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Manchester United was curled up on his bed, he was freezing. He was fine a few days ago, but yesterday, he and the other clubs noticed that he wasn’t ‘fine’.
Manchester United reached for the telephone on his bedside table. He called Manchester City.
On the other end of the line, Manchester City answered in an annoyed and tired voice, “It’s two in the morning. What do you want?”
“Something warm.” Said Manchester United. His voice sounded hoarse.
“What? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m cold.”
Manchester City groaned, he then said, “use a blanket.”
“I am using a blanket! I feel sick.”
“Fine. Wait there and don’t die.” Manchester City said, he ended the call.
“I’m a club. I can’t die.” Manchester United muttered.
Moments later, Manchester City arrived in front of his brother’s house, he didn’t even have to knock because Manchester United never locks the front door. Ever.
“Mancy? Is that you?” Manchester United asked.
“Yes, yes. It’s me.” Manchester City answered.
Manchester United groaned and rolled himself into a burrito, earning a questioning look from his brother.
“So what was it that you wanted?” Manchester City asked.
“Soup. I know you’re good at that. So you can’t deny it.” Manchester United replied.
Manchester City rolled his eyes. His brother was right, out of everyone else in the neighbourhood, he was the best at making soup. Manchester City sighed in defeat and walked to the kitchen.
Later, he came back to his brother’s room with a bowl of soup. He placed it on the bedside table.
Manchester United opened his mouth to say something, but Manchester City cut him off before he could say anything, “I’m not spoon-feeding you.”
Manchester United scowled and said, “Fine. But you have to stay here in case I need something else.”
“Fine, fine. We have a deal.”
Manchester United smiled in victory and sat up to eat his soup. Once he was done, he puts the bowl back on his bedside table. Manchester United goes back underneath the covers.
Manchester City shook his head and sighed, “Sleep well you big baby.” He muttered softly as he exits his brother’s room with the empty bowl.
“I’m the older one, so technically you’re the baby.” Manchester United muttered. Shortly afterwards, he drifts off to sleep.