A Pint Sized Insurgency pt 3

4 flannel net-shirted, mullet-headed bogans drinking beer and smoking bongs in a tiny decrepit tinny somewhere on the river ‘whatever’, hazily observe two tiny black speck’s appear in the moonlit night sky falling to earth, disappearing into the dark ripples of the distant sea.

Dawg resurfaces from underneath the ocean surface in a splish of glee. “Wat a rush ay bro?”

Snug and dry in his watertight skin-clad capsule, he kicks his heels together igniting blasters and jets through the parting sea towards land… coasting along effortlessly in the wash of his brothers slipstream. Lights flicker on the horizon as the twins draw nearer, muffled sounds, muffled voices were detected in the distance, an ominous sensation of the lurking unknown hanging in the air. An ACDC guitar riff echoes across the surface of the water.

‘Faze 2 engage” The pair nod at each other in telepathic unison, flick off faceshields, activate sonar and duck-dive under the surface of the sea with a plink plonk. They carve through the sleeping underwater ecosystem undetected, their suits absorbing and breaking down element particles from the water for extended subterranean oxygenation. Gardens of murky underwater seaweed loom to the left and right, shadows meander by in the distance, all monitored astutely on Zorgs sonar from distance. Brim and flathead everywhere, biting.

The twin submarine ninjas draw nearer to shore when without warning they suddenly dive for cover in a spiral stream of microbubbles. They find temporary refuge underneath the partial remains of a suspiciously sunken rusted V8 holden, successfuly evading the attentions of a passing hammerhead shark and her hungry pup.

Zorg calculates the tinny’s distance and location safe from cover, and synchronizes his threat radar with his brothers.

Silently the two underwater shadows glide unnoticed by the boat of beer guzzling burping bogans. Stealthily they evade the lines, leurs and skewered beach-worms wriggling for survival in the shifting currents, before eventually reaching the darkened underside of a rusty moonlit suspension bridge.

In chameleon-crouch beneath the outcrop of the slimy stone wall the twins emerge silently and steadily from the lapping waves. They scurry up and across a small hill and grassy plain peppered with chilled-out families of nonchalant Kangaroos, and proceed to strobe across the shrubs and fences into the geometrical landscape of the suburban neighborhood.  The plastered stoners float directly opposite, entranced in the howls of the Aussie Rock belting out of a small radio... oblivious to the flickering ghost ninja shadows.

They had arrived safely, but most importantly undetected.

***