Good evening. Tonight's piece, "Calvin Carson's Cavalcade of Cars, Cards, and Cardigans," has fortunately been misplaced on account of gratuitous sex, violence, and pedantry. In its place, we dispassionately offer a mostly flaccid, partly turgid bit of tale titled, "That Wasn't Even Sexy," already unpackaged, reheated, and ready for you to do with as you please.
(NOTE: the safeword is, "mucklucks.")
And now, the bit:
A phone rang, and someone accidentally answered when they actually meant to ignore the call. "Hello."
"Oh, good. You're not a complete idiot."
"Surprises await us both, I suppose."
"Truer words have been spoken. May I speak with Throbbing Fistwood, please?"
"Did I say, 'No?'"
"Oh. Because I meant to say, "'Yes.'"
"So, I may speak with Throbbing Fistwood, then?"
"I'm sorry. I must have bludgeoned myself to death on my faux hardwood floor, because I appear to be in Hell."
"Would you like to call back another time?"
"May I speak with Throbbing Fistwood then?"
"Then, for God's sake, why would I call back later?"
"I was wondering that myself."
"I swear, this is the number the young lady gave me when I inquired with her about Throbbing Fistwood. Are you sure this isn't Throbbing Fistwood?"
"I'm sorry if I've wasted your time."
"It doesn't have to be a total waste, does it?"
"I mean, you'll have to give me a moment, but I may be able to help."
"You can help locate Throbbing Fistwood?"
"Well. At my age, you never can be too sure without a bit of 'assistance,' if you will."
"No. No, thank you. I'm afraid I'm a bit tight on time at the moment. Perhaps I'll try calling back later."
"Who should I ask for?"
"Got it, Dick. May I call you 'Dick?'"
"I do certainly hope so."
The phone went click, and never rang again.
YOU ARE READING
A Complete Waste of TimeHumor
A Complete Waste of Time is a presentation of the not-entirely unerotic essays, rantings, ravings, and assorted sordid nonsense of "Amoral Crackpot" Steve Arviso. Not intended for human consumption. Void where prohibited.