CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | CONTACT
A local outsider has this week returned home from the Gold Coast as the legend of the bucks party, after starting the weekend at very poor odds.
Keiron James (29) was initially identified as the nameless workmate that had grown close to the buck as his closest mate in Melbourne, where they met on the job at the insurance brokerage firm they both work at.
The buck, Jeff, had urged the other hometown lads from Betoota to please give Keiron a go, because he’s a legend when you get to know him.
However, with that kind of pitch, usually comes a pretty ordinary bloke who is not that much of a legend when you get to know them.
Not too keen on the idea of having to bring some loser Victorian into the inner circle, Jeff’s old high school and footy mates immediately begin freezing Keiron out of conversations and the taxi rides.
Keiron, seeing no option but to remain patient and persevere with these small pond cunts, puts his head down and does what he does best:
Outdrink everyone and apply scathing banter to the weakest links as he sees them appear.
By day two, the sore heads of the bucks party began taking notice of Keiron’s quick wit and unrelenting energy.
“Fuck me this bloke has some ticker” says Bomber, a war-weary childhood friend of Jeff’s.
“Has he even fucken slept?”
Keiron in fact hadn’t slept. And he knew his best bet to surviving this weekend without becoming the loner – who has to rebook earlier flights for a quick getaway – is to worry about his hangover on the flight home in 72 hours.
With a long weekend ahead of them and heaps of those shitty activities that people force themselves to do on bucks parties scheduled, Keiron is gradually taking down rivals by challenging them to outmatch his binge drinking and extra curricular activities.
After chopping up a stick of high-grade Footscray cannabis and rolling the whole thing into one joint, Keiron begins looking for the hyper-competitive alphas of the group. The ones who don’t think it’s possible that they could green out at 30-years-old.
He finds two of them, and they go down like bags of bricks.
“Haha. Fuck” says Keiron.
“Did you boys forget to eat or something” he says to the withering corpses currently vomiting all over themselves.
“Haha. Anyone else wanna sack up?”
Keiron meets no new challengers. It’s day three and he is now steering this ship with one more night to go.
As the brittle groom goes and books a seperate hotel room to get a power nap in, Keiron begins to really play up.
“Lets go to the casino boys! Anyone keen?”
The group of battered survivors, who are now terrified of Keiron, reluctantly say yes.
“BLACKJACK!” he screams, as he takes the plate out of the microwave.
“Tell Jeff to meet us there. I wanna go to the high rollers”
The entire party shudders as Jeff’s submissive hometown mates sit down to put on their shoes.
