Cornwall. 10th August 2014. 14.50pm – 10 minutes before kick off.

Barbara, 96, and Hazel, 94, are sat in the living room waiting for the Community Shield to start.

BARBARA: So what’s this?

HAZEL: The Community Shield. It’s where last year’s league winners and FA Cup winners face off.

BARBARA: Right.

HAZEL: It’s tradition.

Barbara nods.

HAZEL: Ha. Barbara…

BARBARA: Mm?

HAZEL: The Community Shield. Doesn’t that sound like some kind of superhero group sent to protect the neighbourhood. Haha!

BARBARA: No.

HAZEL: Of course it does! Community SHIELD! Haha. Like, shielding the community from danger…

BARBARA: Sounds rubbish.

HAZEL: (Sighs) Go on then, beat it…

BARBARA: Street Slags.

HAZEL: Street Slags?

Barbara nods.

BARBARA: Street Slags.

HAZEL: Really?

BARBARA: Yeah. Say it like Ray Winstone. Sounds well ‘ard. We are the street SLAGS!

HAZEL: Makes you sound like prostitut-

BARBARA: Pretend to be a burglar.

HAZEL: Eh?

BARBARA: (Stands up) Stand up in front of me and pretend you’re a burglar.

HAZEL: Fine. (Stands up) Give me all your-

Barbara puts her hand in Hazel’s chest.

BARBARA: OI! Mug off you ster-reet SLAG!

HAZEL: Wait, that makes out that I’m the street sl-

BARBARA: STREET

Barbara head butts Hazel.

BARBARA: SLAG

© Carl Burkitt 2014