"And in other news, Australian zoologists have managed to capture the fabled Yowie. Down by the little outback town of Canyapassabeermate, a local dingo trapper found more than he bargained for in one of his cage traps."
They cut to the live feed where the only person wearing corks on their hat was the American newscaster.
"G'day from down under," she cheered, blatantly ignoring the winces of contact embarrassment from the surrounding Australians. "Today the entire world gets to look at Australia's very own marsupial bear!" Kids behind her mugged for the camera.
The cage was improvised, and made mostly out of someone's backyard. Chicken wire between four tall posts contained not one, but a group of three... animals.
It looked like a Kangaroo and a Wombat had got together and had tried to Bear, and got some very essential details completely wrong. The least bearlike of the trio was the skinny little joey, just beginning to explore the world outside its mother's pouch.
The mother lounged on the thin grass eking out an existence on the Canyapassabeermate soil, and ate a branch of a Bottlebrush with the mechanical resignation of a species that doesn't have much past Bottlebrushes to eat. The eldest of her young lounged against her and periodically tried a leaf or two to see if their flavour had improved.
"Herbert Galleywoo, you caught these creatures?"
"Galleywo," he corrected. "Nah yeah, I was tryin' t' catch th' dingoes that've been goin' about and muckin' things up, right. They're an absolute bugger when the tourists've been feedin' 'em. Bloody yanks. Savin' your presence. Anyway, I was up, crack'a sparrow fart, checkin' th' traps and there's this bloody great noise." He tried to imitate it, only to be corrected by the mother.
Turns out that the name 'Yowie' is completely onomatopoeic. And nothing close to the blood-chilling noise that actually issued from the animal's throat.
"Yeh, like that," said Herbert, not turning a hair. "So I went and looked and there's these three. I figured it might be worth a few bob t' get 'em checked out by Parks an' Wildlife... Didn't know I had a new species on me hands. Now there's all sorts comin' up here and hopin' t' catch a breeding pair 'n' all. Wanna know what me bait is."
"And -uh- what was your bait?"
"Hot dogs 'n' peanut butter. Bloke at Parks 'n' Wildlife reckons they're omnivores, but I reckon they're too bloody lazy t' actually catch much."
As if to prove his words, the mother Yowie closed her eyes and dozed off. Bottlebrush still in her mouth and front paws.
The newscaster on the spot had to close out over the sound of the town kids all trying to outdo each other at Yowie Calls.
 I want to hear Americans trying to pronounce this, ngl.