Phone rings…

“Hi, can I speak to Mr Phalapholalios?”

(is that a real name? Surely you’re jesting…)

“Er, I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

(THINK? Bloody well sure as buggery you’ve got the wrong number actually!)

“Oh, so that’s not Her Majesty’s prison then?”

(well, I lock the doors when I’m in on my own, but that’s about it)

“[Laughs] No, it isn’t”

[genral jollities of oh how silly this situation is]

“Oh right, thanks.”

And that did just happen, I was there!

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