Fans of the quirky “Worzel Gummidge” TV series, featuring the rascally scarecrow, will know that he has different heads for various occasions.
However, more recently, in the absence of his Creator, The Crowman, Worzel has got into even more strife than usual. You see, The Crowman has gone on a European tour, giving talks to packed audiences on how to make scarecrows. Sometimes, however, The Crowman is not a very good judge of character, and has left the matter of scarecrow management, in the area around Scatterbrook Farm, in the dodgy hands of someone who turned out to be a faux-Crowman – Rupie Murdoch.
Once the real Crowman departed, Rupie created a new head for Worzel – one that was by far the most obnoxious, most foul-mouthed scarecrow-head in the whole district – the Tony Abbott Head!
Also, Rupie hid all of Worzel’s usual heads, leaving him to don only the Tony Head for the foreseeable future. But if this obnoxious head made Worzel different from his normal persona, what remained consistent were his pathetic attempts to get Aunt Sally (Sarah Hanson-Young), to marry him.
But, as usual, Worzel’s advances come to naught and the feisty Aunt Sally just strings him along and then dumps him like a sack of far-from-weightless coal.
Worzel: Hey, Aunt Sally...are we goin’ to be one of them Forgotten Families for ever, or are you goin’ to marry me...or do I have to give you one of those judo chops and wreck the place...
Aunt Sally: Huh...by the look of this crappy barn, you’ve wrecked the place already...And, anyway, why would I marry you – you’ve been kissing fish again and you stink...Why, you smell even worse than CO2...So, if you don’t do something about it, I’ll get Rupie to chuck you on the compost heap...
[And so the bickering between Worzel and Aunt Sally goes on and on. Then, one day, as Worzel is again lounging in the barn, instead of manning his post and scaring rooks in Ten Acre Field, and still trying to convince Aunt Sally to marry him, the two kids from Scatterbrook Farm, Sue and John call in to see him, bearing a letter.
Worzel: Huh...what do you three pair want? An’ don’t forget I aren’t into pairs these days...heh...heh...An’ can’t you see I’m tryin’ to form one of those coal...coal...coalickey thingies with my Aunt Sally here? Now push off!
Aunt Sally: A coalickey! A coalickey with you, you dumb scarecrow! Why, I wouldn’t have a coalickey with you for all the wind-farms in the Windward Islands! You know, I’ve been to the Windward Islands...didn’t work out as I planned, unfortunately...
Sue (anguished): Oh, that’s awful, Aunt Sally – whatever happened?
Aunt Sally: Huh...they said they wanted me to come out and give some talks on how I was the bestest greenie in all the world...But when I got there, they took one look at my initials and, instead, put me in the local coconut-shy and chucked balls at me...bastards...
Worzel: My, my, my, Aunt Sally! That’s a tale and a quarter-half as I’ve ever heard...I’ll be bum-squizzled...
Aunt Sally: Bum-squizzled! Bum-squizzled! Have you been selling your arse again, you cretinous bag of straw...
[Even though they are well used to it by now, Sue and John roll their eyes at another unedifying spectacle of Worzel and Aunt Sally bickering. As John said on numerous occasions, they make Itchy and Scratchy look like Androclus and the Lion, after they have shared a bong in a hippy commune.]
John: Oh, for Pete’s sake you two...Why don’t you give over...Just read your letter, Worzel – by the postmark, it’s from Australia!
Worzel: Huh...I hope it’s not from that Craig Thomson bloke, inviting me to be present at his wife’s delivery instead of him, cos I aren’t that stupid...But, whoever it’s from, they better not expect an answer, cos old Worzel here isn’t into any of those carefully prepared scripted remarks...heh...heh...
[John, Sue and Aunt Sally stare at Worzel and their heads begin to nod bizarrely. As Rupie the fauz-Crowman has hidden his Reading Head, Worzel asks Sue to read it for him. After listening to Sue read the letter aloud, Worzel yelps with delight.]
Worzel: Bozzy McCoo!!! It’s from Cousin Cobber!!! So, he’s got some long-service-leave from his paddock at Woop Woop Wheatfarm and he wants me to come out and share a few Violent Crumble Bars and ginger beers with him...Whaddya think, Aunt Sally – wanna come? We can get into one of those coalickey thingies and live happily ever after in Cousin Cobber’s barn...
[True to form, Aunt Sally has less intention of marrying this decrepit heap of straw than she has of donning a burqa and offering herself up for target practice for an elite Taliban stone-the-infidel squad. However, at the thought of a couple of free Violent Crumble Bars, her mouth begins to water.]
Aunt Sally (fluttering her eye-lids): Emm...Worzel...I’m not saying I will or I won’t marry you...but, Australia is a long way away...so, I’ll just come with you to make sure you find your way...
Worzel: Righto, Aunt Sally...let’s go and find the boat Saucy Nancy’s the figurehead of – that’ll take us to Australia quicker than you can shake shit off a shovel, that will...
[Aunt Sally gives Worzel one of her looks, as she can’t abide his foul language. Then they head off to the pier, leaving Sue and John again amazed at how stupid Worzel is, by even entertaining the thought of going to Australia with Aunt Sally.
Suddenly, however, Sue and John hear the fluttering of a dove’s wings in the loft above, as it takes off through a hole in the old barn’s roof. “Hmmm...”, John says to himself, “I think The Crowman is going to hear about this”.
Anyway, Worzel and Aunt Sally sail off in Saucy Nancy’s boat, but the voyage is definitely one to forget. Not only were Worzel and Aunt Sally bickering non-stop, but Saucy Nancy and Aunt Sally were carrying on like two cats that had their tails tied together.
So, when they reached Australia, Saucy Nancy was glad to get some peace and quiet whilst Worzel and Aunt Sally saunter off in the direction of Woop Woop to see Cousin Cobber.
They walk for ages, and approaching at last the outskirts of Woop Woop, they keep their eyes peeled for any signs of Cousin Cobber waving to them, brandished bars of Violent Crumble and bottles of fizzy ginger beer. However, as they pass a field, chockers with a flock of feasting galahs, plus an empty scarecrow frame, they notice a prone figure lying close-by.]
Worzel: Why, by all that’s evil in my Tony Abbott Head, I believe that’s Cousin Cobber!
[Worzel and Aunt Sally amble over and can’t believe their eyes. There are empty ginger beer bottles and Violent Crumble wrappers strewn everywhere – and Cousin Cobber is snoring away, obviously having a siesta after his Bacchus-like feast.]
Aunt Sally (screaming): The bastard’s eaten all the chockies and drank all the ginger beer! But, what’s worse – look at the state of the environment! It would make Bhopal and Chernobyl look like Mrs Braithwaite’s well-tended flower-beds back at Scatterbrook Farm! As a card-carrying greenie, I’m not stopping around here for one minute longer!
[Aunt Sally turns on her heel and strikes out in the direction of Woop Woop’s main street.]
Worzel: But...but...but...Aunt Sally – don’t leave me...I thought we was to get married here in Australia?
Aunt Sally: Huh...with relatives like your freak Cousin Cobber here, there’s no way I’m going to risk sharing your crappy gene-pool, Worzel Gummidge...I’m off to find myself a proper husband...
[So after a few minutes walking, Aunt Sally reaches the main street of Woop Woop, and notices a sign on one of the buildings – “Antique Figure Museum”. “Hmmm...”, thinks Aunt Sally to herself, “I love aunty-queues – maybe I’ll get a husband in here who’ll provide me for the rest of my life with lots of Violent Crumble Bars and cups of tea and slices of cake...” She walks inside, announces her intentions to all the exhibits, and starts to survey all the figures on display. The nearest one, resplendent in his tutu and fishnet stockings is Dolly Clothes-Peg Downer.]
Dolly: Oh...pick me...pick me, Aunt Sally...I know I’m a bit rusty, but experience has gotta count for something...
Aunt Sally (sniffing in derision): Huh...Mate, I may be a refugee from a caring and sharing greenie commune, but there’s no way I’m going to get hitched to someone who’s gonna be pinching my knickers to wear...
[Aunt Sally passes on and the next exhibit is Barnaby “Dafthead” Joyce.]
Dafthead: Whadda ‘bout me, Aunt Sally...If you’re looking for a husband, you know you can count on me...
Aunt Sally: Huh...You gotta be kidding, Dafthead – I wouldn’t be seen dead with a nincompoop like you...Why, compared to you, the Count in Sesame Street looks like Albert Bloody Einstein...
[Aunt Sally again moves along, and comes across Joe “Sergeant Beetroot” Hockey.]
Aunt Sally: Hi Beetroot – I see you’re still red-faced after your great big black holes debacles...heh...heh...
Beetroot: Oh, hi Aunt Sally...If you marry me, I’ll make sure you get a nice crisp beetroot for your tea every day – whaddya say?
Aunt Sally: A beetroot! A measly, worm-eaten beetroot! Why, my man, when I get married, I’ll be stuffing my face with cakes, and meringues, and trifle, and violent Crumble Bars, and lamingtons, and TimTams...and...
Beetroot: Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Aunt Sally...Y’see, all those goodies will be for me – I’ve got my figure to think of, y’know...
[Just then, and just in time to save Beetroot from a physical and verbal onslaught from Aunt Sally that would make the pillages of Eric the Red look like a Hagar the Horrible sleep-in, Worzel sticks his head around the front door, again begging Aunt Sally to marry him. However, at this point, Aunt Sally realises, in the next exhibit, that she has finally found the man of her dreams – surely this is the one she has been searching for...
On a pedestal, claiming pride of place amongst the other exhibits in the Antique Figures Museum is the imposing spectacle of Ned Kelly’s helmet and body armour.]
Ned: Ah...Begorrah! There you are, Aunt Sally...me morning star...the apple of me eye...the one I wrote me Jerilderie Love Letter to...Just come along with me, Aunt Sally, and don’t be waylaid by this parcel of big, fat, ugly, fat-necked, wombat-headed, big-bellied, magpie-legged, narrow-hipped, splay-footed sons of you-know-what’s...Sure, they’ve only got heads like turnips...Tell ‘em they may as well be mustering mosquitoes and boiling them down for their fat than to think they can get one over me in winning your hand...Let us be Moving Forward!
[By this stage of Ned’s wooing of her, Aunt Sally’s eyes are fluttering so much, her false eye-lashes are just about to fly off. Gushing that she will surely go into one of those coalickies with him, Aunt Sally throws her arms around Ned and they quickly exit the museum, ready to start married life together. In their haste on their way out, they nearly knock over The Crowman, who has made a sudden and surprise appearance, with his arm around a very dejected Worzel.]
The Crowman: Look, Worzel, you’ll have to stop building your hopes up, thinking Aunt Sally is going to marry you...It’s never going to happen...Now, you’re lucky one of my doves overheard your silly plan and came to tell me...So, take that horrible Tony Abbott Head off and put on your usual one that I’ve brought with me...We need to go home, so that you can start scaring the rooks in Ten Acre Field again...
Worzel (snivelling): Just as you say, your eminence...But, whatever you do, don’t allow me to put that nasty Tony Abbottt Head on ever again...
The Crowman: Oh, I won’t allow that to happen, Worzel...In fact, I’m going to make sure it can’t happen again, as I’m going to leave it here as an exhibit in this museum...
Worzel: What are you going to call the head, your magnificence?
The Crowman: Oh, I think we’ll put a sign on it saying it’s a Dick Head, Worzel...Now, let’s go home...
