David Maccaroni: The Return

I had just hung up the phone, slam dunked it to execute the voice on the other side; I had been a victim to the conversation of David Maccaroni.

A few second later the phone rang again. I didn't want to pick it up, I already knew who it was. It demanded attention, it wanted, it needed. The ringing ceased as the answering machine clicked in, 'Hey, unfortunately I'm not available right now, please leave your name and your number, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.'

'Hey dude, this is Dave Maccaroni calling at 3.27pm, I think you got cut off or something, please call me back on 416 657 2364, thanks.' There was a slight pause as if he wanted to add something else to his message, then he put the phone down.

Ten minutes later the phone rang again. I lit a cigarette and sat back as the answering machine recorded, 'Hey man, it's Dave Maccaroni calling at 3.37pm, wassup? just wondering how you're doing? Give me a call back man on 416 657 2364 when you get a chance. Thanks. Bye.'

This procedure was repeated every ten minutes for the next two hours. I decided to call the bastard back.
'Hello, David Maccaroni speaking.'

'Dave, stop calling me.'

'Oh hey man! wassup? Been wanting to talk to you all day, man!'

'You're a freak Dave! you need to get a fucking life.'

'Dude, man, I don't like the tone of voice that you're using with me. I don't like that man.'

'You know what? I don't give a fucking shit. Don't call me any more.'

'Mannnn, what's your problem man? Dude, I thought we were friends, man. You're like my best friend man...'

'Look Dave, I don't think I can be friends with someone who calls me up all the time, just to tell me how bored they are; you need to get some hobbies... seriously.'

'I've got hobbies man, what the hell are you talking about? I watch television, play computer games, drink beer, and talk on my phone.' he replied belligerently.

'I've got to go out.' I put the phone down.

It rang about thirty seconds later.