The call echoed across the Red Centre: Uluru had run dry of sandstone. “No stone left!” came the urgent cries.
A cheeky local piped up, half-serious, “Why not just take a chunk off Uluru? There’s plenty to go around!”
But from the back of the room, a stern voice cut through the chatter: “Don’t be ridiculous, Macca. Just call Deano—he delivers.”



