Bruce Lockier nailed an empty sardine can under Ross Jolly’s chair in the Reading Room. Poor old Ross searched his room for days, but alas could not find where the stink was coming from.
Finally he went to Lockier and pleaded with him to reveal the hiding place.
What a dirty trick to play on poor old Ross
What about poor old Bob Miller. Yep another dirty trick saw Bob driven out to Kent Town by an unknown bastard store driver to sweep up the binding section.
The driver was to come back later and bring Bob back to the Old Guv.
Did that Bastard Driver return? No.
Poor old Bob had to catch a bus and carry with him his tools of trade, namely his broom, bucket and spade.
What a dirty trick to leave Bob stranded at Kent Town.
Bruce Lockier placed an imitation poo on the floor in the dunny of the comp room with wettish dunny paper placed strategically around it and informed the cleaner Angus to deal with it.
Angus was horrified upon viewing it and went directly to the overseer saying that was not his job.
On returning with the overseer the poo had magically disappeared.
What a dirty trick to place on poor old Angus.
Neville Gurr was so pissed off with David Lascelles being such a bloody know-all that he waited for him to enter the jobbing room dunny.
Neville then produced the largest fire cracker bomb and gently rolled it under the dunny door towards the feet of David.
He saw it coming and panic stricken kicked it away. The bomb was heard as far away as the Ludlow.
Bob Allen who was in the next cubicle picked three horse racing tips on his way up and back down.
Poor old Ken Davis in the other cubicle came out totally in shock wearing a face of total fear.
In fact, he never entered the dunny for three weeks.
What a dirty trick to play on Bob and Ken.
When I first spotted this guy strutting through the Comp room my immediate impression was that this guy must be high up alongside the Government Printer. On asking the senior apprentice Brian Hartshorne I was told that he was the Government Storekeeper in charge of all stores.
Wow, I thought, he must be one of the top men here. What a job – in charge of all government stores. Little did I know that he was just a stores clerk.
Years later, I purchased a block of land at Highbury and thought about placing a printed sign on the block. I needed a sheet of about 4-ply board. So off I go to the store and stupid me approached Peter Shepherd and asked for one sheet. He replied “Sure where’s your ‘chit’?”
Sadly, I did not have a chit and with that he gave me a dressing down and told me to never ever again ask him for anything without a chit.
I left devastated and bewildered and thought what an arsehole that man is. Later that day I sneaked back to the store and took what I required.
Around five years later Fred Hardwicke approached me and asked if I would typeset Peter Shepherd’s daughter’s wedding invitation, it had Nobby’s approval. I replied ‘Where’s his chit, Fred’? I then said to Fred that I wouldn’t set the invitation and told him of my episode with Peter Shepherd regarding one sheet of board.
Fred went red and said ‘I’ve always hated that man. He took off his apron, grabbed the copy and stormed off to shirt front Peter Shepherd.
On his return he was more red faced and said ‘I fixed up that bastard’ and went straight to Nobby and said ‘No one on my staff will set anything for that man’.
Later that day Ray Stagg, the disshand came up to me and said, ‘Thanks Riley. Now I have been told to set this up, Thanks a lot you Cruel Bastard’!
Bruce Kutcher was born at Kadina under the shade of the Wombat Hotel. He worked for a small print shop before moving to Adelaide and settling in at the Old Guv.
As a jobbing comp, Bruce was well skilled and no job was beyond his talent. He was placed under the watchful eye of Fred Hardwicke, who looked after and stood up for his group of comps.
Bruce loved his cigarettes and was a chain smoker. Some days he had a fag in his mouth, another on the Ludlow and one alight in his frame next to me. He also had a love for a beer and every lunch break was off to the pub.
Even on overtime, during the tea break he was off to the pub. Bruce won a prize in a Cricket Club raffle (3 bottles of sherry). Did he take it home? – well no, as Bruce and I consumed 2 bottles during OT. Boy! was I pissed. On arriving home I said to my wife ‘Hi I’m home’ and promptly passed out – she was not happy.
Bruce was a skilled fisherman – knew every knot in the book and often made up fishing lines for Fred and others. Bruce would take our wooden forme furniture and turn it into amazing ‘floats’ to take to fishing.
Some Saturday mornings Roger Francis, Bruce and myself would go to Outer Harbour to fish. It wasn’t long before Bruce would produce a bottle of grog and the fishing became enjoyable. One morning Bruce hooked a seagull and all hell broke loose.
Bruce was seen limping quite badly one morning on the Jobbing floor. On closer inspection Bruce Lockier informed Bruce that his shoes were on the incorrect foot. Another time Bruce arrived wearing two different brown shoes.
Bruce turned up one day clearly not well. Ron Evans told him to go to the Railways Tavern and have a stout and port wine poured into a glass. Hours later he returned so pissed that Fred ushered him to the bus stop.
Bruce and I used to buy fireworks in November, especially throwdowns, and constantly tossed them at others. Also flower pots, jumping jacks and squibs were tossed under the dunny doors causing mayhem.
Bruce loved the Cricket trips to Melbourne where he could drink constantly and one trip he fell out of the bus head first, missing all the steps.
Moving to Netley was Bruce’s downfall as the bus stop to Netley was close to the Majestic Hotel. He would alight from the bus from Nailsworth and enter the pub for a drink or two.
When he finally arrived at Netley Bert Cotton had sealed the doors, so if the doors did not open, Bruce just turned around and went off home via a pub or two.
In the end Bruce gave up coming to work as the doors were continually locked, his marriage broke up and he spent his final days living with his aged mother, yet Bruce was never sacked, simply taken off the ‘books’.
Some years ago The Toff callously inundated the late unsuspecting Bob Miller with a Tsunami of filthy, putrid water by deliberately driving his expensive Jaguar through a large pool of rain water outside the Rex Hotel.
Since then that evil bastard Toff has been looking for another victim.
He settled on Brian “Grubby” Hartshorne, with whom he had a long feud spanning some 50 years.
All over a bunch of bloody leaves, would you believe.
Anyway, we have a mind boggling graphic image from the day of the vicious incident where Riley the Toff finally settled up on his mate Grubby! (see above).
Shocking isn’t it? What a Bastard is the Toff.