The streets of New Hobart were alive with celebration as Cosmo and Perd exited the old football stadium the Ivory Skull had once used as a base of operations. Since the liberation, the people of New Hobart had begun an almighty celebration that would have made any party planner proud.
As they began to walk through the city, people stared at their heroes in awe, most too shy to approach them directly. Others were braver, bowing before the Saviours of New Hobart, as they might one day be called.
“Thank you, oh, thank you,” said one bold elderly man, his beard almost down to his stomach. “I haven’t been able to offer service as a mechanic close to Hobart for years, with the Ivory Skull demanding such hefty taxes. I can start my business back up again with them gone.”
Throughout the afternoon, a couple of women even asked for the names of their heroes, then promised to name their firstborn children Cosmo and Perd in their honour.
Soon enough they found themselves at an old Hobart repair service workshop, which had been turned into a bar. It was an interesting place, with the skeletons of old vehicles scattered around to be used as seats and tables. The Old Rust Bucket certainly had charm to it.
“You see, Perd,” Cosmo said as they soaked up the atmosphere. “It’s like we’ve won the footy grand final here. The people love us. Mechanics weren’t free to practice their craft, people lived in fear of the Ivory Skull stealing from them, the bars weren’t safe, and most importantly, they were hoarding all the money. It doesn’t matter what that person said on the battlefield. We are the good guys here. Just look around!”
Perd glanced around the bar, then laughed. “I guess you’re right. We’re heroes! And just think, none of this ever would have happened if not for the fact that you gambled all your money away on horse races and needed a new job.”
Cosmo winked. “Turns out, those were the best bets I ever made.”