that amount of change really shows the extent of inflation even on 5 cents.

"Thanks doctor. Here is comes being passed overhead. Watch everyone in case someone attempts to pocket it. We know not everyone here is reputable and lives at Bondi Junction."

"Right lightly butter the pan guys," Wal said, ripping the wrapping off a pound of butter and tossing the butter into the trash. He wiped the pan with the wrapper until an elderly woman called, "Young man you are meant to lightly butter INSIDE the pan."

"Woopsie I have a bipolar brain."

"Right you crack open four eggs and pour contents into pan and toss shells into trash... I think that's the right way round," Wal said, cracking each egg on his head.

"Remove hair from pan," he said. "Add a spoonful of cream. Oh no spoon. Let's slosh in a dash. Woopsie. And now cuddie."

"You mean coddle," called the old woman. "But that applies to eggs in water. You must whisk the eggs unhurriedly and gently and try to let air into the mix. Don't you beat the mix when you do an omelet?"

"Thanks Cuddles. No beating is for energetic people. I cook like men do, lazily."

"Right that's coming along nicely. Whoa I forgot seasoning. Oh this one is for people who don't add salt to food. Now since this is for a doctor, we add a pig's ear, a piece of heart, two lots of liver and this purple stuff represents bruising. I now fold the other half of the omelet over like this, woopsie, and here we have an original omelet called the Doctor's Special that is also known as the Patient's Revenge. Would the doctor who paid the five bucks please come forward?"

"He's gone," cried someone at the back. "He was running."

"Yeah and looking very bilious," called another guy.

"Who wants this omelet?"

No one put up their hand.

"Oh well into the bin it goes," Wal said, throwing it backwards and Dave moved and ducked and it caught him right in the face.

"Yummy," he yelled and the crowd went wild.

* * *

Dave called in a cab for Sandy that evening to go on their first date. He wondered would she marry him.

A taller version of Sandy but less beautiful, answered the door knock.

"Hi I'm Jasmine. Everyone but my parents calls me Jazz. Sandy apologizes and says her fiancée called at the last minute and said he doesn't want her to go out with you. She is so sorry and is distressed. She is prepared to talk to you but mum thinks that's not a great idea."

"What do you suggest?"

"Take me out instead. I don't have a steady boyfriend so I don't require permission to date you."

"Okay. Grab your bag and tell Sandy I'm relaxed about it and still think she'd lovely. Tell your parents we will be at the Orion Restaurant and I'll have you home by 10:30."\

Jazz came out smiling and said, I told mum and dad you are taking me to the Orion Restaurant and not to expect me home before 1:30 because we'll be going clubbing. Sandy said she had been confident you wouldn't rant and said I'm lucky to be going out with you. She thinks I'm not very sophisticated."

"Is that you idea of humor?"

"No it's how it is. I'm not sure if I really have humor."

"Oh that's us off to a good start."

"Excuse me?"

"Um oh, we have Sandy's blessing."

Jazz was as tall as Dave, who was six feet and both had fair hair and blue eyes, making him think they looked like a team. But linking up with a woman who doubted she had humor, had he lost it? Well it was only for one night. She'd get pissed, he'd take her home and all over Rover.