As part of his anti-problem-gambling crusade, Andrew ‘Del Boy’ Wilkie manages a Centre for the treatment of gambling addicts, which is trialling his new, ‘BetaGorn Program’. This involves the addict being given a smart card with a $200 daily limit which, when exceeded, fails to activate the gaming machine.
The BetaGorn Cenre is located beside a petrol station and, on this night in particular, Del Boy, as evangelical as ever, walks across to the petrol-station shop, intending as usual to display his placard, spreading his anti-problem-gambling gospel. However, this evening, he notices Tony ‘Boycie’ Abbott standing outside the shop, dressed in his Lycra suit, rattling a collection tin, and shouting, “STOP THE MORTGAGE”, at the top of his voice.
They greet one another and exchange a few polite words.
Boycie: Here, Del Boy...do us a favour and hold on to my collection tin, while I go into the shop...I’m dying with thirst after my Pollie Peddle and want to get a can of coke without paying for it.
[Del Boy is a bit apprehensive about possibly being an accessory, but trusts Boycie enough to realise he wouldn’t do anything illegal. He accepts Boycie’s tin and watches interestingly as he enters the shop. However, if Boycie had taken the time to read and reflect on the words on Del Boy’s placard, they might have provided a source for some soul-searching: “Why do Only Fools and Horses Gamble?”]
Boycie has been inside for a while and, as Del Boy pounds the pavement outside, displaying his placard, he hears an almighty racket from within. He looks in the window and notices that Boycie is having a real barney with the shop assistant. Del Boy enters, intending to do a bit of peace-making.
Boycie (shouting): Now you look here, young lady...I’ve been on the Pollie Peddle for the last two months and I’m dying of thirst...I know I don’t have any money to pay for the can of coke, so why won’t you accept my double or quits offer?
Assistant: I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t do “double or quits” around here...if you don’t pay for the drink with money like everyone else, please put it back in the fridge...
[By this time, a queue of impatient customers, stretched out behind Boycie, is about to lynch him, so Del Boy comes to his rescue, pays for the drink and leads Boycie outside to cool off.]
Del Boy: Okay, Boycie...calm now?
Boycie: Yeah...bloody shiny-bummed bureaucrat in there...no sense of adventure, these young ‘uns...
Del Boy: Erm, Boycie...I couldn’t help noticing you offered a double or quits in there...you haven’t got a gambling problem, have you?
Boycie: Huh, so would you, Del Boy, if you had a big mortgage like I have and only a measly LOTO wage to service it...And not to mention the cost of buying new bikes and Lycra suits...and the Party is debiting me up-front to pay for my stupid maternity-leave scheme when you blokes see the light and put us into government...
Del Boy: Hmmmm...it looks like I might just have the ideal program, Boycie, to help you overcome your “double or quits” and other gambling addictions...
[Del Boy gives Boycie back his collection tin and leads him by the arm over to BetaGorn House, explaining to him how the program works. Inside, Del Boy pauses at the doors of two rooms. One is in silence and darkness and the other is full of vitality, with the whiz-bang sounds of well-patronised one-arm bandits emanating from within.]
Boycie: Righto, Del Boy...what’s the story with the two rooms?
Del Boy: Okay, Boycie, this is the deal...As you can see and hear, only one is in operation...we call it the PC – “Pre-Commitment” – Room...
Boycie: So it’s a bit like signing yourself in?
Del Boy: Yeah, a bit like that, Boycie...You see, when you enter here, we give you a Smart Card with a $200 limit, and if you use it up before the end of the day, you can’t go on the one-arm bandits for the rest of the day...
Boycie: And the dark, uninhabited room?
Del Boy: Yeah, we don’t use that room any more, Boycie...We call it the “Suckers’ Room” – it’s a throw-back to the bad old days when punters could go on the machines and spend everything they had – or didn’t have...Some people would even sell their best friends in there...
Boycie: Maybe you could open it again and I could pretend Malcolm Turnbull is my best friend...heh...heh...
[Del Boy ignores Boycie’s lame joke, and leads him into the PC Room. Inside, there is quite a collection of folk, including some celebrities. Amongst the latter are Adam Brandt, Bob Katter and Julia Gillard. Boycie and Del Boy pause beside Bob’s machine and, after he pulls the handle, he gets three crocodiles sitting on roofs, registering a 10-dolllar win. Bob gives a “yee-hah”, smacks his enormous hat against his thigh, and proceeds to give the handle another tug.
They move on to Julia’s machine, but she doesn’t seem to be having much luck with this particular pull – three large ear-lobes! She tries again, this time getting three gold stars for overseeing the best economy in the whole history of the universe. This nearly makes Boycie puke with envy, so he moves along, just in time to witness Adam Brandt getting up to go, having exhausted his $200 limit.]
Boycie (to himself): Jeeze, this is as boring as batshit...give me the Suckers’ Room any day...
[Boycie tells Del Boy he needs to spend a penny, and ducks out. However, on his way back, Boycie takes a detour into the Suckers’ Room, switches on the lights and plugs in one of the machines. As soon as it’s cranked up, Boycie takes a dollar coin out of his collection tin and inserts it. At the first pull, he gets three Dennis Shanahans, and the machine pays out $10.]
Boycie (to himself): You beaudy! At this rate, by the end of the night, I’ll have made a fair dent in the old mortgage...hee...hee...
[Boycie sticks in another dollar and when the drums stop rolling, he is delighted to see the smirking boat-races of three Peter Costellos, which also pays out $10.]
Boycie: Well, I suppose beggars can’t be choosers...heh...heh...
[Boycie continues to ply the machine with dollar coins, but his initial good fortune appears to have deserted him. He gets a motley assortment of Chris Uhlmanns, Janet Albrechtsens, Andrew Bolts, Piers Akermans, Melissa Clarkes, etc, etc, etc, ad nauseam...but never the three in a row to guarantee a payout. By this stage, he has not only exhausted his earlier winnings but is down to the last dollar coin in his collection tin. He gives it a kiss, blesses it, puts it in the slot and pulls the handle. As the first drum comes to a halt, the stern face of Mark Riley looks back at him. The same with the second one. “One more of that bastard Riley – you can do it – come on you good thing!” However, when the third drum comes to a shuddering halt, the transubstantiating tri-fecta is far from complete.]
Boycie: Bloody Nicola Roxon!! THAT’S BULLSHIT!!!!
[Boycie’s shattered hopes result in him entering a type of catatonic state, staring blankly at the screen, and nodding like a metronomic toy.
Meanwhile, Del Boy has noticed Boycie’s prolonged absence. He exits the PC Room and sees the light on in the Suckers’ Room. He flings open the door, witnessing Boycie in his trance-like state, nodding idiotically at the machine.]
Del Boy (yelling): Boycie!! Come out of there at once!! You must have a serious problem if you are in the Suckers’ Room all on your own!!
[Del Boy’s yelling brings Boycie back to earth and he groggily shuffles to the door, just in time to see Rob Oakeshott, Tony Windsor and Tony Crook walking along the corridor towards them.]
Boycie: Wow! The Three Amigos! By my reckoning, Del Boy, for your BetaGorn Program to get up and running, you need the support of at least one of them...How do you think it will go, Del Boy?
Del Boy: Not sure at this moment in time, Boycie...We’ll just have to see how things pan out in the discussions...
Boycie: And if one of them goes your way?
Del Boy: Well, for you, Boycie, that’ll mean shit really happens...heh...heh...
Boycie: Erm, by the way, Del Boy...in the Suckers’ Room I lost all the money I collected in my STOP THE MORTGAGE tin...you wouldn’t like to do a double or quits, would you...
Del Boy: [Sigh]...you’re incorrigible, Boycie old son...