Hello. My name's Maddox. I'm five years old. Will you help me? The balloon-lipped lady who calls herself my mommy is crazy. She told me that if I don't learn how to work with the camera soon, she'll give me to Pete Townshend and adopt another Cambodian baby to take my place. I don't want to go to Pete Townshend! Please help me!
Hello? Hello? FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL OF YOU, YOU FUCKERS! FUCK YOU AND—what's that, sweety? No, mommy's busy right now. Why? Mommy has to leave her message on the phone. So the fuckers will know what to do when they call and mommy's not home, that's why. Why do you have to ask so many fucking questions, anyway? I'm not Jesus. Now bring mommy her pills. I said NOW, you little shit!
Hey, this is O.J. Simpson. I'm not here right now, so leave a message. Seriously, I’m not here. Why would I lie? But if I WAS here, I'd probably be watching TV with my kids, Tubby and What's-Her-Face. But that's all hypothetical, you understand? So leave a message and I'll call you back.
This is Snipes. Gonna be outta the country for a little while. Could be a LONG while, actually. How long does that statute of limitations thing last, anyway? But hey, if this is urgent—say, you really need a brother who can sorta act, and can make that kung fu shit look half decent as long as there ain't no Asians on screen at the same time—try Mario Van Peebles. I don't know his number, but just stand on any street corner in Hollywood and holler his name. He'll hear you.
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