Thanks for Tanks

Want to make an impression? How about turning up in a tank? Should turn a few heads…

“GEORGE,” says Skol. “Go and check up on these custom tanks.”

“Yeah, boss!” I say as I collect the address thinking that it won’t be much fun taking pics of custom painted fuel tanks. 

Next day I’m on my way to see Greg whose workshop is in the Minchinbury industrial area. I cruise the street and can’t see any workshop that deals with painting fuel tanks; instead, half of the street it is a forklift workshop. I ask a guy outside the forklift workshop if he knows Greg.

“I’m Greg!” he says.

“Came to take pics of your custom tanks, mate!” I say. “How many do you have for the shoot?”

“Two!” he says and I’m wondering for fuck’s sake why I came here.

“Do you want to see them?” he asks seeing my slightly less enthusiastic face.

“Yeah, mate!” I say as I’m thinking of an excuse to justify my fast exit. “Where are they?”

He points towards a huge orange machine in the middle of the workshop and my jaw drops to the floor.

“fuuuuuuck!” is the only intelligent word that comes to my mind. “Why?”

He looks at me as I’m a retarded bum and answers, “Because I can!”

Well you can’t argue with the logic.

“I learnt my trade at Crown a while back then I started to repair forklifts, rent them and sell them. It was in 2004 while sitting on dunny badly affected by bourbon I came across a picture of a tank for sale. I just rang up the company and bought it. 

“During the next couple of years the joke became an obsession. By 2006 it was approved as roadworthy and I bought another one — although this time I was sober! 

“Both are 432 Trojan personnel carriers. The orange was made in 1963; the camo in 1965. Both have Rolls Royce engines but the camo is supercharged. 

“Now the hobby is a successful business hiring tanks and drivers for formals, birthdays, wedding, promotions, or anything else you want us to do.”

I look at the tanks and somewhere in my mind there is a faint recollection of an event I saw on TV. I’m not sure if I’m right but I ask, “Eh, wasn’t one of your tanks on TV a while ago?”

He looks at me and nods. 

Now I remember the scene on the TV set. It was a tank roaming Sydney streets knocking off the mobile phone towers with a cavalcade of police cars in hot pursuit.

“Fuuuuck!” I say.

“Yes,” Greg agrees, “That one was stolen and the guy knocked over half a dozen communication towers in the area. Finally they got him and put him in jail.”

“It was all over news!” I say, “They said it was because he was pissed off with a phone bill!”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that!”

“What do you mean? Tell me more!”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I might,” I say. “Which jail he is in?”

“He’s out now,” says Greg, “He’s my mate! I’ll call him and you can talk directly to him.”

“Fuuuuck!” I say and my jaw drops for a third time.

It doesn’t take long and I’m talking to the guy who took on the communication towers in the bizarre event that ended up in his arrest and half dozen communication towers out of order. Don Quixote and his battle with windmills springs instantly to mind…

John is an articulate, well spoken young man who doesn’t fit the description of a crazy man as the media was describing him. And he has words to prove it.

“I was working for a major communication company in the engineering department testing communication equipment and everything that involves around it. I noticed that my balance was getting worst every time I was close to a tower or large numbers of mobile phones.”

“How large?” I interrupt him.

“Say, more than 60 mobiles,” answers John. “Imagine a bus full of people and each of them has a mobile! If you’re sensitive to their radiation it will slightly fuck up your balance. You might not even feel it but you will unconsciously shift your balance while behind or overtaking it. Try it out!”

“Okay,” I say, making a mental note to see how much my balance is be affected next time I overtake a bus. 

“I’ve been measuring radiation for 30 odd years,” continues John. “I was doing it for already 20 years when I got sick in 1997 and had to stop working. I was intrigued by the increasing numbers of ill people and did some measurements. When I got the facts together, I went to my bosses with warned them of the high health risk coming from using mobile phones. I was told to stop my research or face the consequences. I didn’t stop and soon I was discharged. 

“It didn’t stop me from continuing my research and communicating with some authorities on the subject. I tried all the government levels; I was sent from one place to other; no one wanted to know me. Finally, I ended up in the Military Department in Canberra and was told in very certain words to fuck off and to deal with it in your local council area.

“As I was giving technological advice to Greg while he was building his tanks, I realised I had the perfect tool for dealing with it in the local council area. 

“Next day footage of a tank destroying towers around Mt. Druitt was broadcast all over the world. The big companies still maintain their attitude that radiation from mobile phone is not harmful but more and more experts are leaning to the opinion I was right.

“Fuuuuck!” I say and decide to share all what I learned with you.

Okay, back to Greg and his tanks. If you are looking for something special for your next wedding, formal, birthday, promotion, whatever, you should consider the mind-blowing effect turning up in a tank will cause. For more info visit: www.tankedup.com.au

Article by George

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