New kid at The Playground [PIPBERT]

Peanuts and Pickles

KNOCK KNOCK

"Ello there, Mister Pocket!" Pip waved.

"Oh! Hello there Mister Pip!" Pocket greets the other with a tight hug.

"Mister Pocket!" Pip breathed out, "You must be in a rather good mood today..!"

"Indubitably!" Pocket smiled, "I've made the house jolly spiffing today so you feel right at home!

"Oh how jolly!" Pip squealed, "What shall we do today, old chap?"

"I have a plethora of things planned, indeed." Pocket explained, taking Pip's jacket and putting it in the coat room. "We can partake in a delightful dinner, engage in video games, or indulge in a spot of football in the garden."

"Football would be fun!" Pip exclaimed.

The two change into more sporty clothing and go outback to the garden. Well, the 'garden' wasn't a garden in any normal sense. Since Pocket had just arrived in the US he hadn't had time to plant anything yet. Not to mention, the Colorado winter didn't really help matters. This particular day wasn't too bad, but it was still cold.

"I haven't played socc— er, football in awhile so my uniform is a bit dirty." Pip explained, walking towards Pocket.

Pip had on a basic red Liverpool jersey, having Dalglish on the back with his iconic number 7. Moving down, he had on a matching red pair of sweatpants to combat the very cold Coloradan day ahead of them. Finally, Pip was wearing.. bright rainbow..(???) cleats. The cleats weren't just rainbow, they were neon rainbow. Pocket wondered if Pip got those for a discount.

Pocket had to be honest with himself— Pip looked really good.

"You like Liverpool, ya?"

"Right-o!" Pip nodded, "They are my favorite."

"I can tell." Pocket laughed, "Where did you get a Dalglish jersey?"

"Uh.. eBay?" Pip answered.

"Oh, I see."

The only reason the boys were toughing it out was because they knew that this was the only day they could. Winter was coming and it didn't play when it came to tough weather. This was something that Pip himself was used to, but Pocket was not. England winters sucked ass but they were nothing compared to Colorado winters.

Thus, Pocket grabbed the soccer ball from shed and went back over to Pip. The soccer ball was a little dirty from the shed with grass stains all over them.

"Jolly good," Pocket sighed, putting the ball down in the middle of the garden, "My goal shall be over yonder amidst those two trees, and yourself?"

"Alright," Pip looked around for a moment to find the perfect place, "My aim shall lie between those two bushes."

"Alrighty," Pocket kicked the ball over to his side, "I shall commence with the ball."

In the beginning, the match started with Pocket's stellar performance, leaving Pip trailing behind. The crowd of imaginary fans cheered as Pocket weaved through Pip's defenses, launching powerful shots towards the goal. His confidence soared, and he could almost taste the triumph.

However, as the game progressed, Pip's determination grew. He discovered his hidden talents, swiftly adapting to Pocket's moves and launching counterattacks with strategic precision. Pip's goal-scoring abilities gradually improved, causing Pocket's once-indomitable lead to dwindle.

Pocket's expression shifted from confidence to concern as Pip's relentless surge started to overtake him. His agile footwork and quick reflexes were no match for Pip's newfound skills. With each goal Pip scored, Pocket's hopes of winning began to fade.