You win a competition to replace Dr Chris Brown as the star of TV show Bondi Vet. Unfortunately,

your contract is cancelled after you perform surgery on a pet rabbit and it quickly becomes apparent

that you have no medical training whatsoever. Not only does the rabbit die, you also manage to kill

five gerbils, three dogs, a wombat and a cat named Mr Biggles in just one episode before TV bosses

finally pull the plug.


You and a group of friends book tickets to a ‘90s nostalgia night. You spend the evening mourning

Princess Diana, using dial-up internet and listening to ‘Everything I Do’ by Bryan Adams on loop.


In a Hannah Montana meets Fight Club situation, you discover that you have a split personality who

takes control of your body at night. When you think you’re asleep, what you’re actually doing is

touring the world as long-tongued pop star Miley Cyrus. You can’t be tamed!


They say home is where the heart is, and so it proves when doctors discover a colony of microscopic

parasites inside your aorta.


When Daniel Craig pulls out of the new 007 film over script issues, you become the surprise choice

of movie studio bosses to become the first transgender Bond.


Dressing up as Bill Cosby for Halloween is wrong on so many levels, so don’t say I didn’t warn you

when you’re viciously beaten by a bunch of offended women on the night. Ironically, as you lie in the

hospital barely consciously and unable to move due to all the pain-relief drugs in your system, you

are “interfered with” by a perverted doctor on the wards. Let’s just say the saline drip isn’t the only

salty liquid to enter your body that night.


Convinced that World War III is imminent, you decide to become a “prepper” survivalist, and start

stockpiling tins of food and camping equipment in the woods, even building a secret nuke-proof

bunker in some nearby bushland in preparation for the coming Armageddon. When the bombs start

to fall, you immediately bolt to your just-completed bunker and prepare to wait out the nuclear

winter by living on a diet of beans and spam for the next 20 years. Unfortunately, you’re forced to

adapt your plans somewhat when you discover Shane Warne is already in there. Apparently he’s

been using the bunker as his own personal sex hideaway and has just said farewell to the latest

anonymous leggy blonde he’s been knobbing after calling her an Uber. You spend the next two

decades locked inside a small, damp cellar listening to him recount his sexual exploits, explain in

detail about how he executed the ball of the century, and drone on about how popular he was with

everyone in the I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here camp. After less than five minutes alone with

him, you begin to envy the people whose faces melted off in the initial nuclear blast.


They say blood is thicker than water, and so it proves when doctors discover blood in your urine

during a check for kidney disease.


The weather is warming up and the days are getting longer, which can only mean one thing – climate

change is real and the ratio of work-life balance is getting horribly skewed.


You wake up one morning to discover you’ve become a yeti-type creature covered in hair and 7ft tall

with a distinct sloping brow. Shunned by society, you become a recluse, holing yourself up in the

attic of St Mary’s Cathedral in Sydney and living off a diet of pigeon droppings, pigeon eggs and fig

rolls. The good news is the condition will wear off in the next eight to ten years. Huzzahs!


Your attempts to lose weight through a steady routine of healthy eating and going to the gym hit a

snag halfway through the month when North Korea fires nuclear missiles at America, sparking World

War III. In the subsequent post-apocalyptic dystopian future, you are forced to eat carbs to survive.


As a result of your whiskery facial hair, you are cast in the role of Rumpleteaser in the next Broadway

production of Cats.