view askewniverse, clerks. randal/dante. PG. characters belong to kevin smith.
six a.m. telemarketing.
Randal Graves wakes up at six thirty-two, stumbles into the bathroom, and pees.
It's too early to be conscious. His phone sits balanced on a pile of movies he borrowed from RST and never returned.
"Shit... Shit, who the hell is this?"
With the receiver tucked between his shoulder and ear, he picks at the lint between his toes.
"Alright, god, I'll open. Jesus, you don't have to ignore me."
"I didn't know you were scheduled today."
Dante leans on the counter, rubbing at his eyes blearily. "I wasn't, but the boss called me at six in the fucking morning. He wouldn't even talk to me!"
Randal twists off the cap of a Gatorade and drops the ring of orange plastic to the floor.
"How do you know --" swig "--that it was your boss? It could've been a mute telemarketer."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"Neither does getting up at six because some voiceless person asked, my presumptuous friend."
( i join the queue on your answerphone / and all I am is holding breath / just pick up, i know you're there. )
--- elendraug (at) yahoo . com