You’re not goin’ to believe this, but there has been a resurgence of phone creatures in the last few days. At least at my house there has. Man, nearly every night I was home last week, I got a call from one of them. To refresh y’all’s memory, phone creatures are what I call those pesky sales people who call wantin’ to sell you somethin’. I like to mess with them. Heck, I figure if they’re gonna bug me, then I might as well bug ‘em right back. I got one just the other night.

“Yellow,” I said as I answered the phone. I didn’t hear a sound. “Yellow!” I said again, and louder. Then I heard that click that tells me that it’s a phone creature.

“Mr. Mitchum?” the creature said.

“Boy howdy that was fast,” I said.

“Uh, I beg your pardon?” the creature said.

“I didn’t leave a message more’n a minute ago,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, this is…” the creature tried to say.

“I know who it is,” I said. “Heck, I jist called you. Now, what’s a job like that gonna cost me?”

“Mr. Mitchum,” the creature tried again. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.  You see, I…”

“I told you what I was talkin’ about on yore blasted answerin’ machine, but I’ll tell you again. Now, listen carefully.”

“No, Mr. Mitchum.” said the creature.

“Don’t interrupt me boy,” I said. “Now, like I said, I got this here possum stuck in the commode and I can’t git ‘em out.”

“Mr. Mitchum…uh, did you say a possum?”

“Yes, I said a possum. Get the wax out of your ears,” I said. “Now, what I want to know is how much is it gonna cost me for you to come out and git it out?”

“Mr. Mitchum, we do not remove possum’s from commodes. What I’m callin’ about…”

“You call yourself a plumber, and you don’t unclog commodes?” I said.

“Sir, I’m not a plumber,” the creature said.

“You’re tellin’ me,” I said. “Look, it ain’t that big a deal. You see, I think the possum would go on down if it weren’t for his head. That’s the biggest head on a possum I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a few possums in my time.”

“Uh, Sir,” the creature said.  

“Yeah, there was this one that my ol’ dog Tally drug in one day. Tally’s dead now, don’t you know. Got run over by a hay baler.”

“Sir!”

“Yep,” I sniffed. “That there was a good dog. I didn’t even try to dig ‘em out of that hay bale neither.  I just buried the whole thang. You know, I just got to thinkin’.   wonder if I buried the right bale? That’d been a shame if I didn’t. Poor ol’ Tally might have been eaten by a cow or somethin’.”

“Mr. Mitchum!”

“Anywho, that possum ol’ Tally drug up had a big head, too. But not near as big as this one here in my commode. You know, I still don’t know how that blamed thang got in the house. I think my wife must’ve left the winder in the bedroom open the other night. She does that after she feeds me a big bean dinner, you know. Why one'st a squirrel got in the house. I like to have never got that blasted thang out.  it me four times on my big toe. It swelled up the size of a peach. I thought it was gonna explode a couple of times, but it finally went down.

“Mr. Mitchum!”

“Then there was that time a snake got in. Whoo wee boy!” I said. “My wife woke up and saw that thang wrapped around the foot board on the bed, and she throw'd a hissy fit. She grabbed the bedside lamp and started beatin’. She beat the bed. She beat the nightstand. And she beat me. Heck, she beat everythin’ but the blasted snake. I would have helped her, but I was bleedin’ too bad. Finally, that snake got enough entertainment and moseyed on back out the winder. It was two days before I got my wife settled. For awhile there, I thought we wuz gonna have to put her down. But, she got okay I guess. She still ain’t right, but she can still cook, so I keep her around.”

“MR. MITCHUM!” the creature yelled.

“What!” I exclaimed.

Then he settled down. “Mr. Mitchum. There is nothing I can do for you.”

“Well, what am I suppose to do with this possum? Heck, what am I supposed to do if I have to go to the bathroom? I sure ain’t gonna sit on that pot with him snappin’ down there. Plus, I hate havin’ to keep feedin’ the varmint.”

“I don’t know what to tell….” The creature stopped talkin’. “You mean it’s still alive?  And you’re feeding it?”

“Why sure,” I said. “I’d be plumb cruel to let the thang starve to death.”

“IIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGH!” he yelled and hung up.

“Ha! That’ll learn ya, dern ya!” I said to the phone as I hung up. I turned, and there she was. My dearly beloved, with that look on her face that said, “If I knew how those Egyptians pulled those mummies brains out through their noses, I’d try it on you.”

“What!” I said.

“Come into the bedroom with me,” she said.

I raised my eyebrows a couple of times and smiled.

“No,” she stated. “There’s a lamp in there with your name on it.”

 

All Rights reserved 2/22/2001