Salient Showdown

There is tragedy in the air as Simon Ironguts Wilson leaps onto his white horse for the historic last ride for 1978 down that dusty Main St of journalism that is called Salient. The tragic element is principally a result of his missing the horse completely and collapsing ungracefully in the dust on the other side at the dirty feet of Lamorna Rogers. Does she pick him up? No she laughs long and loud showing an equally tragic lack of respect that is picked up and developed by Vass Gavriel, Andrew Delahunty and David Beresford, to the point where they are laughing, howling, coughing and spluttering in a highly medically risky manner.

The White Horse walks slowly away sighing and looking at the sky. Down the road well, known Dark horse Dave Macpherson turns to face the enemy. "Take this you son of a bitch", he says staring the Pale Horse in the eye and shooting a hole as big as a [unclear: 50s] piece in his foot. High above the whole scene the bloodshot eyes of Allan Highet stare from a roof guttering, and a shot rings out. The bullet passes through the unsuspecting neck of Marie Rogers, the left buttock of Bruce Robinson, drills a huge hole in the guts of Neil Gray to finally bounce off Mike Stephen's head and fall clattering into the gutter. It rests there for a minute of so and then leaps up again to rocket through half a dozen or so more people including such notables as Greg Cotmore, Sue Cairney and Karen Lyness.

Down the other end of the street famous Manchurian camel-thief and Ginseng Tea salesman David Murray is drilling for oil. Standing beside him is the business manager of the huge multinational conglomerate Rick Danko Green Vegetables Inc, Lorraine "Everybody wears greatcoats in Ireland" Robinson, more latterly blown as "Suprise Peas O'Reilly." Nearby a Texaco ten ton tanker waits for the big strike with its engine running. "Shouldn't be long now" says Murray, "we're down to twenty five feet and all indications are good." "I hope so", says O'Reilly, "we've only got the tanker for the day you know. Good about actually getting it right to the spot so easily anyway." "Well, that's why I decided to drill here" says Murray, "right on the road you know." "Bloody good thinking" says Jim Brown flying overhead, heading for the coast.

Outside the saloon Peter "Lamb for the slaughter" Beach tells Meg Bailey about the time he was sitting in the very back row during an English lecture and the guy up in front looks straight at him and says "maturity is the realisation that the world doesn't revolve around You", there and then; first, it wasn't true; and secondly there was a conspiracy afoot to make him think it was. So he dropped out an joined Drama School where he met John 'Othello" McDavitt and they got together to form a theatre group and toured the country. Don Wright, another member of the group, had just been hung that morning for wiping out three members of the audience during a moving performance of "Ned Kelly" in the Saloon the night before. Tonight new overnight sensation Ralph Proops is scheduled to play lead in "Hamlet", an obscure little ditty about this schizophrenic who can't decide whether or not To Be but not to worry, if he's no good this audience will probably decide for him.

The door of the saloon opens and out stumbles a red-nosed Jonathan Scott who sobbingly refused to ever write another Salient Notes and tried to shoot himself in the head with a half empty bottle of beer. "Bloody idiot" laughs Leonie Morris when the bottle suddenly goes off and blows Scott's brains out.

Inside the air is heavy with smoke, not from cigarettes but from the bar which is on fire down one end. Sean Tuohy enters just in time to see the unfortunately short-sighted Grant Liddell lay down five aces before a suprised Cathy Randall, David Beach and Harold Merriman. Speaking as a whole, he loses the game, and his frayed body is taken outside for a game of soccer. Local dancing girls Debbie Finberg, Debbie Brabout, Rire Scotney and Caroline Stephens put on a spirited performance of the Apache Shuffle, followed by the popular Las Vegas Pickup and culminating in the lesser known Audience Arousal and Gang Rape. "Encore!" shouts an infatuated Kevin Young, although quite incapable of acheiving such a feat himself.

"It being Saturday night, Hamlet is in for a bit of serious competition on the entertainment scene. On the other side of the street the Presbyterian Grandmothers Guild turn up in a blaze of dust on a fleet of Norton 850 Commandos and Triumph 750's kicking Peter Erlich and John Bailey out of the way and congregating in an angry revving mass outside the local dance hall. Yes it's their job to organise tonight's District [unclear: Dance and they climb] off their machines and totter on their walking sticks inside to begin decorating, led by 108 year old Committee President Sally Blundel and an assortment of well-known geriatrics including Kathy Moody, Sally Redman, Clo Taylor, Peter Cresser and Victoria Kennedy. There's a pretty cryptic history of pregnancy booms, crime waves and major losses of human life surrounding these dances, and in fact their future has recently been called into question, but unfortunately it was a question no-one seems prepared to answer. Anyway darkness is falling and up the road David Murray can be heard drilling for oil.

"I'm coming to get you Jake", comes a voice, the door of the Barbers Office opens, and walking backwards out the door comes Double Barrel Doug Thompson. "I'm counting to ten Jake", he says continuing past curious onlookers Tom Duggan and Stephen Benbrook and walking backwards under a passing stage coach. "This is your last chance Jake", comes a muffled voice from under the stage coach which has stopped momentarily to let off three passengers (Ann Humphries, Michael Hamblyn and Nigel Wilson).

"Won't tell you again Jake comes a troubled voice from the road after the coach has left. "Who the hell's Jake?" queries Andrew Casey as he saunters out of the Saloon with his cronies Bruce McLay and Mark Derby. "I'll kill you Jake" stammers Thompson trying to drag himself off the road. Derby swings round instinctively and plants a bullet between his eyes. "What'd you do that for Jake?" he gasps, and collapses. Far off in the distance an oil rig hums.

Round the corner from the dance hall entrance Lindy Cassidy sits at a stall selling Avacado Pears. 'With or without?" she is asking prospective customer David Kent. "Fair enough", says Kent, entering the crowded hall. "Can you buy them singly'" asks Debbie Montgomery. "Smart shit eh?" inquires Lindy Cassidy, turning to take a stiff shot of Tequila from a barrel at her side. Inside the hall things are really moving. Disco has hit the west and newly formed local band The Inane Lyrics are really pumping it out. "Boogie!" sings lead vocalist James Morgan;

"Boogie yeah yeah". "Profound man, profound" sighs bassist Stephen "Danko" A'Court. "Relate to it man" insists Nitrous Oxide Norm ripping Helen Aikman's drum set with his guitar. "Why are you doing that man?" asks spaced out keyboards player Peter "Frampt on" Franks. "Sounds much better than if I play it" explains Chris, throwing it affectionately out into the audience where it bounces off Caroline Massof's head, "Why you beast!" she says slapping Andrew Beach her dancing partner, half a dozen times. "Come with me mate", says Lisa Sacksen, the sherriff, grabbing him by the arm and shuffling him off.

Outside on the landing a couple sit close in the darkness. "Oh you big strong hulk you", says Martha Coleman. "I bet you get all the nice girls." "Pardon?" says Margot MacGillivray. Far off in the distance there is the sound of someone drilling for oil "Sound like someone drilling for oil", says Katherine Fleming. "That's better folks. Let's just hope he strikes it big in time for the first issue next year.