For this one, you must calm down your temporarily deceased partner before they make you fatally sick.
GAG SIGNAL (any gender early twenties through late life)
Look baby, I can only do so much. I just need some breathing room. Woah. Bad pun. Sorry. Sorry.
But you get what I'm saying, right? I can't get there overnight. Firstly, I happen to be on a cruise ship. You know that, right? I'm not saying that vacation takes priority. You're my priority. I told you to summon me any time and I meant it.
But I have to get off the water first. And then I need to get to Dublin. Plane is probably fastest but even then it's going to be about four days-- ahggg!
I can't help you when you do that. I get it. I get it. You don't know if you're going to reach me so you send a gag signal. But you only need to do it once, okay? You got my attention. Practically make me spew lobster bisque all over the deck.
But babe, I need you to control your panic now and stop sending it to me. This is nothing we can't solve. Lucifer is threatening to fink out on the contract. How many times has he done that? And I've always brought in the lawyers and made sure you can come back from the dead in three years. Okay? Okay? Three years... still on. Okay? Just give me four days and I'll be right at your gravesite to straighten this out.
If you understand me, then... um... um... send a tickle, okay?
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes.
If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"