Chongo sprang out of his chair. "C'mon, I say we go and rescue her now. Who's coming?"

Freda and JennyO grabbed his arms.

"Whoa boy", said freda. "Let's not rush into this. I think our girl can take care of herself just fine, and I don't think she would be here if she didn't want to be."

"She's right you know", chimed in JennyO, "I don't think you know our Magenta, Chongo. She's been very - well - confident lately - you could even say a woman of power. Besides, I feel a poem coming on. Remember that one called "Fair Crack of the Whip" - you know, the one with the leather and stilettos and the whip, girls?"

"How could I forget?" said Jennie G.

"My kids think I'm weird 'cause I keep breaking into poetry and song" JennyO went on, "but what the heck - here goes.."



Mick he was a bushman, he was up there with the best
He'd been in the saddle nearly all his life.
But lately things had changed, his thoughts had rearranged
Yes, it was time that Michael found himself a wife.

He'd given up the one-night stands, he'd given up the booze
He'd settle down and get himself employed.
So with a sad touch of remorse, he sold his faithful horse
No more the saddle life would he enjoy.

Now the object of his fancy was the local schoolgirl miss
She was pretty, she was delicate and frail.
Mick fell in head first, the kind of love it was the worst
That womenfolk could foster in a male.

He wasn't takin' any chances, he was playin' all his cards
And Elizabeth McGee she was the stake.
He'd do all he could to win her, he would take her out to dinner
And on Sundays they'd go walking by the lake.

Then finally the night arrived that Mick had waited for,
When Elizabeth invited him to tea.
So he showered, combed his hair, and he had this speech prepared..
"Er - er - Elizabeth, will you marry me?"

You see he knew he had to marry this young girl from the south
She was cute and kind and every mother's dream,
Her hands were soft and gentle, she was sweet and sentimental,
And her eyes they sparkled with a magic gleam.

So they shared a lovely dinner, and Mick was most polite,
Though thoughts of marriage occupied his head.
So he was very much inspired, when she casually enquired..
"Would you like to see the etchings by my bed?

I'll slip into something comfortable, you go into the room,
Take your drink and why not lie down for awhile?"
And while she didn'nt look satanic, young Mick began to panic,
When he saw the wicked nature of her smile.

Then she burst back through the door! Wearing leather head to toe!
She had stilettoes on and pistols at her hip!
towards Michael she was prowling, she was grunting! she was growling!
And in her hand she held a nine-foot whip!

For Elizabeth McGee was different you see,
by day she was an angel from above,
But by night she was a witch, an evil, nasty...person
Who substituted punishment for love.

Well she chased him 'round the house with her whips and chains and spikes,
She tortured him until his hide was raw.
And, being realistic, Mick was somewhat masochistic
For all that he could say to her was "More!"

Well, she kept him there for days, but Mick had finally had enough,
He busted free and bolted for his life,
He couldn't see for quids, how he could think of raisin' kids
With this schizophrenic creature as his wife!

So he sold his city clothes, went and got his horse,
Packed his swag and headed for the scrub,
But his tale of woe got out, when he'd had one too many shouts,
And he told his mates about it at the pub.

Now the boys all get a laugh when they see their old mate, Mick,
Chasin' cattle through the saltbush or the bracken,
They can see his face for miles, how he flinches - then he smiles..
Every time the whips they start a-crackin'!



"Get down off the table Jenny", hissed Jennie G. "People are looking!"

"Sorry, got a bit carried away there!" blushed JennyO, climbing down. "I just love Murray Hartin's poetry!"

"Now who'd like a devonshire tea?"