All of the residents of Miller's billabong lived quite happily:
Some had cozy burrows; some lived high in the treetops; some lay beneath the stars, which shone jewel-bright when the lights of day went out. Just a small way beyond Dingo's creek, the parched earth fell away to nothingness. No animal - not even the smallest bilby - dared venture up to the edge to peer over it, lest the dirt beneath them give way. The proud, vain budgerigars stayed well clear of the place, for beyond 'the edge,' land and sky ceased to exist - a bit like when you add milk to tea and you can't tell which is which anymore. 

As I say, all animals were happy... except one.
The brown snake walked around on his stout legs, glaring at everyone who looked at him. He had a mean face, with mean emerald eyes and a mean pointed snout. While the other animals played, brown snake sulked in his den. While the other animals ate, brown snake sat by the water, hissing at anyone who passed. While the other animals slept, brown snake prowled the land, looking for stray mice to bite. Brown snakes - as you'll discover - like solitude, and they also aren't very nice.

Days, or perhaps years, passed - you see, time wasn't always as disciplined as it is now - and brown snake hatched a cunning plan. Wouldn't it be nice to have this whole billabong to myself? he thought. The next day, brown snake was up at dawn decorating all the gum trees, painting all the stones and hanging a great big banner between two sturdy tree boughs that read "Miller's billabong's first annual pinata bonanza." Many of the animals were initially taken aback, as it is not a very brown-snake-like thing to throw a surprise pinata bonanza. It's about time we had some real fun around here, cried snake jovially. The animals were pleased to see this new side of brown snake, and forgot their inhibitions. Brown snake procured a large number of blindfolds from a bag in his den and handed one to each animal. Why are we putting them on now? asked some of the animals, we haven't even seen the pinatas yet. It's a special surprise, said brown snake, just follow my voice everyone!

After some bumping, pushing and many squawks from disgruntled budgerigars, the animals formed a straggling line with straggly tails and straggly limbs. Brown snake hopped excitedly ahead, leading the blindfolded line with his voice. Not far now, he called, as they passed Dingo's creek. He hissed a cheerful tune to himself, thinking of all the space he would soon have. Alright, he finally said, we have reached the pinatas! Remember not to peek now. Nobody did. Brown snake guided the group steadily towards the edge of the great void, his tail vibrating excitedly. He was so excited, that he forgot he was still leading the group.

Suddenly, he felt a horrible plunging sensation. The earth beneath him had fallen away, leaving nothing but air below him. He fell, howling, down the sheer cliff face. He began scrabbling furiously at the rock, trying to stop falling. The animals were startled by all the racket and took off their blindfolds, just in time to see the brown snake running as hard as he could up the side of the cliff. He ran so hard up that cliff that by the time he reached the top, there were only smooth scales where his legs used to be.

The animals, horrified by what the snake had tried to do to them, left him at the edge of the world. Many were also disappointed by the absence of pinatas. Ashamed and angry, brown snake slithered away to find a new home.

To this day, the brown snake lives alone, and has never regrown his legs.