It’s Saturday, and the family is home. The phone rings. A large company gets its kicks (and circumvents our statewide no-call registry) by cold-calling its own customers. A fragmented transcript of the next several minutes appears below. Words in italics are my best guess.
“Mr. Dad, I show here that your cellular phone contract has recently expired.”
“Who’s that on the phone?”
“Can I have some more milk please?”
“MMMMMMMM. EH EH EGGHGHGGPHPHPT.”
“Do not put your finger in your brother’s nose.”
“We can upgrade you to our conquistador plan for only $15 more per month.”
“But TwoBert keeps putting my cars in his mouth!”
“BBBPBPBPBPBBBUH BUH BUH BUHHHHHH.”
“Excellent! Now let me enumerate the 816 covenants of your new agreement.”
“Make sure you get a discount on the flanjammer Spartacus—”
“Daddy! I need a pen so I can draw my construction plans!”
“—then you’ll remove the UPC symbol and include it with form Alpha Two-Niner Delta, filled out in fifthlicate—”
“—definitely get a camera phone, so I can take pictures of child molesters who hang around the playground—”
“DAR DAR DAR DAR DAR DARRRR DEH DEH DEG DEG.”
“—that last phone number is very important, so I hope you wrote it down because I’m only allowed by federal law to say it once—”
“Daddy, get off the phone, please—”
“Oh, and don’t get any texting. I am NOT paying for text spam—”
“You need to help me! Get off the phone NOWWWW-uh!”
“MMMMMMNNNNNEERAHHHHH. GHTHTHP GGGGGUH.”
“—and you can call anyone whose first name ends in L for free on alternate Thursdays—”
“Mommmmmm!”
“—you will have double the minutes on even weekdays after 7 but half the minutes on odd weekends before 8:45—”
“We can watch Wallace & Gromit after Daddy gets off the phone.”
“—that second rebate is only available for the next 70 seconds—”
[fiercely atonal plonking on a toy piano]
“GAH! OYERLLL. NAR NARRR NAR NARRLLL. ERHHMMMM”
“I think TwoBert pooped.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
Yes. May I come live with you for a while?
