I wrote this very quickly so yeah
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, would you like to take a quick survey as well as hear about some new offers that will be available from our company?”
“No, thanks.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, would you like to take a quick survey and also hear about some new offers that will be coming soon?”
“Well, I sure would.”
“Thank you, sir. If I could have your name?”
“Buttes.”
“Look, kid, I’ve had this trick played on me before, and I don’t want to call this house anymore than you want to get called by me.”
“I’ll have you know my name actually is Buttes, and I’m as tired of people not believing me when I tell them as you are of calling people for a living.”
“I’m very sorry, sir. If I could have your first name as well?”
“Seymour.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, how are you today?”
“You’re selling canned peas over the phone and you want to know how I’m doing?”
“I’m trying a more personal approach.”
“I’m doing fine, but I’m afraid I’m not interested in canned peas.”
“I’m sorry to hear that and I wish you the best of luck in life.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, are you having a good day?”
“As a matter of fact I am. It’s been an excellent day at work for me.”
“I see. What is it you do?”
“I’m the therapist over at Edgar’s Health Center-”
“Interesting.”
“-and unless you want to talk about your feelings toward canned peas, I don’t have time in my schedule for this call.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, would you like to hear all about our peas?”
“I really could not care any LESS about your peas, and how about a real marketing scheme next time guys. No one buys peas because they got a phone call.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, are you interested in hearing about peas?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Alrighty, well, we have several new deals about to take place. Order up to 50 cans in bulk now, and we’ll take 5 dollars off and have 2-day delivery.”
“Why would I need 50 cans of over-the-phone peas?”
“Well, peas are non-perishable, so they could last a single person a while without going bad. Or, you may need to make lots of pea soup for . . . some . . . reason.”
“Nobody I know likes pea soup.”
“I like pea soup.”
“Shut up, idiot, and get a real job where you don’t have to convince people to buy peas made by a woman with a suspiciously generic name.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, could I offer you any of our variety of peas?”
“I hate you and you probably do too, on the inside, for being a pea-selling jerk.”
“ . . . I suppose you're right.”
The phone hangs up.
---
A phone rings.
“Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas.”
“This is the therapist from Edgar’s . . . again.”
“Could I schedule an appointment?”
The phone hangs up.
Last edited by soupoftomato (2013-02-16 18:03:40)
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Wickimen wrote:
i cried a thousand tears
That's like the amount of peas in a bulk peas can
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yay
therapist
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Wickimen wrote:
this story inspired so many emotions
I was inspired by hearing an indie director say the word "telemarketer" while I was overhearing his conversation
That was the only word I heard of it
but it inspired me!
(skype?)
Last edited by soupoftomato (2013-02-16 14:20:14)
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“. . .and that’s why I feel so miserable all the time,” the telemarketer said with a face void of anything akin to misery, or anything at all really. He glanced at the therapist for a reaction. There was none.
“I just don’t understand any of it,” he went on. “Why we’re all rushing madly about like tiny ants and I’ve got to sell canned peas. Who cares about canned peas? Only I do.”
Further silence from the therapist.
“Aren’t you listening?” the telemarketer snapped finally.
“Sorry, yes. Go on.”
“Because that’s what I do, you know? It’s what I went into. It was my lifelong dream.”
“You mentioned that.”
“But no one else cares. It doesn’t concern them. It’s like life. What does my life matter to them? Naturally, they hate me. I’m just the guy selling canned peas. And their lives don’t really matter to me either. They’re just customers.”
“Yeah.”
“We’re all just ants scrabbling madly about, is what I’m saying.”
“Uh-huh. You’ve told me that.”
“You’re not listening, are you?”
“Look—”
“I feel so alone,” said the telemarketer. He closed his eyes bleakly.
“You don’t have to lie on the couch, you know. There’s plenty of chairs.”
“It’s just,” said the telemarketer, ignoring her. “Kate’s death has been hard on me.”
“I’m sorry, sir, your session was over ten minutes ago. So unless you can pay for more time—”
“I’m probably going to get laid off for not selling enough,” was the answer.
“Yeah. So the door’s over there.” The therapist propelled him rather forcefully away, but the telemarketer peered around the doorframe.
“I’m sorry, but, one more thing—”
“Sir—”
“Just as friends.”
“You think I’m your friend?”
“You’re the closest thing I have to one.”
“Right, right. What did you want to say?”
“Would you . . . would you maybe be interested in buying some peas?”
“You make me sick,” said the therapist, closing the door.
The telemarketer stood alone in the sterile lemon-scented hallway and looked at the can of peas in his hand. He shook it gently near his ear. That faint rattling, as always. But now he was struck by how many insignificant peas there were tumbling about in the dark, and the empty coldness surrounding them.
He cried.
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Wickimen wrote:
“. . .and that’s why I feel so miserable all the time,” the telemarketer said with a face void of anything akin to misery, or anything at all really. He glanced at the therapist for a reaction. There was none.
“I just don’t understand any of it,” he went on. “Why we’re all rushing madly about like tiny ants and I’ve got to sell canned peas. Who cares about canned peas? Only I do.”
Further silence from the therapist.
“Aren’t you listening?” the telemarketer snapped finally.
“Sorry, yes. Go on.”
“Because that’s what I do, you know? It’s what I went into. It was my lifelong dream.”
“You mentioned that.”
“But no one else cares. It doesn’t concern them. It’s like life. What does my life matter to them? Naturally, they hate me. I’m just the guy selling canned peas. And their lives don’t really matter to me either. They’re just customers.”
“Yeah.”
“We’re all just ants scrabbling madly about, is what I’m saying.”
“Uh-huh. You’ve told me that.”
“You’re not listening, are you?”
“Look—”
“I feel so alone,” said the telemarketer. He closed his eyes bleakly.
“You don’t have to lie on the couch, you know. There’s plenty of chairs.”
“It’s just,” said the telemarketer, ignoring her. “Kate’s death has been hard on me.”
“I’m sorry, sir, your session was over ten minutes ago. So unless you can pay for more time—”
“I’m probably going to get laid off for not selling enough,” was the answer.
“Yeah. So the door’s over there.” The therapist propelled him rather forcefully away, but the telemarketer peered around the doorframe.
“I’m sorry, but, one more thing—”
“Sir—”
“Just as friends.”
“You think I’m your friend?”
“You’re the closest thing I have to one.”
“Right, right. What did you want to say?”
“Would you . . . would you maybe be interested in buying some peas?”
“You make me sick,” said the therapist, closing the door.
The telemarketer stood alone in the sterile lemon-scented hallway and looked at the can of peas in his hand. He shook it gently near his ear. That faint rattling, as always. But now he was struck by how many insignificant peas there were tumbling about in the dark, and the empty coldness surrounding them.
He cried.
I believe, if I were to continue the story from the original, I wouldn't have any proper prose aside from dialogue and the one line phones ringing, artistically!
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Wickimen wrote:
i am not continuing however
i am
FANFICKING
fan fig shin
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I believe that is a pseudo-phonetic representation of fanfiction.
"what?" as in "why?" indeed
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Wickimen wrote:
i am not continuing however
i am
FANFICKING
uh
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Necromaster wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
i am not continuing however
i am
FANFICKINGuh
Fanficking is my favorite dude
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soupoftomato wrote:
“ . . . I suppose your right.”
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veggieman001 wrote:
soupoftomato wrote:
“ . . . I suppose your right.”
soupoftomato wrote:
“-and unless you want to talk about your feelings toward canned peas, I don’t have time in my schedule for this call.”
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Wickimen wrote:
veggieman001 wrote:
soupoftomato wrote:
“ . . . I suppose your right.”
soupoftomato wrote:
“-and unless you want to talk about your feelings toward canned peas, I don’t have time in my schedule for this call.”
It's a personal choice!
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soupoftomato wrote:
Wickimen wrote:
veggieman001 wrote:
soupoftomato wrote:
“-and unless you want to talk about your feelings toward canned peas, I don’t have time in my schedule for this call.”
It's a personal choice!
Last edited by Wickimen (2013-02-16 18:24:12)
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Inspired by Garkov I ran this through a Markoc-chain text generator.
http://www.owlnet.rice.edu/~cz1/prog/markov/markov.html
A phone rings. “Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, are you having a good day?” “As a matter of fact I am. It’s been an excellent day at work for me.” “I see. What is it you do?” “I’m the therapist from Edgar’s . . . reason.” “Nobody I know likes pea soup.” “I like pea soup.” “I like pea soup.” “I like pea soup.” “I like pea soup.” “I like pea soup.” “Shut up, idiot, and get a real job where you don’t have time in my schedule for this call.” The phone hangs up. --- A phone rings. “Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, are you having a good day?” “As a matter of fact I am. It’s been an excellent day at work for me.” “I see. What is it you do?” “I’m the therapist over at Edgar’s Health Center-” “Interesting.” “-and unless you want to know how I’m doing?” “I’m trying a more personal approach.” “I’m doing fine, but I’m afraid I’m not interested in hearing about peas?” “Oh, sure.” “Alrighty, well, we have several new deals about to take a quick survey and also hear about some new offers that will be available from our company?” “No, thanks.” The phone hangs up. --- A phone rings. “Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, would you like to hear that and I wish you the best of luck in life.” The phone hangs up. --- A phone rings. “Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, are you interested in canned peas.” “I’m sorry to hear that and I wish you the best of luck in life.” The phone hangs up. --- A phone rings. “Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, how are you having a good day?” “As a matter of fact I am. It’s been an excellent day at work for me.” “I see. What is it you do?” “I’m the therapist from Edgar’s . . . . . I suppose you're right.” The phone hangs up. --- A phone rings. “Hello, I’m with Kate’s Canned Peas, how are you today?” “You’re selling canned peas over the phone and you want to talk about your feelings toward canned peas, I don’t have time in my schedule for this call.” The phone hangs up
It got the recurring phone hangs up --- phone rings right, at least.
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I feel sorry for kate.
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