Anyway, you probably need to read the first three installments coz otherwise you'll be totally lost as this series is a really complex, with many characters whose stories intertwine as the tale unfolds and features lots of plot twists and you wouldn't want to be lost because then what would you have to talk about tomorrow at work? HUH? Enjoy it because there is only one more to come.
A glass of whiskey. In a pub.
[10.47AM, THURSDAY [REDACTED], CARLO SANDS ARRIVES AT [REDACTED] HOTEL LOOKING MORE DISHEVELED THAN USUAL AFTER THE REVELRY OF PART THREE. LESLIE [REDACTED] JOINS HIM 15 MINUTES LATER.]
LESLIE: [chewing] Hmmm … You know, croissants are awesome. They're basically made of butter, but then you're meant to put more butter on them! And you can't put too much on! No matter how much you put on, you can keep adding more! They're like a bardis.
CARLO: That’s nice. I bought you a whiskey. Here, why don’t you drink this lovely glass of whiskey I got you?
LESLIE: You… bought me a drink?
CARLO: Yes! I have a stiff whiskey for you right here! Christ man, you don't drink it I will, poison or no... ah... or NO poison as there ISN'T any poison in it! HAHAHA! Just drink the fucking whiskey.
LESLIE: You’re still bitter about this whole “me winning the duel to the death” thing aren’t you?
CARLO: No! Of course not! Jesus! Hell, OK ... thank fuck I’ve accumulated a tolerance to all major poisons over the years … [skulls the whiskey]. That hit the spot.
LESLIE: Where did you even get the money for that whiskey?
CARLO: Oh, I ... borrowed it. By the way you might want to avoid the gents for a bit, it’s a little ... bloody in there.
LESLIE: You know, I’ve put up with a lot over many millennia, but trying to poison a friend is a bit rough.
CARLO: FRIEND? FRIEND??? YOU FUCKING BEAT ME IN A DUEL TO THE DEATH!
LESLIE: Well, OK, maybe more bound together by some cosmic force in punishment for some horrendous sin I committed at an unspecified time that I can’t recall. But, technically, I don’t see why killing someone means you can't be friends with them.
CARLO: That is just typical “deadist” bigotry that reveals your “living privilege”! You alive people have no idea what us dead have to put up with!
LESLIE: You know, I’ve actually had people question whether you are truly dead. It's quite insulting, because it is very poor form to claim victory in a duel on an uncertified or questionable outcome. If there’s one thing that we’ve always both agreed on, it’s the need to maintain the rules and dignity of the duel.
CARLO: And that all duels must be carried out without pants. Those are the two essentials.
LESLIE: Absolutely. What are you doing?
CARLO: What? Just admiring my abs.
LESLIE: You have abs?
CARLO: Of course I do! They’ve the hardness and consistency of a bag of marshmallows! I’ve spent a shitload of other people's money on beer to get them this way. This stomach is a work of art! I’m going into business to sell my secret to the perfect belly.
LESLIE: You’re advertising now? What, like before and after photos? Implausible testimonials and claims that “you too can achieve these amazing results” in x easy steps in just y weeks following Dr Sands' exclusive program?
Carlo: Sure. My rates are cheap. A cartoon of beer a day and another per night.
Leslie: You know, people are quite suspicious of these things that offer incredible results with no effort. No one could actually achieve your impressive results without putting in some serious hard work.
Carlo: I say that! I don't offer instant overnight success! I always tell people, you gotta work at it, you gotta constantly be drinking beer, eating shit food, sitting down seven-days-a-week, 52-weeks-a-year, ten-years-a-decade, ten-decades-a-century-or-until-the-liver-fails. Don't expect that you can do it a couple of days and the rest of the week be out there at the gym, eating fucking tofu and quaffing mineral water! I say “THIS IS SERIOUS! SO GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING MONEY!”
LESLIE: Hmmm. Well, speaking of daylight robbery, you know I was reading an article just the other day about old Moondyne Joe. You remember, the bushranger? I’m surprised nobody's made the connection between you and Moondyne. Like, they think he just ended up that insane on his own?
CARLO: Moondyne Joe? Western Australia's best known bushranger?
CARLO: Born poor in Cornwall and became a petty criminal and robber who was eventually transported to Australia in 1852? Took up bushranging and was repeatedly arrested, becoming famous for his many escapes from jail?
LESLIE: Yeah. Ol' Joey.
CARLO: Never heard of him. [hissing] FOR FUCK’S SAKE THIS IS A PUBLIC PLACE!
LESLIE: Oh, yeah sorry.
CARLO: No one MADE any connection because there is NO connection to be made! Anyway, I was on a surfing holiday in Hawaii at the time. [hissing] FUCK man… SHUT UP!
LESLIE: Yes… [starts humming a random tune] Hey, have you ever been singing to yourself, and then you get so irritated you call the cops on you to shut yourself up?
CARLO: You’re clearly not drunk enough. Otherwise you'd be pushing yourself shouting “come on you bastard, you know the words COME ON! [singing badly]‘I MET MY LOVE BY THE GASWORKS WALL, DREAMED A DREAM BY THE OLD...’” then you’d pass out. That’s how I do it. Here, I'll show you...
[REST OF FILE REDACTED.]
‘I’ll chop you down, like an old dead tree...’ Fucking poetry! Stay tuned for the final, fifth installment!