Waiting for a Mate

It's late at night and I'm just sat comfortable in front of the idiot box when I hear a commotion outside. I duck my head out to see and before I know it, I'm watching a young bogan crash into a pole, flipping six, seven times. The noise is horrific - grind! Bang! Crash! The stink of smoke and fire. People are sticking their heads out all over the joint, trying to get a squizz of the action, but I'm the only bugger prepared with a camera, so I guess it's up to me.

I'm out there like a shot, ready for the bloke to scupper, but me luck's holding and he's just sat there behind the wheel. The car's smoking, no, it's actually on fire, and the bloke's just sat there, like cor blimey, mate.

I'm ready to interview him when the coppers come on scene. It's Senior Constable Ash Bowden and he's as straight lace as they come. He's cautious as he heads over, like the smoking car might explode and the bogan at the wheel's just sat there still. I'm startin' to think he's a  dummy, 'stead of a real bloke, but SC Ash's first question rouses him.

"Whatcha doin'?" Ash wants to know, and the bloke's calm and collected with his reply, "just waitin' for a mate".

Y'all heard it here, blokes and sheilas. It ain’t gonna get any more simple than that. Those are words to make history right there, best rep to a copper this reporter's ever heard. Now, don't mind me, I'm for the bar. You'll find me inside, 'just waiting for a mate'.