'Could be in for a storm.' Remarks a relaxed front passenger, his feet straddling an "Esky" containing eleven coldies and one in hand. Splinta suggested leaving some beers at home but The Wizard wouldn't be in that. Two small dogs lie on the back floor, only slightly sedated. Splinta wants them wide awake next morning, when greeting a new master.

'Yeah! There's a bit of lightning over to the west. Hope it holds off for a bit.'

Splinta's curly hair blows wildly; the old Valiant's quarter vents wide open, every window wound down, easing night air's thick humidity. If the temperature's dropped since sunset, nobody's noticed

'Ever been finger printed?' asks Splinta, backing the old Valiant to the wrecker's padlocked wire mesh gates.

'No!'

'Good! If we're disturbed drop everything and jump in the car. Better leave ya door open in case we need a quick get away.'

Boot unlocked, keys back in ignition. Two guard dogs watch every move dognappers make.

'Thought they'd be barking their heads off.' comments The Wizard.

'Intelligent breed these. Can't rip us apart if they scare us away.' says Splinta handing bolt cutters to assistant. 'Cut along both gates, near the ground, wide enough to shove the dishes through.' Splinta ties wire through holes in dishes.

'Okay!' say Splinta, exchanging galvanised pipe for bolt cutters. He chops holes in wire mesh, directly above cuts below. Bolt cutters go back into boot. 'Stick the pipe through the hole. Fits okay? Good! Now when I stick the dish through. Push the pipe into it. Secure it to the ground. Ready?'

'Piss off.' hisses Splinta. Soldier tries stealing the dish entering his domain. Shove the pipe down. Hit him on the head Wiz. ... Pull it up. Pull it up before he pisses of with it.' Splinta tries with the dish again as Soldier goes for the pipe. 'Stick the pipe into the dish Wiz. Come on! Quick!'

'Wooooooolf'. Matilda charges gates, letting loose a solitary monstrous bark, five octaves below a bass. Gates hold but both men hear them groan.

'Hang on. Hang onto the pipe.'

Soldier tries capturing the pipe. Matilda's front paws press inches from Wizard's face. Gate hinges creak and moan. Wire mesh strains. Matilda's barking incessantly. The Wizard desperately grips pipe pressed into dish which Splinta quickly ties.

Dish secured, Splinta hurriedly rips cardboard, plastic, unscrews a top and pours beer down galvanised pipe. Another stubby quickly opened then another, poured down pipe into dish. The dish all but flips, Soldier's massive paws take one position then another grappling with the pipe.

'Wiz. Pull the pipe out.'

The pipe goes horizontal, Soldier locks on.

'Help Little Splinta. Help!' Both men strain. Every hand and arm muscle, every sinew stretches, flexes. Perspiration covers the pipe, hands slip, adjust grip. Soldier's jaws lock, teeth penetrate steel. He's winning the tug-o-war.

'We need the pipe. Don't let him take it Wiz.'

'Charge!' yells The Wizard.

Grip releases, Soldier runs off. Two dognappers fall backwards into the old Valiant's boot. Bolts snap in the darkness, Soldier pulls free a bumper bar. Matilda ceases barking, awaiting the next move.

'Better grab a couple of beers Wiz.'

Wizard returns with two cold stubbies, one already opened and partaken. 'What happens now?'

'We wait mate. I've yet to see a dog that doesn't enjoy beer.'

'You're not wasting a carton on two mutts are you?'

'Consider it an investment.'

Soldier parades proudly before two men, bumper bar in mouth. Splinta stands in the boot, cuts another opening high in the mesh then inserts the pipe. When Soldier parades beneath, Splinta pours beer that falls on Soldier's head. 'They haven't got a taste for it yet.' says Splinta.

Matilda sniffs beer in the metal dish. She walks away. Splinta pours more beer on Soldier's head. Soldier looks up, investigating. Splinta pours more, it cascades onto Soldier's nose and muzzle. Soldier drops the bumper bar, licks his mouth, both sides and awaits another amber shower. Splinta accommodates. Soldier's slab like tongue works left then right savouring each tasty drop.

'Grab another stubby Wiz. A warm one please mate. ... Open it! Pour the lot. Give him a good shower.'

'Don't make me do it. Please Little Splinta.'

'It's an investment Wiz. We get these two pissed and we'll be rolling in cartons.'

Splinta holds the pipe steady, Wizard pours. Soldier's tongue laps and slurps. The shower stops, Soldier's head lowers into the metal dish, tongue now fervent, he's got the taste.

'Good Soldier!' says Splinta.

Wizard opens another warm stubby.

'Hang on a tick Wiz. .. Make him wait. Make him desperate for more.'

'Like lady's legs Little Splinta.'

'What do ya mean?'

'Kept closed 'till ya desperate.'

'Never thought 'bout it that way. Mainly 'cause I've never had a root.'

'With a bit of luck a certain librarian will steal your cherry after the singalong.'

Splinta laughs. 'Is she blind Wiz? Or so ugly we'll be exchanging cherries?'

'No little mate. She's a good sort.'

Curious, Matilda casually lumbers to Soldier. Tongue swipes his wet muzzle. Another swipe. Soldier enjoys unexpected attention.

'Stubbys away.' Splinta smells success. The Wizard pours into the dish. 'And anotheree. ... Keep 'em coming.'

Matilda gets the taste, her affections dissolve. She nudges Soldier away from the dish. His tongue soon returns but retreats from a deep, intimidating, guttural growl.

'Here hold the pipe and keep pouring Wiz. I'll organise the other dish for the out gunned Soldier.'

Splinta pushes through the second metal dish but Soldier wants to play with it. 'Has she got enough to last awhile?'

'You reckon they cost a fortune to feed. No way you'd keep the grog up to 'em.'

'Quick the pipe! Over here! ... Stick it in the dish when I push it through. Pour beer as you do it. Doesn't matter if some lands on the ground. Our Soldier's not fussy.'

Wizard travels between amber troughs, no time for a drink himself. Splinta opens stubbies.

'How many left Little Splinta?'

'Down to a dozen. Time to give 'em a rest while we have a beer.'

Two dognappers suck leisurely on coldies. Rottweilers look up with expressions so pathetic that Wizard shouts each dog a generous drop.

'Fellow drunks already. It's going to be some party.' suggests Splinta uncapping the whiskey.

'Not the whiskey too?'

'Never get 'em pissed on beer. They already drank half a carton, not even a hic cup. Mix it with the beer of course.'

'Should give 'em chasers. Tastes better that way.'

'Good thinkin' Wiz. Matilda first.'

Wizard steadies the pipe, Matilda gets a shot of cheap domestic whiskey. It makes her back away. Half a stubby soon follows. Insatiable tongue rattles the dish.

Soldier hesitates briefly at the whiskey. 'Good boy Soldier.' encourages Splinta. 'And now for your chaser.'

Back to Matilda. 'Might be better to mix hers 'till she gets the taste.'

As Splinta pours whiskey, his assistant gently pours beer. Such precision. No wastage. Can not afford too. Splinta underestimated the grog supply.

'We better go sparingly with Soldier. He'll be okay. It's Matilda we want legless.'

'But if she's legless how do we get her into the car?'

'I saw a hand operated fork lift this morning. Just hope the wrecker didn't move it.'

Matilda's face flops into dish. Splinta grabs bolt cutters and chops through chain securing both gates. He cuts wires from metal dishes, disposes with bolt cutters, grabs a muzzle and lead from the boot.

'Good boy. Gooooood Soldier.' says Splinta opening gates and slipping a lead on unconcerned Soldier's collar. 'Come on Soldier. Come on boy. Coming for a ride in the car?' Soldier accepts the invitation; dish now completely dry.

Wizard throws pipe into boot, discovers himself totally relaxed when Splinta hands him Soldier's lead.

'Let him sniff the back of ya wrist.' instructs Splinta trying to fit a muzzle.

'What does that do?'

'Lets the dog sniff you for fear. No fear! No worries.'

'Oh! ... Muzzle won't fit?' asks Wizard. 'He'll be right, anyway.'

'Whatever you reckon Wiz. Sit him in the back. Then come and give us a hand.'

Wizard promises Soldier another beer when they get home, Soldier jumps eagerly into the car and placidly sniffs two dogs on the floor. Wizard thinks 'This is a good dog, turned lunatic by an idiot.'

Splinta pushes found hand operated fork lift to Matilda, lowers the platform to minimal height. 'Time for the other two dogs Wiz.'

Wizard brings the Chihuahua then returns for the Terrier. When he arrives with the Terrier, Splinta's swapping Matilda's name tag with the Chihuahua. 'Grab Soldier's tag mate.'

Metal dishes go into boot. The scene clean except for Matilda. Splinta lays a blanket in the boot.

'Nice 'n cosy for her Little Splinta?'

'No Wiz. Need the blanket to tip her out.'

Dognappers roll Matilda onto fork lift, push to the boot, drop her in. 'Grab yourself another stubby Wiz. I'll get rid of the fork lift.'

Brilliant lightning chains; greens, purples and white, flicker and dazzle the night sky as Splinta backs the old Valiant to a large gum tree standing inside his back fence. In stinging rain Matilda's tipped from the boot and chained to gum tree. Soldier invited inside for a beer.

'You better camp in the spare room tonight.' suggests Splinta.

'Yeah! Good thinking Little Splinta. The weather's shithouse.'