Kwinana Motorplex

Mr Kwinana Motorplex

Bruce pours water into a bowl of Fruit Loops and slurps his breakfast while watching the V8 Supercars on Foxtel. To Bruce’s disgust, a Ford Supercar takes out the race.

“I’ve always said son, God made Fords to keep dick heads out of Holdens ha ha”. Bruce’s son cracks a red cordial stained smile and giggles. “That’s me boy”. Bruce lazily tries to get a mystery stain off his HRT jacket. “Fark it, she’ll be right”.

Bruce calls in a sickie so he can adequately prepare for Whoop Ass Wednesday. Some cocky new bloke at work has thrown down the gauntlet and made a passing comment that his XR8 would “chop” Bruce’s “sluggish” Club Sport.

Bruce has been stewing in a pot of his own pride and rage ever since the comment was made. Bruce believed he had two options: key the pelican’s car or challenge him to a Whoop Ass Wednesday showdown. Jokes on his workmate though, Bruce plans to key the XR8 in any event. “Only way he’ll learn, son”.

Bruce fills up his tank with premium petrol and fangs it to O’Connor. The industrial backdrop and quiet streets make for the perfect training ground for Bruce. He picks up Daryl on his way there.

Bruce “burns rubber” all the way to the pub for a few domestic beers for the event. “Ignore school zones mate, I’m teaching the kids all they need to know about V8s”. Daryl mumbles some incoherent rubbish. Bruce continues, “if you’re not thrashing a V8, then you’re gonna be late, mate”.

He is now prepared for Whoop Ass Wednesday and presents to the Motorplex in an excited state. It’s a chance to humiliate a Ford in the big arena. A drag race to settle which man has the most tentative grip on their own masculinity.

Proceedings are off to a rough start when Bruce goes too hard on the initial burnout to warm the car’s tyres up. Losing a fair bit of control and coming dangerously close to disqualification. He can hear the laughs of Ford fans from around the stadium.

When the light goes green, Bruce decides to redeem his burnout ability in the eyes of the howling mob. He’s so cocky his car can beat a Ford he isn’t even concerned about losing valuable seconds in the race.

Alas, this isn’t the Fast and the Furious scene he imagined. Not only did the Ford get off to a flying start, Bruce manages to lose control once again and hit the barrier just in front of the starting line. He flies into a bogan rage as the crowd now mercilessly boo him.

Bruce leaps out of his car, rips his shirt off and gives an open invitation to any Ford driving prick who wants to come down and have a piece of him – and judging by his flowing man gunt their are plenty of pieces to go around.

It’s a bold strategy but it’s the only play Bruce has left after being mechanically castrated by his own incompetence.

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