Sara and Stan are unpacking, having clearly just moved house. They are in their early thirties. Sara is sorting through boxes in the living room.
STAN: "...I can't find the thingummy to do the wotsit flaps."
SARA: "It's in the box marked "stuff'" Pause. "Hun?"
SARA: "Have you seen that religious triptych?"
STAN: "The plastic one? With the faux-3D rendering of the crucifiction?"
SARA: "Yeah. That that Nun my mum knows gave us at the wedding."
STAN: "I gave it to Oxfam."
SARA: "What? When!?"
SARA: "Oh no!!"
STAN: "What? What's the problem? You hated it. It was vile. You were the one who put it in storage. It's not like you're religious."
SARA: "But I'm Catholic. And now I feel guilty! We were given that by an actual nun! On our wedding day!"
STAN: "She'll never know."
SARA "But I know."
STAN: "It's not like a TV license. I don't think they have a database. The guilt won't travel through the air like mobile phone signals..."
The doorbell goes. They look at each other.
SARA: "Actually, have we transferrred the TV license yet?"
STAN: "No. I'm not sure I can flush the 14 inch down the toilet."
SARA (muttering to herself): "Not for the first time."
They open the door. There is a small nun in a blue habit staring at them like thunder. She has a jolly blue clipboard.
NUN: "Felicitations. We have been monitoring the area and we notice we are not picking up a religious artifact in your house... according to our records you were given a triptych of the Christ. Do you have this for inspection?"
SARA: "I'm sorry, siister?"
NUN: "We have been inspecting the area.."
NUN: "Yes." She pauses then waves behind her vaguely. There is a battered TV van with a massive cone arial on top, clearly like the fake TV detector vans of our youth. An older nun sits in the front. Having never worn big headphones before she has slightly the wrong idea and has them on upside down. She waves cheerily.
NUN: "We are here to collect payment."
STAN: "But how did you..."
NUN (over-keenly): "WE HAVE COME FOR YOUR FIRST BORN!"
Sara and Stan look at her blankly.
STAN: "I'm sorry?"
NUN: "Your first born! If you cannot produce the sacred artifact entrusted to your care..."
SARA: "We don't have any children."
STAN: "The upstairs landing doesn't even have floorboards."
The Nun pauses. A bit let down. She makes the best of it.
NUN: "Any favourite pets?" (There is a hoot from the van, inspiration strikes) "Or any cakes? We always need cakes for the work of our saviour."
SARA: "Not really."
She looks disappointed. Four quick hoots in a row from the van sound quite urgent.
NUN: "Could Sister Bridget perhaps then use your downstairs facilities? She can't climb. It's the sciatica."
STAN: "Um. We can't find the toiletroll..."
NUN: "It's in the box marked 'More Stuff'. Is there a brew on?" (She charges past them into the house. Sara and Stan look at each other)