(no subject)
Who: Simon Shaw (PINOCCHIO)
What: A series of voicemail messages for Sophie Jacoby.
When: Tuesday evening, after he sees this.
Rating: PG-13.
"Sophie. Sophie. Sophie. Sophie. Sophie. Pick up. I know you're there."
Beep.
"This is not funny. Stop engaging in disgusting sea creature paint rituals and pick up the phone."
Beep.
"Honestly, you could answer the bleeding telephone and it would not kill you. I'm the most important person in your life. Give peace a chance. CALL ME BACK."
Beep.
A minute or so of coughing can be heard, as Simon has so elegantly choked on his water right as the machine picked up.
Beep.
"Cricket, you don't even have the decency to become alarmed when my health is in danger. I could be in the hospital right now, dying without you, despairing for my solitude."
Beep.
"I suppose I could just tell you what's going on." A pause. "We're going to Irma's on Sunday. For a poker game. It'll be a fucking party, so you've got to come and dampen it. Okay. I love you, or whatever. Die in a fire."