Written for the Writing Lines Spring 2011 Drabble Challenge
"I'm just saying, reality is not her friend."
"Mhmm."
"A hundred bucks a head? No one will pay that for some crap spumante, limp sandwiches and the honour of meeting an ageing footballer and his bit of stuff; I don't care if it is for charity."
"Yeah. Shame that."
Tim put down the dish he was drying and looked at Rob.
"Do you even have a clue what I just said to you?"
Rob's mouth worked as he struggled to respond.
"Chillax?"
Twisting the tea towel, Tim flicked him across the back of the leg. "Doesn't work for you, either."
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