A house in Bath, England.
A humble dining room/kitchen on stage left. Living room with a piano, a few sofas and an elaborate rug are on stage right. This is the home of a Canadian family who have been posted to England. Dad is cooking in the kitchen.
Enter Mom and Julie. They sit at the dining room table.
Julie – I said to me ma'e, "Well couldn' you have just taken the trolly to the coun'er?", and 'e said "the bloody lady at the coun'er didn' even wan' to acknowledge me bloody presence!"
Mom – Julie, can't you like speak like a normal person, you know, like everyone else does in this family? I can't even understand you.
Julie – No I bloody well won't mum, I really want to fi' in 'ere. This is England we're living in, and I don' wan' to look like a flaming prat!
Mom – But it's like ridiculous how you're using all of those, like, words. They're all so alien.
Julie – You're cri'isizin me? 'Ow dar