A long way from Brisbane by(that1hugboxer)

This is a continuation of Štěpán & Mammoth by (that1hugboxer)

“Jiemba . you have to leave her behind or they will catch up with us.”

You look down at the 3 year old girl clinging to your hand.

“Yindi climb on my back I’ll carry you.”

“You are a fool Jiemba there’s no way we’ll make it with her slowing you down.”

“Miro I’m not leaving her behind.”

“Jiemba I’m sorry but for the sake of the group I’m leaving you behind.”

Miro hands you the shotgun.

“I won’t leave a man defenseless ,You got one shot so make it count .”

You jolt awake.

You turn on the oil lamp and pick up Waru your SBS micro fluffy out of his blanket lined cardboard box ,and begin your day by changing his diaper and gently cleaning him up .

You look over at the Greener martini prison shotgun hanging on the wall of the cellar.

You are Jiemba Kukatja an Australian inmate who escaped from Brisbane Gaol half a century ago . 23 years ago you moved to Harper valley Texas where you now live in the abandoned town of Argo making moonshine.

You walk over to a fluffy pen in the corner of the room.

“Wake up Cadwyn. It’s time for you to feed waru.”

A regular sized bright pink mare huffs and waddles over.

“Daddeh cadwyn nu wan’ gib miwkies tu dummeh babbeh nu mowe!”

“Cadwyn you know the deal, you feed Waru and in between feeding times you get to play with your friends.”

“NU CAWE! Cadwyn wan’ pway nao!”

You stomp your foot.

“You will feed waru milk or I will cut off all your legs and make you feed him, understood!?”

Cadwyn gulps.

“Y……Yus Daddeh!”

You watch her closely to make sure she doesn’t try anything while feeding Waru. Once he’s finished eating you pick him up and put him in your shirt pocket.

“Alright Cadwyn you can play with the your friends until I need you again.”

Cadwyn waddles over to the other fluffies in the pen and begins playing with them.

You hear a knock on the door of the cellar.

You grab the shotgun off the wall and approach the door.

“Who’s there?!”

An old wheezy voice answers from the other side of the door.

“It’s Hank McCloud yah old coot !”

You smile open the cellar door and let him in.

“Hank you magnificent grumpy bastard ,How’s life been treating you?!”

Hank chuckles.

“My granddaughter is getting married soon and she wants enough lightning jugs for all 56 of the guests, you think you can make that happen?

“56 gallons!? Now that’s my kind of wedding!”

You tally up his total .

“That’l be $672”

Hank reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a stack of bills

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Oh I almost forgot. Here consider these a gift.”

Hank tosses you a box of twenty 12-14 gauge Greener shells .

You are at a loss for words.

Hank smiles

“I may or may not have bought a crate of them at auction recently along with the casing molds and primer blueprints.Whenever you need more I’ll gladly trade you a box or two for a couple jugs of lightning.”

Hank loads the moonshine in the back of his truck.

He then pets Waru.

“You take care of papa now. Ya hear?”

Waru lets out a squeaky coo .”

“Take care of yourself Hank.”

Hank laughs

“J what the hell are you on about?! You’re ten years my senior!”

Hank gets in his truck and drives off.

You place the shotgun back on the wall and place the box of shells on the shelf beneath it .


I wonder what he did to end up in prison. How did he emigrate with that kind of record?

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You would be surprised how easy it was / is to immigrate with a record especially 23 years ago

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Brisbane gaol was a real prison in Australia, in fact one of the worst, to the point that it became famous for riots and escapes, the living conditions were legitimately on par ww2 pow camps

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Things really have changed. Not for the better, though. Xenophobia is scary.

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australia, huh? he must be cold in texas


Texas probably feels like natural AC by comparison