Broad wants Red Bull decision referred

The dressing room was quiet, save for two players arguing in Afrikaans.

"Come on Trotty, come on Kevin," said Andrew Strauss. "You know the rules - no talking in the old mother tongue."

"Sorry skipper," said Jonathan Trott. "It's just that we're having a bit of a hard time communicating in English."

"That's true, ja," said Pietersen. "I mean 'yes'."

Speaking the word seemed to alarm Pietersen, and he immediately began running to the other end of the dressing room. Trott stood stock still for a few minutes, then went back to scratching the floor with his boot. Pietersen gibbered excitedly.

"Look, Kevin, perhaps a bit less of the Red Bull, hmmm?" said Strauss.

"I'd get that decision reviewed, KP," said Stuart Broad. "Okay, it may sound like Straussy was crystal clear about not drinking so much Red Bull and that his words leave no possible room for doubt. But it can't hurt to ask. If you don't buy a ticket, you don't get to go have a stern talking-to and a free chocolate digestive in Roshan Mahanama's office."

"Now look here, Stuart," said Strauss. "Remember the chat we had about respecting authority figures."

"I hate you, you're not my real dad," sobbed Broad. "Everything's so unfair. I never asked to be born with an excellent temperament for a young lad and a very real chance of making the allrounder's berth my own if I keep doing the simple things well."

In his tearful rage, he threw a shoe across the room. It flew towards Ian Bell. Bell watched it carefully, his mouth open. The shoe hit Bell in the mouth. Bell looked confused, but maintained an exemplary high left elbow and classical appearance as he began to chew slowly and sadly on the shoe.

After some minutes, Paul Collingwood took pity on the Warwickshire batsman and removed the shoe from his mouth.

"Must I do everything myself?" said the free-flowing Durham talent.

Trott considered the question for a long time. He looked at Collingwood. He opened his mouth to speak. He closed it again. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. He shrugged a bit, and opened his mouth again. He took a deep breath, but seemed to think better of it, and returned to scratching his chin as if deep in consideration. Eventually, everyone gave up watching him and waited for Pietersen to do something preposterous. The dressing room fell into silence, broken only by Graeme Swann doing an occasional television interview.