This is a less than 500 word dialogue, a imaginary argument between people, if you lived in the UK, you may meet, may indeed be your friends. I hope that the characters feel real and that the dialogue flows. I have tried to avoid “he said”, “she said” type writing.
Two, tattoo resplendent passengers, accompanied by ripe smelling marijuana, boarded the bus. The clink of bottles in a Co-Op carrier bag, looking at the anonymous driver interrupting their boisterous laughter.
“two singles to town mate!”
“face mask, please put on your face mask”
sniggering, “what, we don’t need a face mask”
“sorry sir, everyone needs a mask”
smiling, “we are exempt, don’t need one”
“ok, where is your exception card”
sneeringly “we don’t need one, ain’t got one”
haughtily “look, SIR, there’s a global pandemic, you need a mask or proof you don’t need one, if you don’t have either, get off the bus”
putting his face upto the plastic shield “we don’t need a ‘ucking mask” looking round, “there’s no one on the bleeding bus, what difference does it make”
face getting hot his tie feeling tighter “look, it’s the law, I don’t make the law, I am just following orders, put on a mask or get off”
menacing, sensing fear “just following orders, what are you a ‘ucking Nazi,” looking at his tattooed companion, “we living in England or what? We can’t wear masks can we? We exempt, right?” his ally indicates acknowledgement through grunts and nods.
The uniformed driver regains his composure, looking between his two potential patrons “seems, your mate is a pillar of the community, erudite poet? both of you, off the bus”
Looking behind him, his tattoo morphing from a dragon to a knockoff red Pollock painting “don’t he look like Otto, you know Otto from the Simpsons, you know the stupid bus driver” his mate screams with laughter. “Look, Hitler, we’re not getting off, we don’t need a ‘ucking mask,” raising his hand brandishing his Metro Bank card of wealth “two stupid singles to bloody town. PLEASE DRIVER”
Battle lines drawn, belligerence, hostility, the bus stopped, engine off, new silence joins the trio.
Folding his arms over his rotund frame, the driver waits, impassive, stoic, calm signalled on his face.
“Oh, moron, start the bus, two singles to town”
Abruptly, the driver is silent, now a solitary argument, a tango for one.
knocking on the plastic divide, “look mate, two singles to town, don’t be such a wally”
radio crackles, indecipherable noise, driver unravels himself, pushes a button and says “Control, two PoB, no masks, abusive, refusing to wear a mask or get off” more crackles, more unintelligible half human speech “look guys, Control, my manager, has called the police, they are on their way”
“you called the ‘ucking cops, you, you sweaty looser, if I see you again, your mask is gonna cover up a few missing teeth, “ looking back, “common bud, lets get off, we’ll get a Uber”
Driver report,
Powerful Police, panicked,
Potential, passengers purged