After his heroics on anzac day, Jack Ginnivan was certainly not short on fans, confidence, and girls screaming his name.
But there was only one girl that could catch his attention.
Author's Note: so apparently, at quarter time last night, they had a comedian from Wonthaggi (Blair country) telling some jokes but I missed it because (((((((((I have poor time management skills))))))) the train was stuck between Richmond and Flinders Street, and the 86 tram took forever. Anyway, I got to the pub in the second quarter (it's me, I'm the problem), luckily my fellow Irishmen had booked a whole table so I could sit with them, and still got to meet Faz at half time and full time. Oh what was I saying, yes Marcus Ryan, the boy from Wonthaggi, is doing shows at the comedy festival and did a spot at the Birmingham Hotel last night.
(L-R) Alex Fasolo, Marcus Ryan, Jarryd Blair. Faz definitely trying to show that his moustache is more superior than Marcus'.
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"Dad?" Trent asked, bewildered, walking into the lounge room finding Alex checking himself out in the full length mirror. "Are you okay?"
"Trent! Hi honey, I've been inspired," Alex mused, grinning at his reflection.
"By who?" Trent said, staring in horror at his dad in a business shirt and tie, short shorts, and dirty moustache. "Oleg Markov?"
Alex's eyes lit up. "Well, yeah, him too," he conceded. "But son, while you were in BrisVegas, I met the funniest man."
"We needed some entertainment for quarter time at the Birmingham and Carl Barron wasn't available," Alex explained, "So, Blairy called up an old mate from his high school and..." He blew out a breath. "Let me tell you, Trent, he was a huge inspiration."
"What did he say?" Trent asked, excitedly. "Was he funny?"
"He wasn't just funny," Alex said, pausing for dramatic effect. "He inspired me for a career change." He turned from the mirror to look at his son. "I'm going to try my hand at chauffeuring."
Trent frowned. "But you're already a chauffeur," he noted. "You drive me and Ginni to the movies all the time."
"Yeah, but for money," Alex said, one finger twirling his moustache. "What do you think of the mo?"
"It looks great, Dad," Trent said earnestly.
"It looks awful!" Shae hollered from a nearby room.
"You haven't even seen it!" Alex yelled back, and shook his head and huffed, and whispered, "How does she know?"
Trent just shrugged, and smiled comfortingly. "The joys of married life," he mused.
Alex just sighed and turned back to the mirror. "You look great, Fazzy," he told his mirrored self. "Fazzy looks great."
