Phone Calls: Feel Great Increasing Your Dimensions
Back in his room, Thomas tossed the jeans and the shirt into a corner and stepped into the bathroom, deliberately ignoring the last time he’d been in there. Someone had cleaned the bathroom and taken his soaked clothes, but Thomas couldn’t quite muster up concern for them. They could have burned those clothes for all he cared. He showered quickly, letting hot water sluice over his body, and stepped back out, rubbing a towel furiously over his freshly washed hair.
Another towel around his hips, Thomas returned to the bedroom in search of his comb. He found it buried under a couple of shirts and ran it through his hair, grooming done, then frowned at a faint, tinny beeping. It took a minute, but he finally found the source: his cell phone, caught in the crack between the bedframe and the mattress. The display signaled that he had 45 new voice messages and Thomas rolled his eyes as he thumbed through the missing calls log. The majority of them were from numbers he didn’t recognize, but there was one labeled clearly from Harry Dresden.
Thomas dialed his voicemail and punched in his password, finger on the ‘delete’ button at the first sign of screaming.
“Thomas. Leave a message.”
“OMG THOMAS! I LO-” Delete.
“Hello? Hello? Is this really Thomas from Real-” Delete.
“YOU BITCH I SHOULD HAVE WON THAT AUC-” Delete.
“Hello, do you have problems keeping your woman satis-” A smirk. Delete.
“Hello there. I’m calling for Edward Cullen? Please have him call me back at-” A grin. Save.
Twenty two deleted messages and several pauses for counting slowly backwards from 10 later, a familiar voice came through the line.
“Mr. Raith? This is Harry Dresden. I’ve found a solution to the problem we discussed about your…*cough* performance? Unfortunately, the enlarge-er, the charm is not government approved and cannot be sent through the mail system. A courier is bringing the product to you, and will be waiting for you tomorrow afternoon at the diner you frequent. Goodbye.”
Thomas glared at the phone, half admiring Harry’s ability to keep from laughing his head off, half trying to keep himself from grinning. He looked at the camera crew that was peering through the doorway and grinned. “Apparently Chicago’s only wizard can solve male problems,” he said pleasantly. “Who knew?”
Laughing privately over the idea that Harry’s office was now going to be flooded with desperate men looking for enlargement charms, Thomas deleted the rest of the voicemails and tossed his phone back on the bed. A courier tomorrow afternoon? It would be no problem.
Another towel around his hips, Thomas returned to the bedroom in search of his comb. He found it buried under a couple of shirts and ran it through his hair, grooming done, then frowned at a faint, tinny beeping. It took a minute, but he finally found the source: his cell phone, caught in the crack between the bedframe and the mattress. The display signaled that he had 45 new voice messages and Thomas rolled his eyes as he thumbed through the missing calls log. The majority of them were from numbers he didn’t recognize, but there was one labeled clearly from Harry Dresden.
Thomas dialed his voicemail and punched in his password, finger on the ‘delete’ button at the first sign of screaming.
“Thomas. Leave a message.”
“OMG THOMAS! I LO-” Delete.
“Hello? Hello? Is this really Thomas from Real-” Delete.
“YOU BITCH I SHOULD HAVE WON THAT AUC-” Delete.
“Hello, do you have problems keeping your woman satis-” A smirk. Delete.
“Hello there. I’m calling for Edward Cullen? Please have him call me back at-” A grin. Save.
Twenty two deleted messages and several pauses for counting slowly backwards from 10 later, a familiar voice came through the line.
“Mr. Raith? This is Harry Dresden. I’ve found a solution to the problem we discussed about your…*cough* performance? Unfortunately, the enlarge-er, the charm is not government approved and cannot be sent through the mail system. A courier is bringing the product to you, and will be waiting for you tomorrow afternoon at the diner you frequent. Goodbye.”
Thomas glared at the phone, half admiring Harry’s ability to keep from laughing his head off, half trying to keep himself from grinning. He looked at the camera crew that was peering through the doorway and grinned. “Apparently Chicago’s only wizard can solve male problems,” he said pleasantly. “Who knew?”
Laughing privately over the idea that Harry’s office was now going to be flooded with desperate men looking for enlargement charms, Thomas deleted the rest of the voicemails and tossed his phone back on the bed. A courier tomorrow afternoon? It would be no problem.