Troy Hawke does a deadpan comedy bit at a Jet petrol station, greeting customers and riffing on their cars, clothes, and road trips. It's a teaser for his upcoming Big Bash appearance.
Foreign. Welcome to Jet. You're a phalanx of complimentary shades of blue. Welcome to Jet. Your hair has an admirable bounce. Oh, thank you. What guy you are. What are you doing welcoming people into a petrol station? What do you think? That was a wonderfully smooth bit of parking, sir. You just glid in there. Knife and butter. No messing around whatsoever. Welcome to Jet. Thank you for the cheeky eyebrow raise as well. It's a deaf gesture. You've deployed that often, I'm sure to great effect. Thank you for shopping at Jets. I said thank you for shopping at Jet. Look at you, the captain of the A1. Hello there. Why do you look like you're up to mischief? Congratulations on not skipping leg day. I saw you maneuver that Arctic down there like it was a motorbike. Thank you very much. You have a fabulous wingspan, wonderful reach. You're wasted if you're not in combat sports. Look at you, shaking your head. No, no, don't compliment me, whatever you do. I couldn't bear a compliment. Adorable creature. There he is. Gold capped, tightly packed, legend of the forecourt and full. Well, you know you are absolutely. You have far to travel today? No, on my road trip. You're just going on a road trip? Why not? The road's there. Here he is, the Godfather of Catterick. Can I get a fist bump, sir? You're the fool. He never gets how old I am. You're either younger than I think or older than I think. So I'll go for 32. No, I'm 29. Do a wheelie. Do a wheelie. Go up on one side. M. Have a good day. You enjoy your road trip. I love that, by the way, because road trip, the implications are on the journey as opposed to the destination. That's the right way round. At that road. At it.
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