Telemarketer (recording): "Michael [redacted], this is your last chance to take advantage of a very special offer that will reduce your credit card payments. To speak with one of our representatives and claim this offer, please press 'one'."

Me: *presses one*

Telemarketer (answers): "Your first name?"

Me: "Hello?"

Telemarketer: "Uh, hello?"

Me: "No, normally people answer the phone and say 'hello'. I learned that at school."



Telemarketer (amazingly condescending): "OK. Hello."



Me: "Who are you, mister?"



Telemarketer: "Is there a parent at home that I can speak with?"



Me: "I'm Mikey."



Telemarketer: "Mikey, is there a parent at home that I can speak with?"



Me: "What's your name?"



Telemarketer (exasperated sigh): "I'm James."



Me: "Daddy is home."



Telemarketer: "Great, can you put him on the phone, please?"



Me: "He's in the basement watching his silly movies. The ones with the ladies that go 'oooooh' and the guys go 'ohhhhh yeahhhhh'."



Telemarketer (holding in laughter): "Oh my god."



Me: "I need to doodle."



Telemarketer: "Why don't you give the phone to your daddy so you can go draw in your coloring book or something?"



Me: "No, I mean doodle. I need to do a doodle out out of my bum bum."



Telemarketer: "OK, then just give the phone to your daddy now so you can like...take care of that."



Me: *grunting*



Telemarketer: "Hello?"



Me: *grunting*



Telemarketer (openly laughing): "Oh my god."



Me: "It's all over my leg."



Telemarketer: "Jesus Christ. Please just get your dad."



Me: "It smells like poopies and bologna Lunchables."



Telemarketer: "Mikey, is your mom there? Maybe you can put her on the phone so you don't interrupt daddy."



Me: "Mommy is at the doctor getting rid of my baby brother."



Telemarketer: "Is your brother not feeling well?"



Me: "He's still in her belly."



Telemarketer: "Oh...oh wow. I...wow."



Me: "My bum bum can't hold the doodles in, mister."



Telemarketer: "Please get your daddy and put him on the phone before you -- "



Me (muffling phone): "Michael what are you doing? WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN SHIT?! WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!?"



Telemarketer: "..."



Me: "Who the hell is this?"



Telemarketer: "This is James with Credit Fraud USA, sir. I was calling to -- "



Me: "Why you makin' mah son shit his pants?"



Telemarketer: "What? No, I -- "



Me: "I'm in the other room tryin' to crank one out ta Gangbang Robo-Grannies 4000, and you're callin' up mah boy and tellin' him he's gotta shit himself or his momma's going through with the 'bortion?! He's in the corner cryin' and sprayin' diahreea sauce all over mah brandy new Oakley razors."



Telemarketer: "Oh my god, no. Sir -- "



Me: "You look here you fuck wagon, you call here again and I'm a punch yer dick in half."



*click*