Dildo Dani and Gonorrhoea Gail
who fought in jelly, stark naked, at the Titty Tavern in Petersham
No one ever meant for the Titty Tavern to be a landmark. But that sticky-floored, neon-lit purgatory between the kebab shop and the methadone clinic had a gravitational pull like Satan's own arsehole. You didn’t find yourself there—you ended up there, usually after your last functioning brain cell had handed in its notice and slithered off for a smoke break.
It was a Saturday night, drizzling like God’s bladder had sprung a slow leak over Petersham, and the usual crowd was well into their weekly routine of disappointment and regret. The place reeked of vape juice, despair, and old chicken salt. And that's when they arrived.
Dildo Dani—so named not because she liked them (she didn’t) but because she sold them, allegedly sourced from “reclaimed materials.” Her biggest seller was a fluorescent green thing she’d nicknamed The Hulk’s Thumb. She had an attitude like a kicked pit bull, tattoos she’d done herself with a Bic pen and a sewing needle, and a reputation for once headbutting a bloke so hard he shat himself.
Then there was Gonorrhoea Gail. She didn’t have it anymore, technically, but the name had stuck since the unfortunate incident at the Bankstown B&S Ball where she’d accidentally infected the DJ, two groomsmen, and the entire first row of a school choir with a single bottle of goon and a dare gone wrong. She was tall, loud, and had tits like a pair of overripe mangoes straining against a mesh singlet.
They’d been mates once. Tight, even. But then Gail had shagged Dani’s cousin Troy—who was also her ex, her weed dealer, and the drummer in their now-defunct feminist doom metal band Cervical Rinse.
So now they were enemies. Not just the petty kind, either. The kind of enemies who would happily see the other buried under a Woolies car park.
And that's why they ended up face-to-face, bollock-naked, in a plastic kiddie pool full of industrial-strength lime jelly, in front of a baying crowd of local degenerates chanting “TITS OUT, FISTS UP!”
The jelly smelt like cleaning products and old breath. Dani’s nipple ring caught the LED bar lights like a disco ball as she lunged forward, slipping on a clump of jelly and landing face-first into Gail’s left tit, which somehow managed to envelop half her head like a squelchy Venus flytrap.
Gail responded by gripping Dani’s bleached-blonde mullet and dunking her under the jelly like a naughty toddler. The crowd went feral. Pints were spilled. Someone started a fire in the pokies room.
Dani emerged, gagging and covered in fluorescent slime. “I’m gonna fucking end you, you syphilitic sack of regrets!” she screamed, before delivering a slap so loud it echoed off the urinals.
Gail retaliated with a knee to the groin—because yes, Dani had one of those too, tucked up tight but still very much there. The crowd howled. Two women passed out from excitement.
And then it escalated.
Hair pulling turned into biting. Slapping turned into gouging. At one point Dani tried to throttle Gail with her own bra strap, but the elastic snapped and twanged a bloke named Spanner in the eye. He didn’t even notice.
Eventually, the jelly pool tipped over in all the chaos, sending both naked warriors sliding across the sticky floor like slippery roast chickens. They barrelled into the dartboard, flattened two pensioners who were trying to split a bowl of chips, and crashed through the fire escape into the alley.
A hush fell over the pub.
Someone whispered, “They’ve killed each other.”
But no.
From the alley came the sound of wheezing, cackling, and the unmistakable slap of two bare arses on wet concrete.
They weren’t dead. They were laughing.
And then came the twist.
As Dani stood, triumphant and slick with jelly, she raised both hands like Rocky Balboa. And in doing so, she slipped on a chicken bone, fell backwards, and cracked her skull on a discarded Aldi trolly.
Dead.
Snuffed out by a bit of rotisserie chook.
Gail, stunned, stared down at her frenemy-turned-opponent-turned-corpse.
Then she shrugged, took a selfie, and went back inside.
She had a tab to settle.
R.I.P. Dildo Dani
Taken too soon by poultry-related slapstick.
Never did pay back that twenty bucks.