02x06 - Season 2, Episode 6

Tidda 1: What's this, then, slut?

Tidda 2: What's this, then, slut?

What's this, then, slut? What's this, then, slut? (Repeating)

Eyah, slut!

Welcome to New Zealand. Aotearoa, slut!

Me and my man have got a booking here.

We'd like to... check in.

Yes, of course. Now, if I could just get your name?

(Mobile phone rings)

One moment please.


What do you mean you can't make the wedding!?

But you're the Best Slut, and the Slut of Honour!

Well, I hope your recovery is f*cked!

What's going on!?

Peter Blant and Bent Budhoo James and can't make the wedding because James is recovering from surgery.

What surgery?

He's had surgery to unbend his bent budhoo - that big bendy budhoo slut!

What a pair of sluts!

So what are we going to do now? Get married!

(Gasps) Anyway, we don't need them.

The wedding will be better off with two less sluts.

Aww, I love it when you talk like that!

That's why you're my... lord of my rings!

Ooh! Who needs Middle Earth when I've got the middle of your fork!

Oh, stop it! You're getting my precious all worked up!

Then why should I stop, because you know I love going there and back again!

See how you go! Can't even carry me up to our room!

Excuse me, excuse me.

You can't go up to your room yet. You haven't checked in.

Well, what's this, then, slut?

Well, it all started when I was on my way to uni one morning.

It was a Tuesday morning, and the bus was really crowded.

It was peak hour, and no-one would sit with me.

See the thing is, it happened all the time but I always thought it was in my head.

Like I was paranoid, or something, you know?

But then I realised what was actually going on.

They weren't sitting next to me because...

It's alright, you can have a seat.

...I'm Aboriginal.

So I decided to make a campaign the only way I know how.

Through hashtags and social media.

I wanted to make a difference. So I typed it.

'Hashtag, I'll sit with you'.

I pressed enter, and it was done.

It went viral.

(Message tone sounds)

People made bracelets with ♪illsitwithyou.

They could wear them as a sign of support.

Everyone was wearing them.

And for one harmonious moment, it felt like everyone was sitting with everyone else, no matter what their colour.

But then it went wrong.

People went too far.

They were always sitting next to Aboriginal people all the time.

On the bus, at lunch...

Hey, hey, someone's in here! I'll sit with you.

It had gone too far.

And it wasn't just happening to me.

It was happening to all Aboriginal people, and they were resenting me for it.

I knew what I had to do.

With great power comes great responsibility.

I had to make it stop.

So I went back online, and I typed 'Hashtag, don't sit with me'.

I have to wear these on a daily basis now.

Just in case.

But usually I just go about my business.

Oh, and it also turns out I got halitosis.

That's bad breath.

Which is probably why no-one sat with me in the first place.

So I just rollerblade everywhere now.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

I'm still learning, but it means I don't have to sit next to people anymore.

So, Alex. You're back.


Excited to be behind the wheel of a live motor vehicle?

Yeah, sure.

Well, you shouldn't goddamn be!

You get excited in a live motor vehicle, you die.

(Whispers) You die.


So, what do you do before you start the car?

Uh, buckle up?


Check my blind spots.

What else?

Uh, flick on my indicator?

What the hell are you doing?

I don't know.

I thought you were supposed to indicate with your flicker before turning out so that the other cars know.

Did I say put your flicker on?

No. You didn't.

Exactly. I did not.

I thought you had to indicate when turning out.

When you don't listen... (Softly) ..you die.

OK. What am I supposed to do?

You're supposed to put your hand out the window, and give the people behind you the finger, while you pull out.

(Chuckles) I mean, that's not an actual thing though.

You think I got my license at a freakin' $2 store?

No, I just thought, you know, it's kind of rude.

Rude. (Scoffs)

You ain't got no clipboard.


You ain't got no badge.

You don't have no pen, and you definitely do not have these glasses.

You know what?

You're right. I shouldn't be allowed to drive.

I'm done.

But, Alex.

I thought we were friends.

I think you're a really great guy.

I care about you.

I don't want you to... (Softly) ..die.

Really? You really feel that way about me?

Of course not. Now, get out of the car.

Double lesson next time. I'm charging you for three!

(Bridal march plays)


Eyah, sluts!

What, sluts?

What are you two doing here?

I could ask the same of you two sluts.

Show him your ring, baby.

I mean your engagement ring!

He liked it, so he put a ring on it!

Then he put his ring on it. Biggest mob times.

Biggest mob!

That's because he's got the biggest hole.

Don't try and make out you're all stitched up.

Everybody knows you've got the biggest hole in Auckland, or in your case, Forkland!

I wouldn't be so sure about that!

We're getting married too, and by the looks of it, my ring is bigger.

A lot bigger.

Your ring looks real dull.

(Both scoff)

That's only because my ring needs a clean.

My man polish it for me later.

That's right, sluts!

Plus, we've got the best Beyonce drag celebrant in all of New Zealand!

You mean the baddest, blackest, booty-shaking bitch in all of Aotearoa, Robert Frescon, aka Ima Mimer?

That's right, bitches! So what you got?

Oh, we got her too, bitch! We got her too!

And did I mention she's our friend?

That means that bitch for free.

I don't believe anything that comes out of sluts' mouths anyway.

Well, you better believe it. And you better believe it good!

Well, I don't believe it! I don't believe it bad!

Then you sluts should come see for yourselves.

3:30 tomorrow afternoon at the Hilton.

3:30!? But we're getting married at 3:30!

I'd double-check that if I were you.

(Dials number)

(Phone rings)

Hello, Ima?

I'm ringing about our wedding tomorrow at 3:30.

What message?

Listen here, you woolly-haired, bandy-legged, Beyonce wannabe slut!


She hung up on me! That bitch hung up on me!

Looks like you'll have to get married back home in Australia.

Oh, that's right! They can't because of slut legislation!

But we searched everywhere for that slut!

I'm starting to think we're not meant to get married.

First the Best Slut and Slut of Honour can't make it, and now our celebrant can't marry us.

What if we're not meant to get married!?

Aw, don't say that!

What if we're not meant to be eternal sluts! (Sobs)

Are youse happy now?

This was supposed to be the most slutty experience of our lives, and you've just ruined it, ruined it!

Can't even get married!

(Shoes squeak with each step)

Uh, well, I'm... I'm very sorry, Sam.

Why, what's wrong?

Well, I'm afraid the results have come back and... it's cancer.



Well, now you know how Aboriginal people feel, eh?


Laine, that was delicious. You have outdone yourself this time.

Oh, stop it.

No, you really have. You're a lucky man, Stu.

A very lucky man.

So, how's Janelle? Janelle?

Yeah, Trevor's sister. You know, the one you sponsored.

'A dollar a day.' Your Aboriginal?

Oh, Janelle. Yes, Janelle.

Yeah, we, uh... had to let her go.

Go? Yep, go. Shwoosh. Like that.

Wow! Yeah, I know.

Yeah, we read this book on Aboriginal self-determination.

It was very enlightening.

Basically, what it said is that Aborigines need to take their matters into their own hands.

Yeah. Wow.

We were being, like, white saviours and not letting her have any of her own autonomy.

Well, that's what the book said, and we really, we just... we couldn't do that to Janelle.

Yeah, not Janelle.

So we decided that what was best for her, as white people, was to... leave her alone.

Is she OK?

Oh, I think so.

We haven't really heard from her.

No, no, not since we changed the number and all that, but oh, no, I did hear that she'd been evicted.

Well, maybe the next time we see Trevor, we could ask him about her.

You still have Trevor? We sure do.

Why? Oh, it's...

It's a bit oppressive, isn't it? You're being a bit of a coloniser.

We helped Trevor set up a bank account with his own savings the other week.

He seemed very thankful.

He even carved us an emu egg when we paid for him to go back to country to get off the junk.

That's all well and good, but have you ever asked Trevor what he wanted?

No, not... directly.

Well, there you go! Ah.

You see, you need to let Trevor decide what he wants.

By himself. With autonomy and self-determination.

Also, you'll save a ton. Oh, God!

When we stopped paying Janelle a dollar a day, we realised that we'd saved enough to install a hot tub next to the pool.

Wow! I know!

Oh, we'll have to do a little dip later.

So what you're saying is that by helping Trevor, we're not helping Trevor at all, we're being white saviours and we are oppressing his self-determination?


Maybe we should cancel Trevor. What do you think, honey?

Well, I don't want to hurt Trevor.

Oh, come on, do it. Just do it!

Let him have his freedom, like it was before colonisation.

Let them have that.

OK. Let's do it. For Trevor. Awww.

To Trevor and Janelle.

Aborigines and self-determination.


Who's for that sneaky dip in the hot tub?


I haven't even brought my swimmers!

Ooh, no matter!


(Bridal march plays)

Eyah, slut! What, slut? (Sobs)

Should we just get another celebrant?

What's the use? (Sobs)

(Knock at door)

I'll get that. (Sobs)

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Now, we come in peace.

We want to talk to you about something.



Cut to the chase, sluts! How did you find us anyway?

It wasn't hard.

We just asked around if anybody had seen two depressed Aboriginal sluts.

You leave quite the slutty, teary trail.

Look, it doesn't matter how we found you.

What matters is that we're here with an offer.

What offer?

Well, seeing that you can't get married back home in the 'lucky country' and Ima's a very good friend of ours, and can marry us whenever the hell we want, we'd like to give up our booking.

You lie.

Quite the opposite, actually.

After you'd both left, Merv and I decided we've never seen poorer sluts in all our lives.


So here we are. Do you want it or not?

What do you mean, 'Do we want it'? Of course we want it!

We didn't fly to New Zealand to finger ourselves!

Well, then it's yours. Congratulations.

We hope you have a happy life together.

You may have to apologise to Ima though, for calling her a bandy-legged, woolly-haired, Beyonce wannabe slut.

You're lucky she let us work it out, so make sure you say sorry.

Well, since we're in the mood for doing good deeds I'd like to make you two an offer.

And, yep, it pretty much shows what I expected.

Congratulations, you're pregnant.

(Breathes heavily)

OK, so we'll prescribe you some prenatal vitamins.

(Whooshes through air)

Any questions?

(Lift bell rings)

And again, congratula-...


Hey there, Nana. See you heard the good news.

(Breathes heavily)


Voice-over: Is your life going nowhere?

Wake up to yourself!

(Exhales heavily)

My series of books and audio books, as read by me, Uncle Doctor, are bound to get you on the right path.

Best sellers like...


Order now, ya dumb dog.


(Music skips, distorts)

Call Uncle Doctor to-...


Uncle Doctor!


Yes, son.

Who do I look more like - you or Mum?

Well, you kind of look more like your... Uncle Jimmy.



(Continues whistling)


(Shouting in fear, heavy breathing)

He didn't manage to follow us, did he?

No, thank god. We've definitely lost him.

The b*st*rd almost got me with that carving knife!

Why did we have to split up?

Because they wanted to send the black guy off to die first!

Dickhead, we're both black.

Yeah, but I'm blacker. That's why they sent me to die first.

How come you're blacker than me?

Well, I'm certainly not whiter than you.

You want to do this now?

Oh, bruz, you watch Ellen DeGeneres.

You're about as Aboriginal as Pad Thai.

Says Terry the Tennis player.

Well, you pronounce your R's!

You have boat insurance!

As a matter of fact, you got a f*ckin' boat!

Argh, your parents are happily married!

You thought 'shake a leg' was a seasoning!

You stand up for the national anthem!

(Both scream)

Oh, God. Oh, God, please! Don't kill us!

Kill him, he's blacker!


You're black too!

I'm white, I'm super white. I play tennis.

I drive a Volvo!

I own a boat! And it's insured!

I... I vote Liberal!

I watch Sky News!

I watch Ellen! Oh, please, please, please.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Are you guys operating under the assumption that I've picked you based on some cultural or aesthetic reason?

That sh1t is hurtful!

(Both whimpering)


So, Ginny, I heard it all went down at bingo the other day.

Oh, you mean with Jane Arsehole Bitch Kerrigan?

Oh, it went down all right.

That arsehole bitch got what was coming to her.

Why!? What happened?

Well, you know that deep fork won the jackpot a few weeks ago?

The one that wouldn't give you half of it?

Anyway, since she's won the jackpot, she's been parading her wrinkled-up, dried-out, saggy fork around my bingo. Please!

Make me sick!

Oh you haven't heard the best of it yet!

Oh, what!?

Well, I was standing in line patiently to get my jackpot tickets when that bitch tries to push in.

No! Yes!

And with them group of bitches, I might add!

Ooh-ah! Well, I wouldn't have a bar of it.

I told her to drag her out-of-shape arse to the back of the line where it belongs.

You know what that dirty stop-out had the cheek to say to me?


That her arse is only out of shape because my dear old Pete used to bang it so hard.


Oh, that was it!

I grabbed that lizard-lipped, emu-necked, goanna-eyed bitch by the throat, and next minute, we're rolling around on the ground.

You go girl! Oh, I went alright!

She didn't know what to do, so she started grabbing them bingo dobbers.

And she started hitting me in the face with them.

By the time I wrestled them off her, I looked like I was painted up for ceremony.

And then what happened?

Well, I grabbed them dobbers off her, and I said to her, 'Ooh, hey, you wanna dob, ay? You deep fork.'

And then I dobbed her from head to toe.

That bitch looked like she had the pox.

That was it. They sh1t themselves.

They packed up that bitch and they left.

Well, what'd you do then? I played bingo, of course!

Nothing - and I mean nothing - comes between me and my bingo.

Ginny. The world could learn a thing or two from you.

(Bridal march plays)


(Excited chatter)


Woo-hoo. My man, my man, my man!


♪ Me, me, me, me, me. Look at me now! ♪
♪ Here comes the one who's getting married today ♪
♪ All you gammin jealous bitches better get out of my way ♪
♪ 'Cause I've got a man, and youse ain't got sh1t ♪
♪ And if youse haven't married by now ♪
♪ You poor bitches might as well quit. ♪


Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two in marriage.

Before I go any further, is there anyone out there that does not believe these two should be getting married?




(Clears throat)

Mark, do you take Greg to be your lawful wedded husband?

I do.

And, Greg, do you take Mark to be your lawful wedded husband?

What do you think?

I didn't go through sh1t for the last few days just to run away from my man. (Giggles)


The ring is on! The ring is on! The ring is on!

I now pronounce you husband and husband.

Tiddas, you may kiss the slut.

(Mutters) Come here, you slut.

(Cheering and applause)

So much for, 'can't even get married'!

So what do we do now?

There's only one thing sluts do at a time like this!

Can't even dance?

(Gasps) What's this, then, slut?

What's this, then, slut? What's this, then, slut?


What's this, then, slut? What's this, then, slut?

What's this, then, slut? (All repeat)