Phone Rage - "The Golden Parachute" Continues!

Here are Week 82 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

I miss the days when I could hammer a landline phone handset on the desktop until I got a response. Pressing cell buttons isn't the same.

I consider smashing my phone against the wall. Instead I say "Listen IVR. Patch me through now or I will hunt you down and disconnect you."

After a pause the IVR says "To speak to the Desk Sergeant, press 1." That's more like it! I press 1. "OK. I'll connect you. Please hold."

At last! A familiar voice comes on the line. "Rixey speaking." Rixey? Why him? Rixey has been my nemesis since I began with the Department.

Throughout my police career Rixey has never failed to undermine my activities and or belittle my performance. I never could figure out why.

My suspension from the force was the happiest day of his life. Why did the IVR connect me with him? "This is Arkaby." "What do you want?"

"I want to report shots fired at a police officer." "Which officer?" "Me. The shots were fired at me." "Aren't you off active duty?" "Yes."

"You aren't really reporting shots fired at a police officer." "OK. Just shots fired." "Who fired them?" "Farley Granger." "Did he hit you?"

"No. He hit Regna Granger. His niece." "Uh huh. Is she OK?" "Yes. We're at the Body Parts R Us Hospital. Are you sending a car out or not?"

Silence. "Rixey?" "A minute while I visualize your girlfriend taking a bullet for you." "Regi's not actually my girlfriend." "Uh huh."

I hear muffled laughter. "Am I on speaker?" "Maybe." "Do what you want. I'll handle things here." "Keep your pants on. We'll be over ASAP."

"Listen Rixey. You and I had our differences in the past. You think I'm an incompetent boob. I think you’re a self-righteous narcissist."

"What's your point?" "Something's happening here. We need to put differences aside. Stop being an asshole for once and take me seriously."

I'll take you seriously when you stop being an idiot." "Let’s both stop on the count of three. 1, 2, 3." A pause. "You're still an idiot."

I sigh. "And you're still an asshole." "Nice talking to you." "Wait. There are real crimes here and I can't make any arrests." "Like what?"

"I've discovered an illicit Caribbean trade in cadavers." "A what?" "A Caribbean medical school has been importing cadavers illegally."

"That's why Farley Granger shot at you?" "No. He shot at me because I wouldn't give up my cellphone." "Why did he want you to do that?"

"Because of the Singularity." "The what?" "The inevitable emergence of human level machine intelligence." "Arkaby, have you been drinking?"

"Not a drop. It's very simple. Farley shot at me because I brought my active cellphone into his shielded safe room here at Body Parts R Us."

"He believes that a self-aware computer is controlling us through our cellphones and the only solution is to go completely off the grid."

"Why is that computer selling cadavers to a Caribbean medical school?" "That's a separate issue. I don't yet know who is trading corpses."



(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)