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Nancy Drew carted a dolly full of paint, markers, crayons, and more into the meeting room at the golf course. Collin McKinley followed shortly behind, lugging a hefty bin of assorted craft materials. Standing all around the long conference table were the Bondi Boys and Babes, an unbroken perimeter of denim jackets. Many of them shot curious glances at the art supplies, unsure of what they were for.
Usually, this was a location known for stormy meetings and drama. Countless high-decibel Australian-accented shouting matches had taken place here. It had gotten to the point where just the phrase “golf course” felt like a curse.
However, on this day, Nancy hoped the atmosphere would be a little more congenial. Having access to such a great space but only using it rarely for meetings struck Nancy as such a waste. Always a planner, she suggested an idea to the Vice Prime Minister that might give the space more life (and maybe a less daunting reputation too). Barry was always amenable to a good suggestion when it came from Nancy, far more than the actual Prime Minister himself.
She wheeled her cart to the end opposite the club’s leaders. Pushing up her glasses and fixing her braids, Nancy adjusted to the frankly arresting sight of over a dozen rugged outlaws all dressed in coordinated kuttes. It didn’t phase her too much though. As an experienced businesswoman, Nancy had headed many a conference table in her day. Irwin Dundee, a menacing man with a mohawk, gestured to her warmly, “As you all know, this is Nancy.”
“Hi Nancy,” replied the gang members in unison, like some sort of terrorist kindergarten class.
He continued, his voice booming as usual, “As Prime Minister, together with the Vice Prime Minister, we have decided to collaborate with her for your enrichment. We are testing a new club bonding activity: Wednesday Arts and Crafts.” Dundee was genuinely delighted now that he had come around to the concept, despite his own lack of aesthetic talents.
Reactions seemed heavily split. Some squinted in suspicion, wondering if the announcement was a joke. Still others, like the artistically gifted Finley Milton, seemed enthused. His face broke into a broad, toothy grin. Finn’s mother, Stevie, was a fellow excited artist, having designed posters and tattoos in the past. Her eyes shone upon hearing the idea, and she eagerly scanned the vibrant array of supplies that Collin and Nancy had brought.
Like a well-oiled machine, Collin hoisted the various craft bins onto the table, while Nancy fanned out the materials for everyone to select from. They had a natural fluidity when working together, a fact that could be attributed to the strength of their legitimately healthy relationship. “I contributed some Nailed It money to this shit, so you better enjoy it!” laughed Collin, flexing a tattooed bicep. Nearly fifty years old, he finally felt a real sense of accomplishment. In particular, the aging cowboy was proud that his hardware store was doing well enough to start giving back to his club.
Nancy snickered, “Yes, and I also contributed a bit, as did Benson’s Backalley,” winking at the tall man at the end of the table with her last words. Although his expression was a bit inscrutable past his sunglasses, Nancy knew Barry liked her help, even when it meant an afternoon with a bit less criminal action.
“So you’re all free to choose whatever supplies seem best to you, and don’t worry about making a mess,” she instructed in a friendly tone. Spread across the length of the conference table was a diverse array of art supplies. They had obviously spared no expense. Everyone sat down and contemplated what to choose.
The first person to take anything was Chip Wheeler. His eager eyes were immediately drawn to the multicoloured dried macaroni. “Hell yeah,” he said, taking some noodles as well as paper and glue. “I’m gonna make a macaroni dong!” He immediately got to work on his silly phallic opus.
Slowly, each member started to take what they needed for their creation. Covering his sheet of paper with white and silver glitter, the gang’s best drug cook explained to the blue haired woman beside him in a dreamy sigh, “I’m trying to make it look like meth.”
“That’s nice, Antonio. Good job,” replied Fey, as she painted worrying streaks of red. A former serial killer, Fey had a distinctly dark sensibility, but the blood red stripes appeared to bring her joy, so why judge?
Across the table, Junior Meats cheered, “Say less!” and seized some dark markers. He started drawing intricate geometric designs, reminiscent of Samoan tattooing. He clearly had an eye for fashion in his flawless outfits, and that flair translated superbly into his sketches.
Jesse Reed and TJ Walker were sharing crayons to doodle sunflowers and clocks, respectively. There was some light teasing and a few playful shoves, as each one kept sneaking scribbles onto the other’s paper. Beside Jesse, there was a small pile of crumpled stationary. Edbert had taken it on himself to fold an origami raccoon, representative of his beloved Scraps. The discarded prototypes, he reasoned, could be a good garbage nest for the finished raccoon anyway.
A rainbow of markers were laid out where Finn was sitting. He was drafting another Hellion livery, although this one was just for fun. Bold pinks and bright greens covered the paper as he tested out garish watermelon motifs. “That looks so good!” squealed Stevie, seeing her son’s charmingly tacky artwork. She had a pencil in hand and was rendering a stylized portrait of loved ones she had lost, Olivia and Jordan. She took patient care to shade in their features as best she could remember them.
At the head of the table, Dundee was using a crayon to do… something. The page looked like a complete disaster, but he seemed focused and content. “Dee, what are you drawing?” asked Barry, barely disguising a giggle. His own page was covered in cute depictions of his dog, Coppa, in pen.
“You can’t tell? It’s a roo!” retorted Dundee. There was definitely nothing on that page that was recognizable as a kangaroo, and Barry howled with mirth. The mess of squiggles was stunningly ugly. He knew it had to go on the fridge, next to all their other cherished family memories.
Nancy looked at this large group of felons, all cheerfully enveloped in their own little art projects. They might be killers and thieves, but there was something truly heartwarming about this gang. The room was filled with laughter and jokes. Each individual expressed their creativity in such a unique way. It would certainly surprise most of the city, who often saw Bondi members as identical Dundee-following drones. Nancy leaned back against the wall and beamed. Wednesday Arts and Crafts had been a success!