~START~
The scene is set; two people are making their way along a dirt track cutting through an area of dense woodland. The air is crisp, the sky overcast, the trees rapidly changing into their autumnal garb. Ahead of the two women is an overexited black Labrador. Said Labrador is running for sticks. The reason he is running for sticks, plural, is because every time said Labrador chases after a - skillfully lobbed - stick, upon reaching it he promptly chews it up. This, after a time, causes the woman throwing (and struggling to find suitable replacements for) the sticks to become annoyed. Cue the following conversation...
ALICE: (at the end of her tether after yet another stick gets chomped) look for God's sake Bingo will you stop it!? It's not a hard concept; just bring the damn thing back! What, d'you think that sticks grow on...
MOTHER: (amused as Alice trails off) ...were you just about to say the word "trees"? You were, weren't you?
ALICE: (flushed pink) ...Yes. Yes, I was.
...Scene finishes with two ladies laughing at one lady's stupidity...
~END~
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