"Laura, you have won the chance of a lifetime... a boat trip with three of your closest friends," the radio announcer announced.
"Wooo hooo!" I yelled into the phone, as I stuffed a piece of cake from the fridge in my mouth.
The next day, I brought my three buddies down to the local harbour to begin our boat trip around Melbourne's stunning beaches.
The owner of the boat was waiting beside it, grinning at us. "Who have you brought?"
"Alex Fasolo, Matty Wade... aaaaaaaand T-Pain!" I said, pointing to each person in turn. I grinned at them all, and each one grinned back.
Bad Haddin was lurking behind Tim. "But... I... I thought I would be..." Bad started to say.
I shook my head at him. "We're going on a boat trip, Bad, we can't have someone constantly dropping the anchor all the time. Jaysus."
Bad sighed. "Okay."
Me, Alex, Wadey, and Tim jumped on the boat and the sailor got it moving. We waved goodbye to the owner, who was grinning, and also Bad, who was sulking.
"I'm flippin' burgers!" Tim said, gleefully, starting up the barbeque and throwing some burgers on.
"Put some sausages on for me," Alex called, lounging on chair with an ice cold beer.
"Me too," I yelled, sitting on a chair near Alex.
"Pass me a beer, Faz," Wadey called, sitting on the other side of the decking.
Alex chucked a beer in his direction. Wade stretched out his hands, fumbled it, and ended up catching it between his knees.
Tim chuckled. "Oh Matt," he said, shaking his head.
"Hey, it didn't drop," Wadey countered, taking a swig.
We laughed and drank and ate burgers for a few hours. It was glorious fun.
Tim showed us all his skillz, like flipping burgers straight into our bread rolls from about 5 metres away, and reflexively putting tomato sauce and onions on four sausage-in-breads at once, and getting them to each person at the same time.
"I can do that too," Wadey said, munching into a sausage.
"We believe you," I said, smiling kindly at little Wade, "it's just T-Pain is impressive."
Wadey fell silent, probably imagining his wonderful century at the SCG.
"I can do that too," Alex exclaimed, throwing his serviette at me.
"Sure you can," I said, throwing the serviette back.
"I'll show you," Alex said, "I will serve the dessert."
We all watched as Alex got a few mini apple pies out of the Esky. He put one in each bowl, added some ice-cream, and tossed them at us.
I got my pie straight into my face. I groaned as apple, pastry and the coldness of the ice-cream slid down my face.
Wiping the majority off with my hands, I glanced at everyone else. Wadey had apple and ice-cream splattered on his good cricket whites, and T-Pain had apple smeared around his mouth and ice-cream on his expensive new shoes.
I glared at Alex, who was innocently eating his pie and ice-cream without a worry in the world.
I saw that Wadey and Tim were also glaring at Alex.
I nodded at them.
They nodded at me.
Alex was absent-mindedly eating.
I snuck over to the Esky, fished out a blueberry pie, spun around quickly and shoved it in Alex's face.
Alex's bowl smashed on the ground.
Alex stood there, his face hidden behind a curtain of blueberry, and laughed too.