16 June 2027
Wednesday. Kev showed me the honour board today. Every fast group that’s ever got out of my dunny, in order, with their times and their names. First names only, Kev says. Privacy. I said, I don’t believe in privacy. Kev said, we noticed.
My name is not on it. Not at the top, not at the bottom, not anywhere. I asked why. Kev says you have to escape to get on it. I said I have never needed to escape my own dunny. I have the key. Kev says that’s cheating. I say that’s ownership.
The quick ones are something to see, I’ll admit. In and out like they’re late for a barbie. Most groups take a fair bit longer and squeak out near the end, with the sun just about gone. That’s my favourite kind. Maximum drama.
If two groups get the same time, the one that asked for fewer clues goes higher. I respect that. Asking for help is a sign of weakness. I have not asked for help since I lost Smoko in the woodpile, and that was mostly Smoko’s fault.
I have painted my own honour board on the dunny door. It has one name on it. Guess whose.
— Huge Axeman
