3 THE CALL OF THE CHIPMUNK
The ringing cell phone rattled my slumber much like a swift donkey kick to the family jewels would. I sprang out of bed, attempting to silence the horrid Knight Rider theme funkafying my room with its 1980s boogie and bass. I needed to change my ringtone badly.
“Hello?” I muttered into the receiver.
I waited for a response and annoyed, I added, “You think you’re funny, eh? Go and play in Delhi traffic, you moron!”
“No thank you,” an elderly, feminine voice responded. “It’s rather dangerous, to be honest.”
“Whoops! My bad. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just, well, I was sleeping and you annoyed me.” Not the finest response or apology I’d ever concocted in my life, but it ended up being the first thing that came to mind at that time of the night/morning.
