(mystical music)
- Excuse me, Deciding Hat.
- Hat of Deciding, actually.
- Cool. So, you're a sort of hat who decides things.
How's it going?
- Better than this wine.
It's a terrible vintage.
And I don't know why I had them heat it up for me.
It's piping hot.
What is this serving glass?
A goblet of fire.
(laughs)
- Cool.
So, I'm here today to kind of talk
about a few complaints, I guess,
from the student body.
They're a little worried that their entire futures
hinge on the whims of a hat.
No disrespect.
- Who would they prefer decide their fate?
A Christmas stocking?
- No, because that's dumb.
- Make is quick, boy.
I'm beginning to decide that I'm bored.
And this hot wine isn't helping at all.
- I just feel as though we're maybe
fostering a lack of diversity amongst the school houses.
Possibly based on a personal prejudice.
- Prejudice?
I'm not prejudice.
I'm a hat of deciding, no less.
And I've decided that I've had quite enough
of your nonsense, boy.
Now run along and heat me up
some more of this terrible wine.
- No, we are far from done.
Okay. You see, all the kids with heroic qualities
you've put them all into Hero House,
which is great for them.
No complaints from Hero House.
You're kind of screwing over everyone else, right?
I mean, you take all the nerds put them into Nerdling House.
You pull all the morons into Dumb Dumb House,
which helps nobody.
You take all the ugly kids,
put them into Ooglo Booglo House.
And don't think I haven't noticed you put all the
big chested girls into Fun Bag Tittie House.
- What can I say?
The hat wants what the hat wants.
- And that's not even getting started on Evil House.
- Well, you don't want all the bad apples
poisoning the rest of the barrel, do you?
- No, I agree.
But you don't want them scheming off together
in a little dungeon.
Perhaps, if you took the bad kids,
put them with the good kids,
then some of those good qualities
would trickle over on the bad kids.
I mean, to that point, why do we even have a house
commemorating who is essentially our Hitler.
Maybe, just maybe, if we took those kids
and didn't tell them,
"Hey, day one, you're in Hitler House.
"Good luck, Matey Potatey,"
we'd have a few less dark wizards on our hands.
- I'll be cockhead (inaudible).
- It's a self fulfilling prophecy.
- Have at thee!
Oh, look. I'm about to decide where you should go.
Hm, interesting. I've decided that you're a big gay.
So, it's off to Poofter House with you.
It's been decided.
Poofter House for the bloody poofter.
- Hey, not cool you fucking homophobe.
- Oh, I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you defending minorities
over all of these gay thoughts of yours.
How gay.
- (laughs) Gay.
(screams)
(bottle clanking)
- Good day, mate. What do you know.
♫ Senator Geoff Quinn, you're as income as they come ♫
- Oh, yeah.
♫ Like bringing home the ashes
♫ and push tuckering your time ♫
- See that?
Heart on my sleeve.
♫ You're gonna win, Geoff Quinn ♫
- I'm Senator Geoff Quinn.
Are you like me?
Are you fed up with feeling scared, fearful,
in your own home?
I don't want to be scared in my home anymore.
- Good on you.
- We are being influxed and used,
fluttered with a mass immigration
of people who come from a deeply inappropriate culture.
Like the wizards sitting around their bums
changing the very fabric of the universe on a whim.
And they don't say anything, these polly waffle bastards.
They're not prepared to speak the truth.
That's my problem. If anything I'm too open,
I'm too direct, I'm too honest.
Kangaroo. Wallaby.
We feel the same thing, don't we?
Bilby.
Of course we do.
Beaconsfield miners.
Now, look, I'm not saying that all wizards are terrorists,
but every terrorist seems to be a wizard,
isn't that the case? Crikey!
♫ We'll make those mongrels flee,
♫ like we did at Gallipoli ♫
♫ You're gonna win, Geoff Quinn ♫
- I'm a parrot.
I love my kids,
and I'm looking forward to having grand kids,
but I tell you what,
I do not want to have a baby bones.
Get rid of that.
It's disgusting.
Crikey!
I'm a fish and chips shop owner
and thank you for your patronage.
I still have nightmares of that.
Fishy Thursday.
Bloody Gandalf the Grey,
why not Gandalf the Green and Gold,
you terrorist mong.
Uluru!
♫ It's a bloody beauty ♫
- We're gonna do the right thing
by our people at the ballot box.
♫ Who dares wins ♫
- Come on, let's do it!
We can work together.
We can stop the cloaks.
♫ You're gonna win, Geoff Quinn ♫
- You're a bloody bones of bloke, the tripe B.
- Love your work, mate.
- You're bloody welcome.
- Great song, mate.
- It's disgusting.
I can't believe he's getting so much traction.
- Worse that he's right.
It's a great song.
This day couldn't get worse.
First dad goes missing and now this.
He's right about us as well.
A couple of dark wizards really take advantage of the chaos,
and they fuck it up for the rest of us.
I'm not going home, I can't.
- The stories about wizards fitting in
just fine don't sell newspapers, Jack.
But you do have options.
Have you thought about starting a petition,
or you can canvas your local area.
- I'll never have the reach that he has.
He's already got the public in his pocket.
- Well, maybe it isn't the public you should be talking to.
(knocks)
- Hello sir, madam, Greek Grell, or other,
my name is Jack.
I am from the wizard realm, just like you,
but much prefer living here in Melbourne.
To better integrate into Australian society,
maybe there are some ways
that we can all tone it down a bit, blend in better.
Do you think there's anything you could do
to be making yourself a little less conspicuous?
- You know, I've never really thought about it.
I guess I could stop wearing this leather jacket.
It is a little threatening.
- Yeah, or, you know, you do live next to a petrol refinery.
(sirens wail)
Don't you think your neighbors might be a little anxious
living next door to somebody who,
you know?
- Frequently barbeques?
- Maybe.
- Because I'm not gonna stop barbequing.
I'll have you know my neighbors love my lamb cutlets.
- Your skull is on fire!
It's the peak of summer.
It is an arid farm land,
and you're a fucking ghost rider.
- Ghost writer, actually.
- What?
- I earn my bread writing biographies
for the rich and famous.
Why, I've just finished a memoir for
a very influential local chef, Curtis Stone.
Mayhap you've heard of him.
Here I'll sign you a copy.
- Give me Harry Potters, give me Harold Holt.
Give me Harold Holt back.
He'd be 98 now.
(knocks)
- Hello sir, madam, or other,
I am Jack.
- No.
- Oh, I haven't said anything yet.
- Bron know this land doesn't deal with spellcasters.
- Well, good thing I'm not here to play cards
because deal, poker.
Poker? Hardly knew her.
- You have the bearing of a man
with so much fire without flint or tinder.
- Well, that's a cool way to put it.
Yes, I am slash was,
but technically still am a wizard, nonpracticing.
- You take a long time to say nothing, Jack Stormcrow.
A barbarian does not take kindly to a man
who must cheat the elements for valor.
A true measure of a man is in the amount
of lives you can take before his is taken from him.
I'm yet to meet the man, woman, or beast
worthy of sending me to the sleep eternal.
My body provided feast for crow and worm.
- Isn't that a little bleak?
- That is the way of things.
- Okay, well, in Melbourne
we have these things called laws.
- Bronlo abides only by the code.
Hard laws of steel and conquest.
- And what do those laws allow?
- Rape, pillage, murder.
- Well, all three of those are terrible,
and the opposite of laws.
What is against the laws of barbarians?
(yells)
- Okay, well. If that was a gift, thank you.
If it was not, ow.
- I grow weary of your blathering talk.
By the iron of Crom!
- [Dying Person] Help me.
- I don't think this was his house.
- [Dying Person] Help.
- Ernie bloody dingo.
(knocks)
- Good day, mate.
- I spy with my giant eye.
- Cool.
- Holland Hanson.
Hanson.
Handsome.
She's a handsome woman.
- So, maybe stop turning art critics into stone
and selling them as sculptures.
- [Medusa] You just don't understand my work.
- Would you like to sample some champagne, sir?
- [Jack's Dad] What beautiful flesh tones.
- Oh, no thanks. I only drink bugs?
- That's cool.
- And if you just turn your attention away
from this lovely lady,
you'll see another fine piece of work.
This is a piece I call,
"Disappointment of a Son."
- Hey, dad, you could've told me
that this is where you wandered off to.
Trying to lay low, so, maybe just go home.
Stop pretending like you know about art.
- I am art.
Fine art, if I do say so myself.
And I do.
I'm even in a gallery.
- Okay. Well, at least get away from the nakedness.
It's embarrassing me in front of Medusa, man.
And she's cool.
- Where do you want me to stand.
Next to that giant bowl of fruit?
Or the surrealist section?
I don't like that.
It's weird.
The staircase is confusing.
The clocks are all slippery,
and the women's face is all in the wrong spot.
I shant be returning.
It's gross.
- I'll get the turps, dad.
Don't think that I won't.
- You'll never catch me.
I'll hide in the Where's Wally.
- Where's Wally already has a wizard, and he's the worst.
- Excuse me, sir, but there's no longer any need
to yell at the art.
- What did I just say?
- [Medusa] Facist.
- Mel Gibson.
I didn't like his early stuff, but I like his opinions.