SCENE 1: Los Angeles
A dusty football pitch. Two poorly-kitted amateur teams of brownish people.
SANTIAGO MUNEZ sprints from his landscaping job and rushes up to his manager on the touchline.
SANTIAGO: I made it!
MANAGER: Oh. Great...
SANTIAGO: (winks) Up front? Want me to save the day?
MANAGER: We're actually winning 4-0.
SANTIAGO: Okay, I'll play right back.
MANAGER: Fine. Let's wait until after this corner.
SANTIAGO plays the last 17 minutes. He balloons several clearances into the street, which catches the attention of a bystanding British person.
BRITISH PERSON: Have you ever played professionally, son?
SANTIAGO: Let me think. (long pause) No.
BRITISH PERSON: If you can get yourself over to England, I can get you a trial with Gresley Town in the Greater Lingleton Thompson's Moving Services League.
SANTIAGO: That sounds terrible.
BRITISH PERSON: It is, yeah.
SCENE II: England
A team of grizzled, balding, tattooed 34-year-olds trains in rain and mud. SANTIAGO MUNEZ approaches nervously. The Team Captain approaches him.
TEAM CAPTAIN: Where YOU from, son?
SANTIAGO: Los Angeles. (Captain and rest of team laugh)
TEAM CAPTAIN: You think you know how to play this game?
SANTIAGO: (long pause. Steely glint comes into his eye) Yes.
TEAM CAPTAIN: (long pause) Could you teach us?
SCENE III: Some tart's bedroom
TART: I don't usually sleep with footballers.
SANTIAGO: Stop talking.
SCENE IV: Los Angeles
Santiago's little brother and father argue in Spanish.
BROTHER: Que pasa?
FATHER: Ola. Tortilla siesta.
BROTHER: Nacho! Adios burrito!
FATHER: Sombrero tostito!
SCENE V: Cup Final
SANTIAGO leads Gresley Town onto the pitch for the Greater Lingleton Senior Trophy Cup Final. Their opponents are local rivals Gresley United.
REFEREE: Pitch is waterlogged. Match is cancelled.
SANTIAGO: Thank God.
THE END
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