Wake in Fright Quotes

'Doc' Tydon: Shall I satisfy your curiosity? I'm a doctor of medicine, and a tramp by temperament. I'm also an alcoholic. My disease prevented me from practicing in Sydney. But out here it's scarcely noticeable. Certainly doesn't stop people from coming to see me. I charge no fees because I'm not interested in money. Anyway, I'm unreliable. But I'm accepted socially because I'm an educated man... or character. I get my food from my friends... my requirements in beer. Which, with some measure of self-control, is the only alcohol I allow myself.

John Grant: And you get along without money altogether.

'Doc' Tydon: It's possible to live forever in The Yabba without money. As you probably noticed, some of the natives are very... hospitable. Take Janette, for instance. Now, there's a very interesting biological case. If she were a man, she'd be in jail for rape.

Dick: [referring to John Grant] What's the matter with him? He'd rather talk to a woman than drink?

Tim Hynes: Schoolteacher.

Dick: Oh.

'Doc' Tydon: All the little devils are proud of hell.

John Grant: You mean... you don't think The Yabba is the greatest little place on Earth?

'Doc' Tydon: Could be worse.

John Grant: How?

'Doc' Tydon: [drinking] Supply of beer could run out.

Tim Hynes: [John has just walked into a bar] New to The Yabba?

John Grant: New to The Yabba.

Tim Hynes: You like the old place?

John Grant: No, I think it's bloody awful!

Tim Hynes: You don't like The Yabba?

John Grant: No.

Tim Hynes: [pauses] Will you have a drink?

John Grant: No, I'm toying with this one, thanks.

Tim Hynes: Well, drink it down. I'll buy you another.

John Grant: Look, I'm flat broke and I can't afford to drink!

Tim Hynes: [sternly] What's that got to do with it, man? I said I'd buy you one! You don't have to buy me one! Now drink it down!

[to bartender]

Tim Hynes: Two middies! Don't forget the tomato juice!

[a stranger has just given John a ride in his jeep and dropped him off at a bar]

John Grant: [grabbing his suitcase] Alright, thanks a lot.

Van Driver: Come and have a drink, mate.

John Grant: No thanks.

Van Driver: Come on, have a drink!

John Grant: [wearily] No, I'm just not at the moment...

Van Driver: It'll only take a minute. Come on, come and have a drink!

John Grant: [angrily] Look mate, I've given up drinking for a while.

Van Driver: What's wrong with you, you bastard? Why don't you come and drink with me? I've just brought you fifty miles in the heat and dust, and you won't drink with me! What's wrong with you?

John Grant: What's the matter with you people, huh? You... sponge on you, you, burn your house down, murder your wife, rape your child, that's all right! Not have a drink with you, not have a... flaming bloody drink with you, that's a criminal offence, that's the... end of the bloody world!

[storms off]

Van Driver: Yer mad, yer bastard!

John Grant: And what do you do?

'Doc' Tydon: I drink.

John Grant: Why did you say that?

'Doc' Tydon: Say what?

John Grant: About them being proud of hell.

'Doc' Tydon: Discontent is the luxury of the well-to-do. If you've got to live here, you might as well like it. Why don't you like Crawford?

John Grant: Jock?

'Doc' Tydon: The touch of his hairy hand offended you.

John Grant: I'm bored with it. The aggressive hospitality, the arrogance of stupid people who insist you should be as stupid as they are.

'Doc' Tydon: It's death to farm out here. It's worse than death in the mines. You want them to sing opera as well?

John Grant: A middy please, Charlie.

[Charlie pours him a glass with a large head of foam]

John Grant: Having one yourself?

Charlie: Yeah.

[drinks the rest of his glass, and pours himself another with less foam]

Charlie: You've, uh... got snakes in yer pocket, have you?

John Grant: [chuckles, and puts some coins on the counter]

[first lines]

John Grant: [checks his watch] Alright, off you go.

[children clamour as they leave the classroom]

Young Girl: Happy Christmas, teacher!

Dave: Happy new year.

John Grant: Thank you, Dave.

Sam: Give my love to your girlfriend in Sydney, sir.

John Grant: I'll do that, Sam, thank you.

Chris: Have a happy holiday, sir.

John Grant: [shakes his hand] And you, Chris. Thank you. Enjoy yourself.

Lynn: [puts a geode wrapped in paper on John's desk] For your collection, sir.

John Grant: Thank you very much, Lynn. Bye-bye.

Older Boy: Well, I'll see you next year, mate.

John Grant: [chuckles and puts his head in his hands]

John Grant: I studied history and literature. And what can you do with that if your parents are nobody and you have no money? Oh, I know I can teach, but... I'd really like to get to England. Well, this is bad enough, but even Sydney, it's...

[sighs]

John Grant: I'd really like to get to England.

Janette Hynes: What would you do there?

John Grant: Journalism.

Janette Hynes: D'you have a girl?

John Grant: Yes, in Sydney.

Janette Hynes: What's her name?

John Grant: Robyn.

Janette Hynes: Robyn. What's she like?

[John shows her the photo of Robyn in his wallet. She stares at the photo, then at John, then at the photo again]

Janette Hynes: Robyn. Would you take her to England with you?

John Grant: [slightly uncomfortably] Yes. Yes.

[last lines]

John Grant: Hello, Charlie.

Charlie: Did you have a good holiday?

John Grant: [nods] The best.

Charlie: Will you be wanting your room when you come back?

John Grant: Where else would I stay? But if you get a... flood of tourists or anything, Charlie, I can always stay in the schoolhouse.

[train horn blows]

Charlie: See you in six weeks, huh?

John Grant: Not if I can rob a bank.

Charlie: Sure, Ned Kelly.

[John has won a large sum of money, but realizes he is still a teacher]

John Grant: [to himself] One thousand dollars. Just... just one more spin... and you're out of it. Out of teaching...

[gathers up his winnings]

John Grant: Out of Tiboonda.

[returns to the Two-up school]

Tim Hynes: [humming happily to himself] Over the teeth and 'round the gums, look out belly, here it comes!

[laughs, and brings out two beers for himself and John]

Tim Hynes: Just a little quickie before lunch.

Janette Hynes: Lunch is ready *now*, daddy.

Tim Hynes: I know. But firstly, John and I must have an aperitif!

[laughs]

Atkins: [driving John to a hotel] New to The Yabba?

John Grant: Yes.

Atkins: Stayin' long?

John Grant: No, just tonight.

Atkins: Aw, that's hard luck. Ought to see a bit more of The Yabba than that.

John Grant: You think it's worth seeing?

Atkins: [chuckles] It's the best place in Australia! Everybody likes The Yabba!

John Grant: Why?

Atkins: Well, it's... friendly place. Nobody worries who you are or... where you come from. You're a good bloke, you're alright. Y'know what I mean?

Jock Crawford: [taking John to another bar] C'mon, the beer's real good here.

John Grant: Oh, no, Jock, no. I'll pass out if I don't eat soon.

Jock Crawford: [leaning against a poster advertising beer] Well, it's easy to see you're not a Yabba Man.

John Grant: A Yabba Man... a Yabba Man! *You're* the Yabba Man, Jock!

[places Crawford's hand over the beer on the poster]

John Grant: The Bundanyabba Man!

[laughs]

Jock Crawford: Alright, alright. C'mon, I'll show you where you can get a real good steak.

John Grant: Why do you stay in Bundanyabba?

[Janette doesn't answer]

John Grant: No, I'm surprised, I mean, you're... pretty, and...

Janette Hynes: And there's a shortage of pretty girls in this town?

John Grant: [grabs some leaves from a tree and smells them] Ah, it's beautiful. Smell that: peppercorn.

[holds the leaves for Janette, who smells them]

John Grant: Is it because of your father?

[Janette doesn't answer]

John Grant: Sorry.

[begins gazing at the moon while Janette looks longingly at him]

John Grant: "The moonlight, like snow upon the desert's dusty face".

John Grant: Police have much to do in Bundanyabba?

Jock Crawford: Nah. No, not really. We sort of... we just sort of keep an eye on things. Honestest little town in Australia this is, mate. But mind you, there re not too many game enough to try anything around here. You see, we're so isolated, there's nowhere to go. We get 'em, and quick.

John Grant: Sounds like an easy life.

Jock Crawford: Yeah, not bad. 'Course, we do have a few suicides.

John Grant: Yeah?

Jock Crawford: Yeah. Yeah, they reckon it's the heat. Me? Ha, ha... I like the heat!

John Grant: Yeah, it's one way of getting out of town.

Jock Crawford: What is?

John Grant: Killing yourself.

Jock Crawford: 'Ay, that's good! I like a bloke with a sense o' humour!

[laughs]

Jock Crawford: Oh, killing yourself.

'Doc' Tydon: If I were ever to marry, Janette's the sort of girl I'd like to marry. She likes sex. She likes experiment and, er, she likes variety. We thought about getting married once, but neither of us could live with one person for very long. Still, she visits me from time to time. When I want her. And when she gets bored, with them. Beer?

[hands John a bottle, who drinks]

'Doc' Tydon: What's wrong with a woman taking a man because she feels like it?

John Grant: I really don't know.

'Doc' Tydon: Because there's nothing wrong with it. Sex is just like eating: it's a thing you do because you have to. Not 'cause you want to, but most people are afraid of it. You seem offended by my little discussion of Janette. In the circumstances, I thought you'd be interested.

John Grant: Well, I'm not.

'Doc' Tydon: You're probably a little puritan, like the rest of these people. They think Janette's a slut... the women who'd like to act like her, and the men she has given a tumble to. Janette and I are alike. We break the rules. But we know more about ourselves than most people.

[Crawford is visiting John in hospital after the latter has tried to kill himself]

Jock Crawford: I, uh, hate to trouble you, John, but rather than tire you, I thought I'd write down what had happened and you could sign it, okay?

[reads a statement]

Jock Crawford: "The gunshot wound to my head was the result of an accident. I was visiting my friend, Clarence F. Tydon, after a hunting trip. I dropped my .22 rifle at the floor of his kitchen butt first, believing it to be unloaded. It exploded, and that's all I remember." That'll be about it, wouldn't it? Here.

[hands a pen to John, who signs the statement]

Jock Crawford: [after showing him the Two-up school] D'you get the idea now, Jack?

John Grant: Well, you just bet on whether the pennies come down heads or tails.

Jock Crawford: Yeah, that's right.

John Grant: You think this crowd will be at each other's throats when they settle?

Jock Crawford: Ah, there's hardly a fight. Each man knows what's coming to him, he just goes and gets it.

Jock Crawford: [on the current Two-up spinner] Yeah, Charlie always goes for eight hundred or bust. You gotta throw four heads in a row to do it, too.

John Grant: And what does he do with the winnings?

Jock Crawford: Well, nothing.

Jock Crawford: [watching John drink a beer] Better?

John Grant: Yes, better. Thanks, mate.

Jock Crawford: Have another one!

John Grant: Oh... no, I don't really like to.

Jock Crawford: One more beer, thanks, Joyce.

[Joyce pours John another beer]

John Grant: [nervously] Jock, you damn near saved my life just now, how 'bout... completing the job by giving me a cigarette, huh?

[Crawford hands him one]

John Grant: Thanks.

Jock Crawford: [lights the cigarette] I thought you were pulling out of The Yabba on Saturday.

John Grant: Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, I was.

Jock Crawford: What went wrong?

John Grant: Oh, I got involved.

Jock Crawford: You, uh... you say you're a slave. What do you mean by that?

John Grant: You wouldn't know how our educational authorities get teachers for the outback?

Jock Crawford: Wouldn't have a clue, mate.

John Grant: Now, a new teacher has to post a bond for a thousand dollars. That thousand guarantees you'll serve out your contract wherever they send you.

Jock Crawford: Oh, well. I suppose they know what they're doing. You clever blokes never like to stop in the one spot long, do you?

John Grant: Depends on the place.

Jock Crawford: Heh, heh! Yeah, that's right. Well, never mind, Jack. You can always come to The Yabba for your 'olidays. Good luck!

[drinks]

John Grant: Yes, that's something to look forward to.

[the lights dim in the RSL club. Everyone except John stands up]

Jock Crawford: [to John] Get up, get up.

[John stands up to face ANZAC-themed murals and fixtures]

RSL Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen... let us pay a tribute to our fallen comrades. "They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them".

Jock Crawford, RSL Patrons: We will remember them.

[moment of silence]

RSL Announcer: Lest we forget.

Jock Crawford, RSL Patrons: Lest we forget!

RSL Announcer: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

[lights come back on]

Pig Eyes: [pulls up the cover on his trailer] Hey, you! We're there!

John Grant: There?

[gets out and realises they've returned to The Yabba]

John Grant: You know... I thought you said you were going to Sydney.

Pig Eyes: Don't know why. You said "city", mate. Bundanyabba's a city, ain't it?

[John nods stressfully. The driver hands him his rifle]

Pig Eyes: Well, at least the trip cost you nothing.

Joe: [notices something and shoots at it] Fox.

[Joe, Dick and Doc shoot at the fox with no luck. John kills it with a single shot]

John Grant: Hey, I've hit him!

[begins running over to it]

Dick: 'Ay, John! Where you going?

John Grant: I hit him!

Dick: [shaking his head] It's no good skinning 'em, mate. They're all mangy out here!

[John, Doc, Dick and Joe are standing over some of the kangaroos they have shot]

Joe: Hey, you got her fair, eh, Doc?

Dick: Hey, Joe, take a look at this. It's a beauty.

Joe: Yeah.

Dick: He must be a seven-footer for sure!

Joe: Go on, Dick. We better cut up a few for the dogs, eh?

Keith, Bartender: [to a patron] Yeah, so I say to this mug, I said "You better get out. You're barred from the pub. Every time you come in here, you put on trouble." And then, all of a sudden, he turned it on. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and I hit him.

[feels his hand]

Keith, Bartender: Done the knuckle in. Knuckle's squished up back here. Yeah, it's been six weeks. All these mugs I get in here. They want to try you out. They all come from far and wide to try you out.