Weird Genes Lockie Leonard

# Worlds away from anyone

# They were burning themselves out in the sun

# Worlds away from anyone

# They were burning themselves out in the sun

# There was just enough to get that ball away

# Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

# Ooh, ooh, ooh

# Ooh, ooh, ooh... #

It wasn't easy being a Leonard.

I mean, it was weird enough being 13

and having hormones play footy with your brain,

without your family adding to the weirdness.

Then, on top of everything,

there was the total train-wreck with my first ever girlfriend.

Yep, only one thing to do.

Hibernate for the next millennium.

Sure, after locking myself in my room for five days in a row,

things started to get a bit pongy, and Philip broke out in a rash.

Remember that dead eel I found

and I performed an autopsy on it, and I left its guts

in the laundry by mistake, and Mum found it a week later?

It stinks worse than that.

But at least you know what causes your own smell. Sweaty socks,

dirty jocks, mouldy boardies, Mum's cheese broccoli.

HE FARTS

Yep, all good. Reassuring.

Unlike the stink I'd caused over Vicki Streeton.

The hottest girl at school, the girl whose kiss tasted

like vanilla ice cream, and who smelled like strawberry topping.

Definitely the deluxe model, kitten.

An absolutely A1, top-of-the-range Streeton, fully guaranteed.

Just when we'd finally become an item, a couple,

the envy of the school, we'd hit the headlines.

I was dumped.

Must have been some kind of a record.

And the award for the shortest ever relationship

in the history of Angelus goes to...

..Lockie Leonard!

APPLAUSE

Yeah, I'd botched it, and all because of some mirage in a wetsuit.

I didn't know where she came from, where she lived.

I didn't even know her name. She was a total mystery.

All I knew was...she could surf.

Yeah, only one thing for it.

Hibernate. At least until I'd passed the confused and embarrassed stage.

One problem though. I'd forgotten I was a Leonard.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

Lockie? >

We've got your favourite takeaway.

FAN WHIRRS

Spag bol with extra-special tangy tomato sauce.

But you'll have to come out and get it.

And if you're quick I'll throw in one of my best poems,

Clancy Of The Overflow!

Always works in a crisis.

< Ask me again in a year.

Jeez, he must be sick. >

Aw...he's become a health hazard, Sarge.

Right. Philip, you grab your sweaty.

Mum, you grab his board.

I will back out Frieda. It is time for Operation Lockie Leverage.

HE SCREAMS

Dad's totally lost it this time. Here I am, being towed by Frieda.

Leonard's in the car, and me on full display to the whole town.

Could things get any worse?

And, instead of heading to the surf, Sarge decides to take a shortcut.

Oh no! Any place but this.

We've got your normal, loveable, likeable, friendly, charming...

Lockie! Looks like Vicki's filming an ad.

-Do you want to stay and watch?

-Yeah, like that's gonna improve my day.

Do a deal for you.

Family cars, family deals, so come on down to Big Barry Streeton's.

Maybe we could be in it, like extras, buying cars.

I could be on TV.

Does Lisa have a television?

Burn rubber, Sarge. I can hear the surf calling.

Egg's there. He's watching.

Egg? No way.

This was the last place Egg would want to be.

Mental note... Find out why Egg's behaving so strangely.

Hey, you! James Dean! Get out of there! I've told you before.

I hoped Egg's eviction from Big Barry Streeton's

might create a big enough diversion so we could slip away unnoticed.

Aargh!

Please, God, sent me an earthquake.

About 9.5 on the Richter scale should do it.

Sarge, unless we're moving in five seconds,

I swear I'm filing for adoption.

Right you are, son.

ENGINE SPLUTTERS

Hey, I am walking here. I said I'm walking here!

Oh, could the day get any worse?

ENGINE SPLUTTERS

'Aargh!'

By the time half the town had push-started Frieda down the main street,

we made it to the beach,

and the surf started to work its magic.

I decided it was impossible being a Leonard.

I know they mean well, but is it too much to ask

that we slip under the normal radar just once in a while?

And then, just when I figured out how normal we weren't...

-How was the surf, mate?

-Lightning, Sarge.

Champion.

..Philip went and raised the bar even higher.

You've got to teach me how to kiss.

I've decided to take my relationship with Lis to the next level.

What relationship, Philip? She's 23, you're ten. She's...

2.3 times my age, correct.

But when I'm 17 and she's 30 she'll only be 1.7 times older.

Time is on my side.

Yeah, well, while you've got your calculator out, Mr Maths Genius,

you're also a whole lot shorter.

Good point. I'll make a note.

"Be taller..."

So you'll teach me?

Philip, I've had one relationship,

with Vicki, and that lasted six hours, 43 minutes...

18 seconds, I know. The whole town does.

But at least you locked lips.

Were they open or closed?

Someone said I should practise with an orange. Is that a good idea?

It had to be genetic.

Weirdness passed down the family tree.

I bet Egg never had these problems.

He was an only child.

He never had a brother to drive him nuts.

Or experience the trauma of a Leonard family outing.

Support your blue light discos. Thank you.

Support Lisa's blue light disco.

I suppose it was too much to hope for.

An earthquake outside a church.

OK, maybe I'd settle for a plague of locusts.

Here, Lockie, I'll get you to come in close. For the parish gazette.

All right. Here we go. Philip?

Ready?

Oh, wait, wait. Vicki. You too.

Good publicity.

Now you're a TV star. OK, excellent.

Put your arm around her, Lockie.

-OK. So, when's your ad gonna be on the telly?

-Never, I hope.

So how tall do you think you are, Lisa?

160 centimetres.

Here we go. Everybody smile.

Thanks. Good.

We can stop smiling now?

One thing I can always count on. Mum wasn't into church.

So when she came to pick us up, she'd always be in a hurry to leave.

I promise I will take you apart, nut by nut,

bolt by a bolt, screw by screw, and sell you off for paperweights.

Time you traded this old girl in, eh, Mrs Leonard?

Perfect timing with my anniversary sale. What do you say, son?

Hm?

Meanwhile, Egg phoned. Wanted to meet me at his favourite spot.

One day, the Leonard family weirdness genes are gonna kick in.

Nothing surer.

And I'm going mutate into a total nutcase.

Give it a rest. Banging on about your family all morning.

Whoa, what's up with you?

Why doesn't your mum come to church?

Cos she's not religious.

What does that have to do with anything?

Want to know why my mum doesn't go?

I'm simply asking what you think of my sculptures.

I don't have an opinion.

Well, how can you not have an opinion?

That's what sculptures do, they evoke opinion.

Just like my sermons, but you never offer me an opinion when I ask.

You want my opinion? This sucks!

At least your parents still love each other.

I suspected things weren't quite right at Egg's place,

but I never knew they were this bad.

Make mental note... Strike previous mental note.

No need to ask Egg why he's behaving so strangely.

The drummer from Goliath has a car like that.

That car's gone some even when it's standing still.

Is that why you sit in it?

To get away from the fights?

Some days, I reckon Mum and Rev only stay together because of me.

If I wasn't around, I'm sure they'd get a divorce.

'Suddenly, my problems didn't seem so big any more.'

ENGINE REVS

Yeah, that's it, keep it steady.

Yeah, good on you, love. Keep it steady.

ENGINE CONTINUES TO REV

Whoa, ease off.

< Ease off, ease off, ease off!

ENGINE SPLUTTERS AND DIES

You flooded it.

I've not flooded it, Sarge. It's old, it's tired,

it's worn out and we need to get rid of it.

It's a piece of Leonard family history!

Well, I don't give a noodle about family history, Sarge.

Mr Streeton has made us a perfectly good offer.

Mr Streeton...

It was the strangest sound I'd ever heard, Mum and the Sarge having an argument.

I just want a car that starts when I turn the key, >

doesn't leak when it rains >

and doesn't smell like Lockie's old socks! >

DOOR SLAMS

Now I understood Egg's car thing.

Don't want to be here, got to escape.

Turn on some music.

Urgh!

Think of something else.

Something nice. Something like...

..vanilla ice cream. Perfect.

Rules of the break-up are... you will not speak to Vicki.

You will not sit beside her in class.

You will not stand in the same queue at lunchtime, and you will never,

ever dream about her.

Are we clear, Beansprouts?

NEEDLE SCRATCHES

OK, something that doesn't involve divorce.

Yes!

No complications of the family kind here. Oh, and, man, could she surf.

Should I practise with skin on or skin off?

Philip, I'm busy here. Go away!

Doing what?

Fine, skin off.

Gentler on the lips.

Why couldn't anything be simple?

Mum and Sarge could keep Frieda and buy another car.

And Egg could have his Mum and the Rev back the way they were.

(SHOUTING): You didn't have an opinion so I'll assume it's no good.

Yeah, just like my sermons! Rubbish!

OK, so maybe Egg's problems couldn't be fixed that easily.

That's what sculptors do, they evoke an opinion.

Unlike Philip, who was ready to tackle his

with a bag of oranges and a calculator.

TINS CLANG

Shady-looking character we've got here, constable.

< Hang on.

Looks like my Philip, only taller.

Just dropped in on my way home.

You've um... You've grown a bit there, son.

30cm to be exact, Sarge.

30cm. Outstanding!

Hello. Is this today's roster?

I see Lisa's due to finish in...

two minutes and 45 seconds to be exact.

Well, you'd be spot on there, son.

If only your old Sarge wasn't such a decent bloke

and hadn't given her an early mark so she could go to netball practice.

-Netball? But what if there's a crime or something important?

-Philip.

What have you been eating? What's that around your mouth?

It's new lip cream.

Citrus flavour, to stop them from cracking.

Not that there's any reason why they're cracked.

Sergeant!

It's that boy. The one that dresses in black.

I told him to stay away from that car.

What car would that be, Mr Streeton?

The one that's been stolen from my car yard.

While Mr Streeton chewed the Sarge's ear, I figured if I gave

Frieda a bit of a polish, maybe Mum wouldn't be so mad.

But it still looked like a clapped-out old wreck.

Hi.

CHOIR SINGS

The mystery girl, without the wetsuit.

What?

'Oh! Did I just say that out loud?'

-Are you all right?

-No! Yes!

Sorry. My head and my mouth seemed to have developed a short circuit.

Must be the fumes. Hi.

I was just heading out for a surf. I thought you might want to come.

'OK, got to be significant.

'Mystery girl found out where I lived, wants to go surfing,

'can only mean one thing.

'She likes me.'

-Maybe another day?

-No, wait.

I'll just get my stuff.

Lockie, we have to talk.

-Skin off, OK? Skin off.

-Egg nicked a car!

What?

The old one from the car yard. Mr Streeton said he sold it.

Are you coming or what?

'Say yes, go surfing.

'Say yes!

'Please, no! Don't make me wrestle with my conscience.

'Should I help Egg or go surfing with you-know-who?'

Sorry, can't.

Got to help out a mate.

Good decision.

Where do you think you're going?

Netball.

Yep. It's definitely missing.

That car is the only car in this entire yard that's not for sale.

You wanna know why?

Show him the photo, darl.

Because it's priceless.

That car is part of the family.

Don't worry, Mrs Streeton.

That car will stand out in Angelus like a train wreck.

There, there. The police will get it back. Won't you, Sergeant?

And, when you find the troublemaker I want him charged

to the full extent of the law.

Fair enough too.

Oh, one last thing.

I noticed the car has a manual gear shift.

None of your modern automatic nonsense.

The last of its kind.

Pretty unusual for a 13-year-old to be able to drive a manual,

wouldn't you say?

Feels like more than just CDs.

What's the deal? Where are you going?

I figured maybe Mum and Dad would be happier if I wasn't around.

'Man, this was heavy.

'Egg running away from home?

'What do I do? What do I say?

'What would Sarge do in a crisis?'

Clancy Of The Overflow, by Banjo Patterson.

Are you all right?

No, I'm not all right.

You can't leave. Where are you going to go?

What I am I gonna do for a best mate?

What if your mum and the Rev are going crazy with worry?

I know if I went missing,

Sarge would be gnawing his arms off by now.

It took all of five minutes to convince Egg

that running away from home was a dumb idea.

Sarge would have been proud of me.

You're right. You would be lost without me.

Ah... No.

Maybe you should hang out here for a while, till things cool off a bit.

-Your car's been nicked, and Streeton thinks you did it.

-What?

-Man...

-Wait here.

I'll be back in a while.

Where are you going?

'I'll not speak to Vicki Streeton.

'I'll not sit beside her in class,

'I will not stand in the same queue, and I promise I will never, ever...'

..dream about her.

What are you doing here?

I know I'm breaking all the break-up rules,

but I was hoping to talk to your dad.

He's not here.

He thinks Egg stole his car.

I've heard, ten times already. Could hit 20 by dinner.

Well, I know he didn't do it, OK?

So if you could just tell your dad that.

As if he'd listen to me.

He's too worried about his stupid sale and his stupid ad

to care about who really took the car.

I guess Vicki's family weren't as perfect as they seemed either.

Who is it, love? >

It's no-one.

Saturday. The ad.

It's on TV Saturday.

Nothing else for it.

If Mrs Streeton wouldn't listen, talk to someone who would.

The Sarge.

Are you sure this is a shortcut?

No. I just love golf.

Such an interesting game.

Maybe Sarge's mate upstairs was making up for the lack

of earthquakes and locust plagues, because, right there and then,

in the middle of the ninth tee...

It's the car! That's it, it's the car!

The perfect metal on wheels.

Aargh!

-It's my car!

-It's the guy from the car yard.

It's my car, you're not getting it. Clear off!

Four!

My car! You hit my car! I'm coming for you!

Oh, jeez. It pongs in here.

What are you doing?

So he can't drive away.

You'd better head home. I'll give these to Sarge.

I don't often get stuff right, but I was spot on about Egg's parents.

-When we saw you'd taken your things...

-We were so worried.

We may argue sometimes.

But there's one thing we absolutely agree on.

We both love you to bits.

Maybe the Leonard genes weren't so weird after all.

Sarge explained to me what he told Mr Streeton.

Homeless fellow, early 20s, beard, longish hair.

Called himself Monster.

Reckoned the car was his.

Been through a bit of a rough trot, I'd say.

Yeah, it's still got a bit of a pong.

I don't think there's much to be gained in charging him.

Right.

I'll see you on the telly then.

'Family cars, family deals...'

It's on, it's on!

It's on, it's on, it's on, it's on!

'..friendly, charming, pleasant or perky models...'

Oh, look!

There's Vicki. Isn't she lovely?

'Big Barry Streeton's anniversary sale!

'Where family's our business.

'And our business is family.'

-A bit syrupy.

-Mm.

I wouldn't buy a car from that man.

He looks a little bit shifty.

You'd buy a special off that man, would you, monkey boy?

Would monkey boy like a little banana?

HE MAKES MONKEY NOISES

There are some things you would never want to trade.

Like the moment mystery girl asked me to go surfing.

And the moment Philip almost got to kiss Lisa.

Lisa ran out of oranges at netball.

Lucky I had some left.

So we shared one.

I reckoned that was as good as a kiss.

True enough.

< Remember when we used to take the old girl to the drive-in?

Remember when I raced you to hospital when Lockie was on the way?

And Philip.

What do you reckon, Lock? Shall we trade her in?

Not a chance, Sarge.

Not a chance.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media

E-mail [email protected]