It’s a dark night, a cold wind is blowing and a campfire flickers under the stars twinkling in the blackened sky.

Three hang-glider pilots are sitting by the campfire, one from Australia, one from South Africa and one from New Zealand.

Each is trying to prove they are the toughest. The night of tales begins…

Kiven the Kiwi says, "I rickon I must be the meanest, toughest, heng-glider there is, bro. Why, jist the other day I linded in a field and scared a crocodile, who came out of the swamp and ate six men who were standen close by. I grebbed the crocodile and wristled him to the ground and then killed him with my beer hends."

Hansie from South Africa pipes up, thinking that he has one better, and says, "Check it out, you guys: I lended orfter a 200-kilometre flight in my heng-glider on a tiny trail, and a Namibian snike slid out from under a rock and made a move on me. I grebbed de borsted with me bare hinds and bit ’is head off ind then sucked the poison from its body down in one gulp. End I’m still here standing next to you two in front of this fire today."

Bazza the Aussie remained silent, slowly poking the fire with his penis