The scene is set - a dark night, cold wind blowing, campfire...

The scene is set - a dark night, cold wind blowing, campfire flickering, stars twinkling in the sky.
Three hang-glider pilots are standing by the campfire - one from New Zealand, one from Suth Efrika and one from Australia - each embroiled in the bravado for which they are famous.

The night of tales begins...

Kiven the Kiwi says, "I must be the meanest, toughest, heng glider there uz. Why, jist the other day I linded un a field and scared a crocodile, who came out of the swamp and ate sux min who were standin close by. I grebbed the crocodile and wristled him to da ground, and killed um with my beer hends".

Mork the Suth Efrikan who couldn't stand to be bettered said, "Well you guys, I lended orfter a 200 mile flight in my glider on a tiny trail, and a Namibian snake slud out from under a rock and made a move on me. I grebbed de borsted with me bare hinds and bit it's head off, then sucked the poison from it's body down in one gulp".


Stevo the Australian remained silent...and slowly stoked the fire with his penis.