One man’s epic piece of shit is another man’s treasure. In that respect, an AU Ford Falcon is like the holy grail of the recently divorced father who just needs the wife’s lawyers to fuck off for a few weeks to get back into his zone.
Typically, the easiest way to own an AU Falcon is to get given it by your own father after he’s had a substantial win on the dogs. If you aren’t so fortunate you may have a cousin that no longer needs his after a crime spree or you may try your luck in the lottery of Gumtree car sales.
Be warned, however, anyone selling an AU Falcon on Scumtree is a battle-hardened warrior who has seen the exact level of depravity a human is willing to sink to acquire the keys to the chariot of the down-on-his-luck battler.
Should you join this exclusive club of Heinz Big Eaters you will have a vehicle for all occasions. It’s a showcase piece on any front yard of a Midland dwelling, it’s a handy bed & lounge for when you’ve drunk too much to drink driver and it really makes a statement when you pull in on Wednesday for your 7th Chicken Treat meal of the week.
For the more adventurous, it’s an excellent car to take to Bunnings because the interior of an AU doubles as a Stargate for any trailer-dodger to enter a parallel universe where you reckon anything will fit in the cunt.
The best thing is no one’s stopping you. One does not simply approach the owner of a shitbox AU in a parking lot unless they are looking to purchase a stolen DVD player or a small amount of drugs.
You will be left to your own devices to venture onto the roads with so much shit sticking out of your vehicle people will assume you are auditioning for a role in Mad Max.
Similarly, just as a road warrior in Mad Max, it will be your duty to reach Vahalla by running any Holden driver off the road. You don’t know exactly why you hate that brand but what you do know is you are willing to die for it.
The benefits of an AU Falcon don’t stop there. It’s one of the best contraceptives known to man. Sure, you may hook a trout while trawling Plenty o’ Fish but even she will expect a Sizzler dinner before flapping around in a car that smells like night shift knock-off at a Kalgoorlie front bar – and hey, you’re not made of Sizzler dinners.
Who has time for dating anyway, when you are crawling the streets for old Ab-King Pros and washing machines you can salvage some copper off.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?