On an urban street flanked by alfresco cafes and restaurants, young men in elaborately adorned cars repeat a circuit at low speeds, their sound systems blasting out popular tunes.

As always on a Friday or Saturday night, pedestrians and diners in the street comprise a huge crowd of spectators to this familiar ritual. One such car gradually begins to stand out from the rest, appearing more lavishly modified and accessorised every lap, eventually to the point of ridiculousness. Bubbles blow from the exhaust, filling the street, a puppet dog barks at pedestrians from the window of the car.

Bog Lap will be testosterone charged, fuel injected theatre out of its traditional context and in the public’s face. It will be unparalleled in its cultural relevance, uniquely Australian, and hysterically funny