So I'm slangin on the street corner shining up my wares, got a few photos on display you know. This chump steps up like "whaddaya got playa?" I look him up and down, scoff under my breath and fire back "depends who the fuck wants to know?"

"They call me brandnewteeth, hook me up with the special stuff. I been hearing things." he replies, puffing his chest out. I cock an eyebrow, weigh this for a moment, spit at his feet and with a tilt of the head beckon him over. From below my cart of shiny treasures I pull a small wooden box, plain in construction with a simple brass clasp. Tenderly I ease it open, remove a faded 6x4 print and hold it up. "You want some of this eh kid?". He leans in for a closer look and gasps. Eyes alight he stutters "T-t-tell me m-m-more".

Long long ago, before ekweleks and I hit the pro draining circuit and hooked up full factory spono from Petzl and Teva I ran with a bunch of scumbags. Real fucking dirtbags you know. We were the grimiest kids on the block, hell even RA The Rugged Man was on our nuts.

We weren't chasing fame but real recognises real round our parts and pretty soon Picture Mag came knocking on our door. For the unfamiliar Picture is cherished by construction workers, crane operators and tumbleweed makers everywhere as the pinnacle of cheap pornography. Stretch marks, crooked teeth, home gals (and home blokes) and dirty local shielas. When you climb exhausted into the cabin of a construction crane and slump breathlessly into the operators chair you can bet your ass a sticky, well loved Picture Magazine will be there to greet you. It's top fucking notch mate.

To cut to the chase: Picture mag wants us, little old brisbane clan to be pimps. Can WE be pimps? Shit son we got that shit on tap. Bats, gats, clits, tits and clips we own all that shit.

We rolled into the meeting spot iced out, bumping hydraulics in the ghetto ride. Rocking enough fake gold to shame Mr T, magga was pumping the oldschool rap from the cherry red sigma. millsi rolled in Bluebird scraping the ground and shooting sparks. We shot some dice under the solitary street light and awaited the rendezvous.

The photographer and the model rocked up and knew the dealio - we aint hard to pick, our shine was like a beacon. We lay down the law, sorted the logistics and got to work. This is our show. We blind fold the guy and the model, toss em in the trunk and mash the hell outta there. Is that screaming coming from the boot? Someone pump that stereo.

Roll into the spot, flick off interior light from 'door' to 'off'. No need to announce our appearance to anyone. Quiet street, dimly lit park, no cars, it's on for young and/or old. The guy and the model dont resist much, they know the score. Noone talks, noone needs to. Ekweleks pops the hatch with his fingers, farken tuff cunts in brisbane eh. Representing for the russian contingent millsi sports the night vision and checks we ain't being watched. Toss the people down the hole and succumb to the underground.

The photo guy gets to work, he knows his equipment and the model knows her job. We stand back and let em do their thing for a while. she moves like a pro and the guys in step. The clothes come straight off and shes enoying the underground warmth. Her stretch marks glow alluringly under the tungsten lights. From within the folds of our clothing we pull our masks, anonymity is the first priority. Winnie the pooh, skeletor, condorman, gasmask and tigger in full effect for the evening. The mood lightens a touch as everyone relaxes.

The guy is old hand at this and is on point every time the model tenses up. His game is nothing short of spectacular.

"yeah you're beautiful love, spread your legs a little more. Someone shine a torch on her cooch".
"Just move your arm so I can see them titties love"
"Someone get down and shine the torch through her legs"

She doesn't flinch. A bit of flattery and the inhibitions fall away. This guy delivers it so naturally we were the ones blushing. Nothing was beyond the call of duty: spread on a cold step iron, knees in the stank ass water, half naked climbing out a manhole. She just took it all in her stride - what a gal.

Photo shoot complete everyone's going their seperate ways. The guy scribbles some stuff for the article, wonder if anyone will actually read the words when there are such beautiful drains in the photos beside them. We dumped the guy and model at the side of the road, who knows where they end up? They'd been to the other side and back. And what of the brisbane ninjas? The nights still young so we wander off, seeking adventure in the dark. Naked girls in drains or not there are rumours to be killed and tunnels to be violated.

dsankter 2003

pics by PM photod00d.

Article scans:
Cover - Page 1 - Page 2

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