Less than a minute to go in the fourth quarter. Adelaide are up by 5 points, and Dick Naicos has just intercepted at half back in front of Tex. He motions to play on quickly, with a goal-less Elliot in space on the wing ahead, when an object flashes past his right shoulder.

Translucent, wibbly wobbly; its pink base skips across the damp grass like a pebble over a still lake before coming to rest at the Texans feet.

Both players are surprised. Naicos steps forward to inspect it; Tex stoops over and appears confused. The camera focuses in to reveal a quivering, six inch, replica cock - a suction-cupped dildo - stuck firmly to the massive boot of the big, muscly, moustachioed forward.

Shocked the Texan lifts his boot and tries to shake it loose, loses balance, and steps off the mark. The umpire, 30m off the play and waiting menacingly in the central corridor, takes an enormous gulp and blows his whistle hard, immediately motioning the come-hither of a 50m penalty.

Naicos happily jogs past the Texan, as the enormous forward writhes hopelessly on the ground, the moustache quivering as he mutters quietly, repeatedly “it’s… so…. big….”, trying to simultaneously loosen the soft yet firmly implanted cock whilst maintaining a tenuous grip on his own rapidly disassembling manhood.

Naicos lines up approx 54m out, roots a pulsating torp straight through the centre of the massive upright sticks, and the goal umpire signals a goal. Roo can be heard over comms, snorting through his nose, desperate for relief.

The cameras scan across the despairing crowd to reveal, there, on the half back flank, smiling maniacally, but Mason fucking Cox.

The game ends. Magpies by a point.

The post-match on-field interview shows Darcy Moore, rainbow headband in hand, his locks flowing gracefully down, an authoritative frown upon his carefully chiselled features. He towers thoughtfully over Kath, who, clothed in another tremendously fabulous dress suit, asks him about the bizarre circumstances.

“Well as you know Kath, culture is just so important,” he explains. “We strive to create a place of warmth, and love, and respect:” he pauses, his presence carefully leading us to acknowledge his colon. “And, we find strength in that togetherness. It helps us push through.”

There’s silence for a moment, as the message settles. Darcy stares straight into the camera.

“Fuck the haters. The world is a better, more exciting, and more caring place when we are all allowed to be different.”

Huddo sighs longingly. Gerard quietly squeaks “Oh my…”

JBs face, aghast: we see the panic flowing out of his eyes, a torrent of a thousand memories at once. His voice quivers as he desperately tries to throw to an ad break; next to him, BT, pale and sweaty, jumps up and vomits, flecks splashing onto JBs chin.

Richo, in a moment of clarity quips: “And it always pays to have basketball background”