NO.86 LIVERPOOL, ISLINGTON, LONDON.

MICHELLE: Pete? Did you pack the cucumber?

PETE: Yep.

MICHELLE: Definitely?

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?

PETE: Probably.

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