Dustin developed his hyper-masculinity in school – he played first’s footy, he sprouted bum fluff early and got his licence before everyone else because he was held back a year for being thicker than a giant steer’s cattle prod. 

After work, Dustin stares at the dregs of his apprentice’s Corona bottle, “it’s bad enough you drink Mexican piss, at least finish it”. His apprentice gags down the last of the warm saliva-infused alcoholic waste. Dustin turns back to his pint of Carlton Draught and mutters some blokey words at the bar-chick that he has been visually rim-jobbing for the past hour, “should bloody take the lad out back and flog him for that, weak little prick”.

Dustin gives his apprentice a lift home, but still refuses to let the Corona incident go. “Disgraceful, blokes finish their beers, son, you heard me?” The apprentice nods politely, while Dustin trails off into other manly tangents, “so, you getting your dick wet, boy? When I was your age they called me Little Jack Horner, ‘cos I had me thumb in loads of pies, accurate nickname, except I was huge”.

His apprentice is feeling uncomfortable, but Dustin continues, “yeh, I was swimming in it, still am mind you, but back then, I was fending gash off with a stick, probably because I was the footy captain, you play sport you little pencil-dick?”

Desperate to get the conversation away from Dustin’s dirty thumbs, he replies, “Yeh played state soccer, aye”. Dustin almost drives his ute off the road, “fucken, soccer?” Dustin relies on some breathing exercises he was forced to learn after he padlocked a sparky in the port-a-loo for bringing a quinoa salad to smoko – an incident he maintains was in the public interest.

Dustin internally pages his alter ego, Dr King Dick, he needs to teach this apprentice a thing or two about being staunch. “You’re coming back for some proper beer and a few cones… bloody soccer, I should flog you, men don’t go around diving like that, oright?”

Dustin packs his apprentice a sizeable cone and sparks it up for him, “given you play soccer, I’m sure you know how to suck on something long and hard hu hu hu”. The burning plant matter fills the apprentice’s lungs and he proceeds to cough his ring up. Dustin laughs hysterically while he records the footage.

The poor kid is looking noticeably ill, while Dustin yammers on about Big Day Out 2010, where he took a gram of “goey” and showed all the “weak pricks” how an old warhorse throws down. Suddenly, Dustin’s mood turns once again to aggressive masculinity, “there’s still some left in the cone, fucking finish it, disgraceful”.

His apprentice erupts into a vom-cano of regret and harassment. Dustin stands over him, “fucking, finish that yak, snowflake, we’re going to the skimpy’s to de-soccer ya”.


Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?

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