With all of the politics dramas on in the AFL, our Italian Correspondents BYRD, CONTESSA MANSKI and UNCLE EV suggest a VACATION to get away from it all.
I tend to agree…let’s go!
The McLachlan family competes on Australia’s favourite game show – Family Feud and wins an all expenses paid trip to Europe.
Actually truth is known that “McMoron” bribed the host – Grant Denyer and the producer of the game show during the ad break just before the segment of fast money was about to air.
Convincing Denyer and the producer to rig the final results at the end of the show in exchange for a lifetime free membership to their AFL clubs they each support.
After winning a European holiday, Gillon “McMoron” McLachlan convinces his reluctant family to accompany him. His wife Laura “The Mrs.” is delighted, as for their children Edie, Sydney and Cleo are not at all keen to be travelling side by side with their snotty parents.
In a whirlwind tour of Western Europe, chaos of all sorts ensues.
Complimentary accommodation thanks to the producers of Family Feud, the McLachlan family stays in a fleabag infested London hotel – The Stinky Pheasant with a sloppy, tattooed Cockney clerk as their inhospitable and unfriendly host.
While in their English rental car, a vintage canary yellow 1985 Austin Maxi, McMoron drives his poor family endlessly around the busy Lambeth Bridge roundabout for hours, unable to maneuver his way out of traffic.
Gillon has only just realized that he had totally forgot to submit his footy tips for round 17 and was frantically trying to locate a suitable Wi-Fi connection for his iPad. His wife Laura just before take off has confiscated his beloved iWatch, in the hope that he will pay some affectionate attention to his own family for a change.
Nervously approaching the Hotel Manager at front reception, in definition the Manager had a huge scar right across his forehead, wearing a soiled singlet, sculling beer, and looked as though he hasn’t had a wash in months. McMoron twisting his nose, his wife Laura understandably kept her distance covering her mouth with a handkerchief, Gillon asked the following: “Excuse me sir, I need to place my footy tips in quickly. Do you have any Wi-Fi in this hotel?”
The Hotel Manager speaking very quickly in a heavy English accent grunted: “You’re scuppered mate, this place is full of macaroons, of course I could get on the dog and bone and call my friend down White Chapel way”.
Gillon unable to understand what the Hotel manager is saying, foolishly he begins to activate his translation device from his iPhone app.
“Gill! Just get it over and done with! Bloody well put down Hawthorn.” Laura yelled eager to exit the hotel; the stench from the Hotel Manager was now creeping towards the couple.
“Gillon, you’re driving on the wrong side of the road!” Laura panicked.
Clearly embarrassed, McMoron confessing: “Yes I know. I’m also on the wrong side of the car.” Adding: “Where we’re heading? Did you left our itinerary back at the hotel?”
“I would rather walk from London to Geelong on foot than go back inside that Hotel seeing and smelling that odious oaf of a Manager. You want the itinerary, get it yourself!” Roared Laura.
The McLachlan’s are visiting Buckingham Palace much to the dismay of his three children who were visibly bored and just wanted play games on their ipads instead.
Hopelessly Laura is trying to control her spoilt and overbearing brats, Gillon sipping his fourth glass of South Australian Penfolds limited edition Grange Hermitage Bin 95, once again Gillon bribed from a nearby pub – The Buckingham Arms, slurring: “Aw, there’s the Buck House kids, that’s where the Queen lives and vacuums”.
Baffled Laura questions: “What does she do?”
Already drunk, shrugging his shoulders, Gillon confirm: “She Queens, and she vacuums.”
Checking out of their flea infested London Hotel – The Stinky Pheasant, the brute of the Hotel Manager threw out all their belongings out into the middle of the street after Gillon tipped him with just one measly penny. Shoving his heavy-duty underpants into his already over cramped suitcase, Gillon was furious instituting: “If I get any more smarmy attitude from Ross (Rampaging) Lyon when I get back home, I will do exactly what happened to me today to his beloved Dockers”.
“Darling, It’s not Ross’s fault, he’s not even here.” Soothed his wife.
“Well that bloody feral Hotel Manager looks and smells like him, I have to take it out on some one.” Raged Gillon.
Arriving in Paris, the McLachlan’s wastes no time, according to McMoron, the only way to sight see around Paris is Gillon’s way not with a guided tour; complete waste of money.
A pompous Gillon announces: “There’s the left bank kids. I bet you can’t guess what bank is on the right.”
Laura enraged, kicks Gillon hard shouting: “The Bank of Kinky Hinkley!”
In a small German village, Gillon is looking for his distant relatives house; he has been googling Ancestry.com and he seems to think he has hit the jackpot. Arriving at the door step of the cottage, Mr Fritz Spritz and his wife Helga Spritz were stunned to see the McLachlan’s at the their door step with a box of chocolates and a huge bouquet of flowers.
In very bad German Gillon stuttered: “Hallo, schön Dich kennen zu lernen.”
Hello, nice to meet you.
Adding: “We’re from Melbourne Australia. I believe we are related. Can we come in?”
In perfect English, Fritz Spritz spat back: “No! We are not related! Hop back to Australia and leave us alone!”
Disappointed with the so-called family reunion in Germany, the McLachlan’s next stop was in Austria, Laura wanted to see the Von Trapp house and visit the hills in Salzburg.
Driving along in their rented vintage Austin Maxi, Gillon and his Mrs. sang out loud: “The hills are alive with the sound of McLachlan’s”.
Blocking her ears, Edie McLachlan grumbled: “The Bulldogs players singing their club theme song have better voices than you two.”
“Ah! Bellissima Italia. Do you remember when we first got married we strolled along the Spanish steps, how romantic.” Crooned Laura.
“Yeah, I’ll never forget it. I actually fell down and broke my leg and was sent back to Melbourne shortly after. Nothing sentimental about that Laura!” Whined McMoron.
West Coast Eagles
“This it kids, the famous Coliseum, the Amphitheatre right in the centre of the city of Rome. What I would give to see West Coast Eagles and Shitney battle it out in gladiatorial contest and public spectacle in ripping each other apart. A battle of epic proportions.” Gillon revealed excitedly.
After a week in Europe, upon McMoron’s insistence they all head back to Austria for the annual summer dance festival that takes place twice each week during the months of July and August. The idiot abroad – McMoron participates in the traditional Austrian folk dance, which features traditional Austrian costumes and some knee slapping, with his poor wife and kids horrifically looking on.