Automation Failure

FX:  A man groans in anguish. Telephone buttons are pushed.

FX:  Ring Ring

Phone: Hello, you are through to the Samaritans.

Man: Thank God, look I really need to talk to…

Phone: If you would like to voice a complaint about Brexit, Southern Trains, middle aged men in skinny jeans please press one.

Man: Ah what?

Phone: If you are having difficulty with your family or partner please press 2. If you are full of despair, please press 3.

FX:  BEEP

Man:  Please I need to talk to…

Phone: Thank you for phoning the Samaritans. So that we can identify you please let us know the second to last letter of your mothers maiden name.

Man: You’re not supposed to know me.  Isn’t that the point?

Phone:  To speak to an advisor we recommend that you provide the second last letter of your mothers maiden name.

Man: Oh for Pete’s sake

FX: BEEP

Man: Now look I need to talk to…

Phone:  That is the incorrect letter.

Man: (angrily) No it’s not!

Phone:  Yes it is. Please try again and if unsuccessful please press 4,5 or 6 hashtag semi colon 9.

FX:  BEEEEEEEEEEP. Silence

Phone: You pressed 4.

Man:  Yes I did, can I speak to someone now?

Phone:  Please try pressing the off button for 10 seconds on the phone to reboot it.  If that is not the answer you were looking for please try 6 hashtag semi colon 9.

Man: Oh for the love of…

FX: Beep beep beep beep

Man:  Hello, am I through now?

Phone: For quality and training purposes this call may be recorded. Please note that we will never disclose any of your personal details to the sun, the daily mail, or any other tabloid, unless it’s in the public interest to know.

Man:  (Despairingly). Please I need to talk to someone.

Phone: Sorry, due to high call turnover you are now 5th in the queue, but your phone call is very important to us, so please stay on the line and we will try to connect you as soon as possible.

FX: Theme tune to Rainbow.

Man:  Oh my God. He sighs.

FX:  The music stops.

Man:  Hello hello are you there now?

FX:  The music starts up again.  

Man: Gees you son’s of…

FX: The music stops.

Man: Ah Thank God, hello is there anyone there?

Phone:  Did you know at the Samaritans we now have an automated chat room where you can get hold of us at any time, twenty four seven.

Man: (yelling) I don’t care.  Please let me talk to somebody.

Phone: Thank you for phoning the Samaritans, if there is anything else we can do, please press 12 on your telephone keypad, otherwise you may disconnect.

Man: What?

FX: Call is disconnected

Man: AAAAAHHHH

FX: Phone is bashed into many small pieces.

Man:  O.K.  I think that worked.  Feeling better already.

How to get promoted….

FX:  Plastic drawer slams shut

Candida: Hi Darren. Have you broken the copier again?

Darren: No. It broke itself

Candida: As they do. Hey did you hear about Paul?

Darren: No

Candida: He got a promotion

Darren: What? How?

Candida: His Grandmother sold on ebay

Darren: Why that good for nothing…. I put my youngest on and didn’t get a single bid

Candida: Yeah, but she was wearing her new support stockings so she was looking pretty sharp. I’ve met your youngest

Darren: True. Not enough company commitment on my part

FX: The drawer slams again

Candida: At least you didn’t change your name to the bosses daughter.   I should have checked out what Candida was

Darren: Dreadful choice. She’s changed it now to Kay.

Candida: Well that’s no good. Not with a surname Syrah

Darren: Apt since we just got passed over

Candida: Not necessarily. I have a plan.

Darren: Oh yes? Me too.

Candida: I’m thinking of starting a rumour that Paul is selling secrets to our biggest competitor

Darren: Good idea. Who is our biggest competitor?

Candida: I don’t know

Darren: You’re Head of Marketing

Candida: Your point?

Darren: Why would the boss care if Paul is selling secrets to a company he wasn’t sure was his biggest competitor

Candida: Don’t get technical with me

Darren: My plan is better

Candida: The religion plan? I thought you said the synagogue had banned you

Darren: They suspected my motives. Yiddish/Gibberish, all the same to me

Candida: They had a point

Darren: So I’ve changed my tactic

Boss: Ah Darren, there you are. What a lovely surprise

Darren: Thank you boss, glad you liked it

Boss: Decking out my office in rose petals, and making swans from my napkins. Very thoughtful. The hot tub was possibly a bit far but come and see me later

Darren: With pleasure

Candida: Ah do you need to see me too Boss?

Boss: No I don’t think so

Candida: So I guess Darren, you’re forgiven for killing Flossie?

Boss: What you killed Flossie? My only cat?

Darren: Er no.

Candida: How could you not know Darren, that isn’t very loyal of you

Boss: Flossie young man, was my poor sick cat. I congratulate you, saved me a fortune in vets fees

Candida: Excuse me?  Sorry Boss, it was me that accidentally killed your cat

Boss: What were you doing at my house?

Candida: Er delivering a report

Boss: You’ve never given me a report.   And you did a fairly messy job of scraping Flossie from the tyre

Candida: It was done with love Boss. Why is it OK if Darren killed Flossie but not me?

Boss: Because you try to succeed by pulling others down

Darren: Exactly, you don’t blow nearly enough smoke up the bosses…

Candida: I will try boss. Whatever it takes

Boss: Take a look at Darren. He tried religion and found his true calling

Darren: I did. The bosses image in a gold idol. I’m a true believer

Boss: Excellent spirit Darren, the ceremonial robes a nice touch. Goodbye Candida, pick up your things on the way out

Candida: Please give me another chance

Boss: With Darren by my side, I believe I can fly

Darren: And you can Master, you have the force

Boss: I do, I do have the force

Candida: Yes the force of all that smoke causing wind!  I’m off, but you’ll never get away with this. I haven’t played my trump card yet

FX: Door slams

Boss: Hmm do we have reason to be worried Darren?

Darren: No Sir. I know she has a weapon of mass destruction but I am sure you can transcend such things

Boss: Ah. Yes I probably can.  But I’m concerned about you Darren

Darren: You needn’t be, my atoms are here to serve

Boss: And that is why you are my number 2

Darren: Why Master what an honour. I shall be the biggest and best number 2 that was ever polished.

Boss: I’m sure you will

Darren: So erm.  Delicate matter, what pay rise would I receive?

Boss:  You mean serving me isn’t enough reward in itself?

Darren: But of course, only…

Boss: Then it’s sorted then.

Apple a day…

DOCTOR: Mr Turnbull, can you please come into the surgery.

MR TURBULL 1: Yes Doctor.

DOCTOR: Do have a seat.

FX: A door closes. A squeaky chair is sat on.

DOCTOR: Well we’ve done blood tests, an MRI and ultra sound and we now have an official diagnosis.

MR TURNBULL 1:  Yes Doctor?

DOCTOR: It would appear that you have two heads.

MR TURNBULL 2: ah der

Doctor: (sternly) Who said that? Ah there you are. I didn’t see you when you weren’t looking at me.

MR TURNBULL 1: With all due respect Doctor, I would have thought that was obvious

DOCTOR: Don’t be arrogant with me young man I’m the professional here.

MR TURNBULL 2: Well can e’ go? I want rid o’ im.

DOCTOR: What? amputate?

MR TURNBULL 2:  Aye

DOCTOR:  Well I hadn’t considered that. Are you fully aware how messy that’s going to be? It’s a lot of blood you know. Someone might trip.

MR TURNBULL 2: Appy to take em for a ride. E has to go.

MR TURNBULL 1: Shut up, you should. And where’d you pick that ridiculous accent up from?

MR TURNBULL 2:  Arrr arrr

FX:  Sound of gnashing teeth and then a slap.

MR TURNBULL 2:  Ouch!

MR TURNBULL 1:  Serves you right for trying to bite me.

DOCTOR:  (sternly) Mr Turnbull please. This is a house of medicine.

MR TURNBULL 1: Sorry Doctor, he gets out of control sometimes.

DOCTOR:  Hmmm well I will have to look into the procedure and see who isn’t on holiday to do it. That includes public holidays and general days of feeling a bit peaky. You meanwhile have to decide which head to lose.

MR TURNBULL 2: I ‘ave to stay as I’m the bigger head.

MR TURNBULL 1: But the smaller brain.

FX:  Sound of gnashing teeth and then a slap.

DOCTOR:  Mr Turnbull if you don’t control yourself I am going to send you to the Proctologist as punishment.

MR TURNBULL 1: We’ve already seen him, seems I talk down there as well.

MR TURNBULL 2: Aye Barry’s me friend, despite his breath.

DOCTOR:  Yes well. It’s a common complaint. Before I look into it are you sure about surgery? Surely 2 heads are better than 1.

MR TURNBULL 1: Not if I’m stuck with him. You should see his taste in women.

MR TURNBULL 2:  At least I like women.

DOCTOR:  Interesting. Well you’d better go Mr Turnbull, you have some thinking to do.

MR TURNBULL 2: Bit of a no brainer.

MR TURNBULL 1: He was asking us both.

FX:  A very unpleasant sound.

DOCTOR: My word! What was that?

MR TURNBULL 2: Barry’s vote’s wi me.