(scene: the local market. It is a sunny Friday morning. Outside the nearby newspaper stall headlines proclaim "It's ours!" and "Thanks Lads" under pictures of the AS Roma team celebrating their cup win. Two LITTLE OLD LADIES are queuing to buy fruit and veg. Both have wheeled shopping trolleys and are visibly frail. Queuing behind them - and eavesdropping - is a PRINCESS of the Spangly variety.)
Old Lady 1: [gumbling] I tell you it's a disgrace, I couldn't get to sleep for hours.
Old Lady 2: What do you mean a disgrace? It's only right and proper.
OL1: They're all deliquents! Hooting their horns, singing all night... It's disgusting.
OL2: Rubbish, you need a bit of partying, don't you? It's been sixteen years. We were due something to celebrate.
OL1: When we won the Scudetto in 2000 there was none of this nonsense.
OL2: That's because you have no fans! [cackles evilly]
OL1: [adjusts headcarf petulantly] Don't be so stupid we have plenty of fans.
OL2: [still cackling] so where were they then? where were all your blue and white flags, hey? Look around you, this city is red and yellow.
[pause whilst OL1 buys a kilo of tomatoes and fusses over the choice of a lettuce]
OL2: It's just that we are real fans who know how to support our team.
OL1: [selecting strawberries] We don't keep people up at night, that's what, we're not deliquents.
OL2: You have nothing to celebrate, that's why you don't keep people up at night.
OL1: Your lot are off knifing people all the time! Vermin! Hooligans!
OL2: [huffy] They're good boys, good boys I tell you. Don't believe what you read in the papers.
OL1: [sensing weakness] Delinquents!
OL2: [provoked] Better a delinquent than a laziale!!