Oi Legends — we’re in a tiny hot shed, Tristan’s in his undies and the Long Island iced teas are flowing. Expect filthy banter, mics that won’t behave, weird callers, and stories about nudist beaches, bee swarms and dodgy pub food.

Come for the chaos, stay for the Bathurst plans, giveaways and beer-bong engineering. It’s like hanging with your loudest mates — pull up a chair, crack a cold one and let’s get into it.