Author: Angel Ruiz

THE POOL PARTY The pool was infinity-edged, overlooking Sydney Harbour, and had been described by Cath as “a celebration of friendship, healing, and the unblocking of funnels.” It had been described by Barry as “a mistake” and by Travis as “actually pretty nice, is that a heated pool?” Barry stood at the edge of the…

THE CARPARK The Bunnings carpark in Glebe was not, historically, a venue for combat. It had seen trolley disputes, the occasional heated argument over the last bag of potting mix, and one memorable incident involving a man and a runaway pallet of bricks. But it had never seen anything like this. Barry stood in the…

BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL PLUMBER CLAIMS FUNNEL ENVY WAS “MADE UP” The soundstage fell silent. Every phone in the room buzzed simultaneously, which is the modern equivalent of a record scratch. Barry, mid-monologue, cape halfway through a symbolic flutter, froze. “What,” he said. Rihanna was already holding up her phone. “Channel Nine. Sunrise. You need to…

Lady Gaga, Catherine Z.J. Rihanna, The Plumber and the Funnel Movie The Hollywood studio lot was a labyrinth of soundstages, trailers, and golf carts driven by people who looked far too important to be driving golf carts. Barry stood in the middle of it all, holding a script bound in fake leather with the title…

The Glebe Bookshop was a modest establishment on a quiet street in Sydney’s inner west, the kind of place with creaky floorboards and mismatched armchairs and a resident cat named Gerald who had opinions about everyone. It had never hosted a book signing quite like this one. The queue stretched around the block. It was…

The offices of Hyperion Publishing were sleek and modern, all glass walls and minimalist furniture and shelves displaying books by authors who had actually finished writing things. Barry sat in a leather chair that was far too soft for a man who spent his days crawling under sinks, clutching a notebook filled with his handwritten…

The United Nations General Assembly Hall was a cathedral of diplomacy, a monument to international cooperation, a place where world leaders gathered to discuss matters of grave global importance. Today, it was hosting Catherine Zeta-Jones giving a PowerPoint presentation about erectile dysfunction. The delegates sat in their assigned seats, wearing headphones through which translators furiously…

The Great Hall of Sydney University had never seen anything quite like it. Then again, the Great Hall of Sydney University had never hosted the annual Funnel Envy Conference before—a fact that was made abundantly clear by the confused expressions of the academics in attendance, who had expected a symposium on hydraulic engineering and were…

The morning after the hospital visit, Catherine Zeta-Jones found herself pacing her Milsons Point apartment like a caged tiger in silk pyjamas. The harbour glittered below, Luna Park’s painted grin seemed to mock her with its frozen mirth, and somewhere in the distance, a ferry horn blared its indifference to her spiralling thoughts. She had…

The morning sun over Sydney Harbour was gentler than the previous day’s blaze, a soft apology for the emotional carnage of the afternoon before. Catherine Zeta-Jones stood at her floor-to-ceiling window, watching the ferries cut white trails across the water, and felt something she hadn’t expected: hope. Or perhaps it was just the caffeine from…