Scene - Posh hotel corridor.
MS : Excuse me, Mr Craigg Belami - where do you think you're going with that golf club, mate?
CB : Erm hmm... nowhere. Thought I'd go to the driving range for a while. Cheers mate. Later. (Begins to walk away)
MS : Driving range? At 2 AM? Are you sure you're not going to beat up a certain Johnny Reese with that club?
CB : Oi, if I wanted to bash someone up I'd brought my big arse driver, not this tiny putter, wanker! And no, I'm not going to smack the hell out of Reese. At least not tonight. (Grinning) Who the fuck are you by the way?
MS : I am the infamous Mat Skodeng, Skoding - if you read the Star! And I'm here to skodeng your ass, bro! In fact, I've been skodeng-ing your ass for a while, Belami. I saw you getting pissed at the karaoke bar just now.
CB : Pissed as in drunk? Hell yeah I was. Probably still am.
MS : No, fool. Pissed as in getting unbelievably psycho at Johnny boy. All that just because he didn't want to play along with your American Idol karaoke sing-song bullshit.
CB : Fuck that man. He totally spoiled the whole session. I'm gonna get back at him for this.
MS : Hence the clubs?
CB : No, as I said - driving range. Aren't you supposed to have a sound religious character to be a Mat Skodeng?
MS : Of course
CB : Then why were you at the bar, mate?
MS : I don't need to answer that. Fuck you.
CB : You don't get paid to do this, do you?
MS : Not really.
CB : Dude, you're a loser.
MS : Yeah, I suppose.
CB : But, hey... really, why do you even care if I beat up Reese?
MS : I don't know. I am a Moral Police. I need to curb all these immoral activities.
CB : Mind your own business. That's my advice. And go away before I smack YOU in the head. Go back to Terengganu, or wherever that is you're from!
MS : (Retreating, and starting to walk away) Belami, you may win the battle this time, but I'll be back - with my fellow Mat Skodings and I'll bring my whole golf set next time.