Cold calls and the gift of Death

[jack_babalon]

Woke up to Polo and Pepe hissing and growling something fierce from the living room. Stumbled out of bed to discover that a fluffy, black cat had snuck in through the open window. On the floor of the dining room was a dead field mouse. Apparently it was a housewarming gift from the little intruder. Pepe and Polo were not impressed. Heartened by my presence the two brothers began stalking and circling the black cat, who seemingly only wanted some of the dry food left over in their bowl. Pepe was making that sound cats do when their pissed off - somewhere between a miniature power saw and a tiger that's feasted exclusively on a diet of helium balloon animals. Knowing a fight was ready to break out I took matters into my own hands, chasing the little intruder out with a series of sudden hand claps and stamping feet that sent hir running back out the way s/he came. When I came back Polo and Pepe were standing over the dead mouse with all the solemnity of a recently arrived CSI unit. Pepe occasionally batted at the corpse and seemed to take interest of the sporadic twitches it delivered.

In the background the old land line started ringing. Having had a cell phone (along with everyone else I know) for the last seven years I had forgotten how obnoxiously loud they could sound first thing in the morning.

I answered it on instinct watching the two brothers confer over the corpse.

The guy on the phone was a telemarketer and launched off my groggy hello into a tirade about fund raising and the local opera. He sounded gratingly energetic and earnestly chipper. It took me a few tries to wedge a word through his pitch. Finally I just shouted -

"Dude, not now... I got a dead body to get rid of!" and I promptly hung up on him.

Grabbing a garbage bag, the fox tail and a dust bin from the pantry, I made my way over to the 'scene'.

The two brothers looked up at me knowingly and both nodded in mute agreement as to the cause of death.

"Alright, boys... the case is closed." I grumbled in my best cop accent, "Let me bag 'em and tag 'em!"

The brothers, having grown bored with this spectacle, did a sort of cat equivalent of a shrug and made their way back to the food bowl they so fiercely had defended. After a few failed attempts to scoop up the mouse (a process made all the more difficult because it kept squirming whenever the foxtail brushed up against it) I managed to get it into the bag. To be honest I half expected to see a tiny chalk outline where the body had been.

I finally managed to sit down for a smoke when the land line started ringing again... I just sat there looking at the phone as Polo lept into my lap and started purring.

"I know, boy, I know." I said scratching him under the chin and wondering where I left my cigarettes the night before.

Comments

[catwalk.livejournal.com]

"Dude, not now... I got a dead body to get rid of!"

ahahahahahahahaha!

[jackbabalon23.livejournal.com]

This is why I enjoy posting these sort of day-to-day shenanigans on LJ rather than Facebook... I can really get into the details behind the event.

[melodyclark.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't you have loved to be a fly on the wall of that phone room after you hung up the phone? lol

[jackbabalon23.livejournal.com]

I'm anxiously awaiting the police to show up anytime now. But having toiled in many a call-center I'm pretty sure the guy just dutifully marked it as 'Call back later' on his log.

Still, one can hope that he at least did a good spit take across his monitor before doing so.

[ammutbite.livejournal.com]

I think we came up with the geekiest compliment ever for you, which you will hopefully take in the spirit intended by people who have not played in some 10-15 yrs.
"jackbabalon23 would be a great Dungeon Master."

[jackbabalon23.livejournal.com]

Why thank you. I actually used to be quite the DM in my pre-punk youth, probably one of many influences that led me to pursue writing.