ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
In more developed parts of the nation, electronic poker machines are a key pillar of our nation’s illicit drug trade.
Simply find a pub with some dumb-looking-19-year-old manchild working the bar, feed thousands into a machine, gamble it down a few times then withdraw.
“It’s as easy as that,” said Colin Bergamot, a 41-year-old Betoota Heights man who grows marijuana in the Betoota Lakes State Forrest for various organised crime groups.
“Well, it used to be. Without pokies to launder money with, my options are now few and far between. Not to mention how much riskier they’d be. I’m getting desperate.”
For a brief moment, Colin thought about starting a car wash. Then he considered starting his own charitable foundation. Perhaps, he thought, he might even try starting his own office supply business.
Each idea was crazier than the last. Until he thought outside the box.
“I put nearly $400 000 in my Whirlpool about an hour ago. It must be close to finishing now,”
“In my twenty-odd years of growing the sticky green shit, I’d never thought about doing this. Mind you, I don’t really get paid in cash this much but times have changed,”
“Just yesterday, I had half a dozen corporate types come up here looking to buy weed for cash. The first bloke didn’t phone ahead so I had to whip him about the head with a length of dog chain so he remembers for next time. His fucking son got out of the car, too and I put the fucking dog on him.”
Colin pointed to an arctic-white Bull Terrier lying down in the sun next to the front gate.
“That fucking thing,” Colin said.
“Anyway, those boys left with their pound of weed and I got paid so no harm done. So you want some fucking weed or do I have to put the dog on you, too?”
Our reporter laughed nervously and asked for a 50.
More to come.
