‘Yeaaaah! Go Reapers!’ shouted Steve’s friend ‘The Yonkers suck!’

‘Yeah, they’re losers!’

‘They’re a good team’ said Steve ‘Don’t underestimate them’

‘What? Nah! Reapers’ll mop the floor with ‘em!’ while this discussion was going on Chelsea was simply playing games on her phone.

‘What do you think, honey?’

‘Oh, it’s a game that can go either way, I suppose!’

‘Aww, girls no nothing about football!’ Chelsea gasped upon hearing his words.

‘Do not degrade her like that’ said Steve ‘Any other thoughts?’ a smile returned to Chelsea’s face.

‘Well, there will be lots of tackles! And hugging! And commercials’

‘You’re right about the commercials part’ said Steve’s other friend.

‘Couldn’t you record this and then just skip them?’ everyone looked her, looking totally aghast.

‘No!’

‘OK-OK! Forget I said anything!’ the match began, for the first ten or so minutes nothing really happened, the game was more or less in equilibrium. In the twelfth minute the California Reapers appeared to be in a good position to score a touchdown; one of the players was within the scoring zone of the field and a pass was made to him. He dropped the ball, however.

‘What?! How could he drop that?!’ yelled one of Steve’s friends ‘My granny could have caught that!’

‘That was quite unfortunate, I must admit’ said Steve ‘They’ll have another chance, given how this game is going’ as he was saying that the New York Yonkers were gaining ground through the field. One of their players was running with the ball, only to be tackled very hard by an opposing player. He landed right on the back of his head.

‘Oooooh!’ exclaimed all three of them

‘Did you see that?’ queried one of Steve’s friends, looking at Chelsea ‘He just speared the shit out of him’ Chelsea had a look at the television. The player who got tackled was escorted off the field. He hardly looked as if he were able to stand, let alone walk.

‘Do those helmets really help?’

‘Yeah, they do’ Chelsea was gazing at the television, with an anxious look on her face. After a while the game resumed and the other team had the ball. Not long afterwards, they had scored a touchdown..

‘No! You gotta be shittin’ me!’ yelled one of Steve’s friends. He was almost screaming. Steve simply looked disappointed. As this was going on they scored the field goal. ‘Oh of course! Faggots’ Chelsea rolled her eyes and had her attention back on her phone. Not too long afterwards the California team were pressing forward quickly and scored a touchdown. The kick taker however missed his field goal. ‘Oh bullshit! How much are we paying for that guy?!’

‘Too much’ said Steve’s other friend.

‘Everyone is capable of a mistake’ said Steve.

‘What?! That’s all that guy does! He can’t do his goddamn job?!’ Chelsea groaned and went over to the kitchen. She took out a bottle of vodka, returning to the living room with it. ‘One and a half million dollars a year?! Unbelievable!’ Chelsea immediately gulped down some of her vodka as she heard him say that. The game continued onwards, with both sides occasionally scoring touchdowns as well as gaining field goals as well. It all continued until the final few minutes of the game, where the California Reapers were one point behind and were pressing through the field. Steve and his friends all looked completely flustered, and were constantly yelling at the television as the match was playing. Though in the last minute of the game, the California Reapers scored a touchdown.

‘YEAH!’ they shouted, jumping out of their seats. Chelsea took another swig of vodka as they did so. She had drunk about a quarter of the bottle at this point. As they were celebrating the match had ended, which had no obvious effect on their feelings towards the moment. They continued to celebrate, though all of a sudden, the channel on the television had changed. The word “Congratulations!” was showing in a blocky yellow font.

‘Congratulations!’ said a manly sounding voice ‘Your team has won tonight’s match! Congratulations! Get a life! You pathetic losers!’ Steve and his friends stopped celebrating, gazing at the television screen, looking aghast. Chelsea was doing the same thing. Eventually she burst out laughing. Steve’s two friends were gazing at her, with a look signalling absolute horror.

‘She’s from New York’ said Steve ‘Don’t be upset’ Chelsea was still laughing. The television changed back to what it was originally, with the California Reapers players celebrating their victory while the New York Yonkers were gazing at the ground in defeat.

‘Who’s holding the remote?’ asked one of Steve’s friends. The remote controller was on the table where Steve had his beer.

‘Not me’ said Chelsea.

‘Let’s not worry about that’ said Steve ‘It’s another win for the Reapers, after all’ his two friends still looked miserable. They left shortly afterwards.