Richard Fidler

He wanted a fresh note.

Don't blame him.

After it had effectively been used as a second underpants for yourself.

Right.

So after several, well, many failed attempts to get out of this inlet, you and two of the others did find your way, pushing your way through the dense forest scrub.

But when you found your way up to a road, long story short, a logger picked you up.

Right, so you're standing there in your jocks in an orange canopy made out of... What can you worry about that?

Like covered in scuts and bruises, looking like something from a horror movie, really, I suppose.

I'm sure he'd see that all the time.

I'm sure he'd see that all the time.

Just out for a stroll.

That's right.

It's like everyday apparel in that part of Tassie, it is, yeah.

He stopped for you, though.

And your family.

Everyone had been told you were dead, including Joni, your fiancée.

Absolutely disgusting.

Then I suppose once you were able to get to a phone, how were you able to tell Joni you were still alive?

Yeah, scones.

You know, that's lovely.