Karson Valenti's Voice Mail

[enrages]

"NO, WAL-MART, I'M NOT GOING TO RETURN YOUR FUCKING CALLS. I APPLIED TO YOUR SHITTYASS STORE, LIKE, A GODDAMN YEAR AGO. I DON'T. WANT. THE. JOB. STOP CALLING.

If you're not Wal-Mart or a telemarketer, just leave a message, and I'll probably get back to you eventually. Seriously, though, this is 2012. Why the hell aren't you using something that's suitably futuristic and technologically advanced, like text messages or email? Who the fuck calls people anymore, I me---"

*beeeep*

Comments

[enrages]

And it can never happen again.

Promise me this.

[ Karson Valenti is now immune to time's flow. ]

[counterclock]

I can't promise you Miley Cyrus will never perform this number again, but she probably will not ever perform at the VMAs again. [Jussayin'.]

And I can promise that I'm never going to get over the mental scarring.

[They have transcended the mortal condition together. They are infinite. Broken, beautiful angels covered in melted ice cream.]

[enrages]

We... [ His mind is sluggish, burdened with all the crimes of humanity. ]

We should prepare. Prepare for the coming of the Miley storm. If you gouge my eyes out, I'll pop your ear drums. Deal?

[counterclock]

[She pats his shoulder like the friendliest leprechaun. Even though at full height she has like two inches on him and at "i haven't slept in a year" height that number increases to somewhere around five.] I'm thinking maybe instead we could just not watch it.

[She laughs then, because as if. She'll never be able to keep away and if she has to suffer through it, so does Karson. This she swears to herself, quietly, subtly, and not while muttering the whole spiel under her breath.]

Okay, but anyway, that was just part one. [Reaching across the table, Avery produces her own phone (which she irresponsibly left sitting there unattended) and places it in front of him.] Read it all and I'll buy you chicken fingers before they stop selling hot food.

[What is on the phone, you wonder? Why, it's a detailed slideshow on the harmful effects of methamphetamines. This is the top picture, followed immediately by a series of pictures detailing the stages of meth mouth, and then again, after that, three or four comparison shots of The Faces of Meth. The rest are an assortment of delightful facts on how meth can, generally and specifically, fuck up your life. There are about fifteen pictures total.

Her face is as stone: serious and immovable.

Happy motherfucking reading.]

[enrages]

[ The chicken fingers seals the deal. He accepts the phone and starts reading. And reading. And after like the first grouping of pictures, his eyes are glazing over, and he's staring forlornly at the next person with hardcore methmouth, and... ]

Why this? Why this thing?

[counterclock]

You.

Will.

Never.

Find.

Meth.

Funny.

Again.

[She folds her arm. She is a tyrant, possessed of an empathy blind spirit. She does not feel your suffering.]

Now keep reading. You're like, three quarters of the way done.

[enrages]

Why the fuck is meth funny? This shit is depressing. Like look at this woman-- she looks pretty successful here. Well, as successful as white trailer trash can be.

[ look at this woman. shows the woman. ]

[counterclock]

You thought it was funny enough earlier.

Now look at that face. Do you want that to be your face, Karson? Do you want to be a face of meth?

No, no. A Face of Meth, [she repeated with Scare Capitals this time, ruthlessly breaking the IC-to-text fourth wall.]

[enrages]

What the fuck. [ But he wants the chicken nugger. He continues reading on her phone. He tries to skip a few pages to speed the process up, because wow he's not actually reading all this shit. ]

[counterclock]

[Chicken. Nugger.

Okay.]

There's no way you just read that that fast. Go back. You'll read it all or no fried chicken and honey mustard or whatever you like to dip it in.

[enrages]

Uuuuuuuugh. Can you at least go get the food while I'm reading?

[counterclock]

I will order the food. And then I will come back to make sure you are reading. And I will not pick up the food until you're done.

[This is her final offer.]

[enrages]

Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. [ goes back to "reading" ]

[counterclock]

[Avery orders the food and says she'll be back to get it after she pays, and then comes over to brace her hands on the table.] Stop whatever you're doing and read it aloud to me. I don't trust you.

[enrages]

[ he skipped forward a fuckton of pages, so he just starts reading: ]

"...causes the salivary glands to dry out, which allows the mouth's acids to eat away at the tooth enamel." Bam. I'm reading, asshole.

[counterclock]

You weren't on that page. Go back. To the one about how meth changes your brain chemistry to make it so you can't feel joy anymore.

[Like a sentinel, she folds her arms and refuses to budge.]

[enrages]

RUGHURHGURHGUHRUGHRUHGURHGURHUGHRUGHURRUUGHHHHHHH.

[ fine. he does it. goddamnit. the things he will do for food. ]

[counterclock]

[She waits until he's read every single word of the last three infographics and then she gives a solemn nod, and turns on her heel to fetch the chicken strips.] What sauce do you want?

[enrages]

None. Sauce ruins it.

[counterclock]

Sauce is the best part, ya fuckin' weirdo. [She gets the chicken in any case, and it's still mostly warm so she doesn't expect him to bitch. She comes back over and slides the chicken across the table to him, then holds her hand out for her phone.]

Now have we learned something today, or do I need to google more pictures of meth mouth.

[enrages]

No, no, no, don't fucking do it, jesus, no. [ TAKE UR FUCKIN PHONE DEVOURING EVERY CHICKEN ]