NO.86 LIVERPOOL, ISLINGTON, LONDON.
MICHELLE: Pete? Did you pack the cucumber?
PETE: Definitely. Why?
MICHELLE: Can’t find it in the bag.
PETE: That’s annoying.
MICHELLE: Do you think we left it at the till?
MICHELLE: No worries. I’ll pick one up tomorrow. It’s not important.
SALAD SECTION OF SAINSBURY’S SUPER MARKET, LIVERPOOL ROAD, ISLINGTON, LONDON.
JENKINS: Mullins. Yo, Mullins! Mullins? Oh, Jesus…
MARTINS: What’s up, Jenkins?
JENKINS: MULLINS! Oh, man. I think they took Mullins.
MARTINS: No way…
JENKINS: I turned my back for one second. The animals!
MARTINS: Christ, we gotta tell Chief.
CHIEF: Gotta tell Chief what?
JENKINS: Chief! They’ve…they’ve taken Mullins!
CHIEF: They’ve taken Mullins? Are you sure?
JENKINS: He was next to me, I turned round, and now he’s gone.
CHIEF: God damn. Son of a bitch was two days from retirement.
MARTINS: What do we do, Chief?
CHIEF: Nothing we can do, boys. When it’s your time to be picked, it’s your time to be picked. And today was his time.
JENKINS: Surely we can do something!
CHIEF: Sorry, son. It was his time.
THE ALLEYWAY TWO MINUTES FROM NO.86 LIVERPOOL ROAD, ISLINGTON, LONDON.
MULLINS: I’m getting too old for this shit.
© Carl Burkitt 2014