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Author of 56 Stories |
Disclaimer: I only have a nickel. Something tells me that won’t cut it.
Crank Calls
Chapter Two
A phone sits in a prominent place on a console, almost quivering in anticipation as…
… a few inches away, a long, slender hand reaches out to grab it.
Rings, short and shrill, ring out and blast through the self-induced stupor that is caused by too much sugar and hormones raging through two teenage bodies. A few more rings and a violent scramble for the phone take almost too long. Finally, they answer.
“Hullooooo??”
“Hullooooo??”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Who is this?”
“Who is this?”
“You’re not funny.”
“You’re not funny.”
“Oh, very mature.”
“Oh, very mature.”
“Stop repeating me!”
“Stop repeating me!”
“My voice does not sound like that!”
“My voice does not sound like that!”
“Dillhole.”
“Oi! That’s very rude!”
“Ha! We win!”
“Ha! We win!”
“Are there even two of you on the phone?”
“Are there even two of you on the phone?”
“I bet you’re a lonely old man that is in a deep depression because your cats all died and you’re using this as an outlet for all your emotions.”
“I’m not repeating all of that.”
“Ha! Point two for us!”
“Who says we’re keeping score?”
“Oh, we’re always keeping score.”
“Oh, we’re always keeping score.”
“Can you honestly tell us that you’re not a lonely old man in a deep depression because your cats all died and you’re using this as an outlet for your emotions?”
“Yes.”
“We don’t believe you.”
“We don’t believe you.”
“I am a lonely old man in a deep depression because my cats all died and I’m using this as an outlet for my emotions.”
“I am a lonely old man in a deep depression because my cats all died and I’m using this as an outlet for my emotions… damn!”
“Ha-ha! Got you again.”
“Well, you know what? Your mother.”
And with a scream of victory and the snap of a phone, the Doctor kicks back in his captain’s chair, thoroughly pleased with himself.
“Oh, very original. You’re a Time Lord and all you could come up with was that?” Jack says from his place at the Doctor’s side.
“Shut up, you.”