When Things Don't Go The Way You Expect

Well, with the storm that came through the phones were running hot tonight. In the midst of people yelling "Help! There's a tree in my house!" "Help, someone's been struck by lightning" (I didn't get that call, but it came in) and so forth, we got a call from a Dickhead.

This Dickhead had stolen a mobile phone. This Dickhead had decided it'd be funny to dial 000 a lot on this stolen phone. This Dickhead obviously didn't realise we would recognise the phone's registered address. (I've come up with an analogy for why making unnecessary 000 calls is uncool - it's like going into the casualty department of a hospital and taking a dump right in the middle of the floor. You're just diverting attention away from people who actually need it, and it's really not that funny). So I get a call from this phone. Someone's wheezing out "Help me."

I ask him where he is. Same again. I point out that unless he tells me where he is, then there's no way any help can get to him. (At this stage, I'm still entertaining the possibility that maybe the Dickhead has actually gotten into life-threatening trouble. Admittedly, I'm tying it to a couch and forcing it to watch Independence Day, but I am.) Then he wheezes out something like "kill you".

"You're going to kill me?"
"I'm going to kill you."
"I don't think so." *click*

I didn't make a big song and dance, I just let my contempt for sub-toilet-seat mold like him seep through into my voice, and hung up. Maybe he was expecting me to scream, or get afraid, or something. But I had real calls banking up like you wouldn't believe, and he completely failed to make me scared.

So, Dickhead, if you're reading this (which you aren't, because you don't have a fucking clue who I am, which makes your threats even more laughable) - go choke on your own shit. You'd be doing the entire world a favour. If you killed yourself in an amusing way, you'd do more to better this planet than your mother ever did by shitting you out.

Ah, I feel so cleansed.