Surpraise

Six and a half hours before the beginning of the first match of the World Cup, the text of the direct broadcast of the game turned out to be at the disposal of Salt.

Waited. It began. The laid speeches are uttered. The Mexico team is already on the field. For some reason, the South Africa team is not.

Judge Ravshan Irmatov looks confused. The national anthem of Mexico sounds.
The third minute of the match. Players of the South African national team are lazily on the field. For some reason, they come out of the locker room of the Mexicans. In the hands of many - Baula.

Surpraise Moriri, a midfielder, goes to the dumbfounded rivals.

(Here is a commentator - as it should be for all football commentators - it should be stupid to joke about why the parents called their son this way, but your humble servant is not a very experienced football commentator.)

“Surpraise,” says Surpraise Moriri, “taking the Glock Pistol from somewhere in my underpants.” All lie down. Remove nuts and trinkets.
The inevitable golden crosses for Latino American, pleasantly tinkling, fall into a pre -prepared plastic bag.

Reneille is the years of thesholonyan, the midfielder, lazily playing the sharpening, examines the stopwatch of Ravshan Irmatov. Specifying contemptuously-the boilers are Lokhovsky,-steps aside.

The fifth minute of the match. A treacherous spot appears on the underpants of Ravshan Irmatov. The team of Mexico in full force lies on the lawn. Hands behind the head, face down.
Defender Aaron Mokuna-a dazzling smile, the M-16 assault rifle on a strong shoulder-thoughtfully examines the stands.
He understands, apparently, that there are too many spectators, he goes to his comrades.

After conferring, the players of the South Africa team are moving away.

Seventh minute of the match. Only Matthew But, one and without weapons, remains on the field.
Matthew Bout shrugs.

The game is over.