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Schools of Business, Accounting Programs, the AACSB accreditation standards, the accounting profession and society demand that we require ethical behavior and actions from our students, faculty and administration. Therefore, accounting departments desire to integrate into their programs a serious attempt to help students develop the skills and judgment with which to analyze situations and make ethical decisions.

Blowfeld killed three blowflies with his underpants. He had stepped out of them, ready to have a shower, when he saw the flies on the bathroom window. After he'd belted them, their bodies dropped into the empty bath, horrible indictments on the white porcelain. He grimaced, sluiced them down the drain, and stepped into the shower. Three more flew through the steam, and landed on his shoulder. Where had the bastards come from?This was the second day. He had to find the source. And the cat . . . where was Wagner? What had the bastards done with Wagner?The number of kills mounted fast. It was a hot day, and the air conditioner was droning, but the sun had gone off the casement windows in the lounge, so he pulled back the curtains to let in the light. A long line of ants dodged each other as they scurried along the windowsills between the mounds of dead blowies.Wagner, black with a seething mass of them, lay on the floor. Blowfeld slumped onto the couch and looked out the window. A wattlebird trumpeted and flew out of the bottlebrush at the edge of the front verandah. He wished he were a fucking bird. A man was lucky his wife was dead. Always complained about his swearing and the skid marks in his undies. She would have panicked and added to his woes if she were there.

Early onE Sunday morning, armed with a sledgehammer, a man strode around the back of our house and began laying into the frame of our bungalow. Chips of brick and concrete flew.I poked my head out of the doona and groaned. 'The Rock Farmer,' I said.My wife lifted her head and said, 'The what?' 'The Rock Farmer.' 'One of the posties from work?' 'I told him he could have the frame for firewood.' 'Jesus.' The word was a soft hiss as she pulled the doona over her head.I sighed and got out of bed. The whump, whump, whump of the sledgehammer became a march as I walked barefooted down the hall. To the tune of screeching nails being torn from the timbers I yanked back the kitchen curtain and yelled, 'Hey!'The Rock Farmer stopped and pushed back a lock of black hair, pulled a handkerchief that crackled as he forced it open, from his pocket, and wiped his brow. He kicked at a piece of brick with a Blundstone boot, saluted me with the sledgehammer, turned and laid into another stud.If you travel out along the Western Highway you'll go through Deer Park. Drive on past the display homes and the billboards advertising the new estates and you'll come to Rockbank. It's red dirt country where rocks still lay where they bounced after the Mt Cottrell volcano erupted.

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