A lonely elderly woman traps a telemarketer in a conversation. The telemarketer unsuccessfully attempts to stick to their script. Write the dialogue.
“Hello, this is George with Relay Communications, calling because you submitted an online interest form in our NEWEST and MOST EFFICIENT HI SPEED cellphone! Do you have a few moments for me to discuss the benefits of the RC ULTRA and answer ANY and all questions you may have?”
“……you said your name was George.”
“Yes ma’am I did. Am I speaking with Nancy Caruthers at 454 Lyndon Peak?”
“We’ll, I suppose. No one else to speak to you here, young man. My husband has been dead since 1988. Now it’s just me and my cat Goldfinger. My Caleb, that’s my dearly departed husband, was a huge James Bond fan, especially the Sean Connery version. Me, I never much cared for the movies: too much sex and violence glorification. I suppose the new fella ain’t so bad. Greg Danielson or something. Do you like James Bond?”
“I do, but I actually am calling to discu-“
“Well you are a man after all. I can’t say I’ve EVER come across a man who didn’t have some inclination towards that British Superman. My issue wasn’t with him as much as it was with those floozies he carried on with. An hourglass figure won’t get you as far as COMMON sense, don’t you agree um…..I’m sorry, what was your name dear?”
“It’s George. About my call, I wan-“
“Oh that’s right, you already said your name, I’m so sorry. I should remember that name. George was the name of my cousin on my fathers side. Wait no, it was actually on my mothers side. Old age makes me forget the most important details. Anyway, George was like the baby of the family, he was 10 years younger than his next sibling or cousin. Was drafted to go fight the Vietcong. I don’t know what that war was about, but I tell you, it made no sense to me. I’m a great supporter of this country, but I don’t support KILLING of any kind. I’m no hippy either, you wouldn’t have seen me at Kent State protesting or burning draft notices or any other such nonsense like any of these other radicals. You know what I mean?”
“If you’re not interested in the in the RC…..”
“So George loses a foot, and he somehow manages to survive a phosphorous grenade that wiped out the rest of his buddies. He comes back and kills himself. Survivors guilt. Tore the family apart. We used to get together every Sunday to watch the Cowboys. I didn’t much care for football back then, but I can’t get the clicker to turn the channel fast enough now. That’s why I need this newfangled gadget you’re selling sonny.”
“The RC isn’t a remote control for TV, although I supposed one could use it with the correct app to turn off the TV via Bluetooth.”
“Oh, well if it’s not a remote, I’m not interested. Thanks anyway.”
Dial tone.
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