Yes, I did type all of this by myself, once again...'tis an attempt to make a script form of it, so that my friends and I can reenact it. :)
(Whitney enters, pulling a suitcase)
Friend: Oh hey, Whitney, how was your flight?
Whitney: It was so good, thank you so much for picking me up at the airport!
Friend: No problem, I brought you this!
Whitney: OH MY WORD, thank you so much. 'Kay, I know I was only gone for two days but, honestly, not having my phone with me was so miserable. Now I know how the pioneers felt!
Friend: (Wheeling suitcase away) I'll bring your luggage to the car!
Whitney: Okay, I'll just check my messages...(she sighs a bit)
(Phone rings) Recorder: (In feminine robotic voice) You have, 95, new, messages.
Whitney: Um, wow...
Recorder: First. Message.
Matt: Hey, Whit, it's Matt. Uh, hope you're having fun at your great-uncle's funeral. Look, anyway, uh, I was just calling about your dog? I know you gave me very specific instructions on what to feed him, but I've got a hypothetical question for you. What if he maybe got confused and ate all of your laundry detergent? And then vomited all over your bed? Hypothetically! Okay, thanks, bye.
Whitney: Ah, man!!
Recorder: Next. Message.
Veronica: (In Spanish accent) Carlos, my love, is Veronica. Les run away together, mi amor. You are a beautiful, beautiful Nicaraguan man and I love you.
Whitney: (Laughing) Uh, okay!
Recorder: Next. Message.
VT: (upbeat voice) Hey Whit, this is your visiting teacher, just wanted to know if there was some time I could come by next—
Recorder: Message skipped. Next. Message.
Veronica: Carlos, I do not understan why you do not call me back! It has been hours and hours! And who on earth is that woman on your answering ma-sheen? CALL ME BACK you filthy traitor!
Whitney: (Laughs incredulously)
Recorder: Next. Message.
Veronica: CARLOS!! (Whitney flinches) WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU ARE GIVING UP THE BEST CHIQUITA YOU WILL EVER GET IN—
Recorder: Message skipped.
Veronica: (Sobbing) Carlooooos? I just want to talk to youuuuu...
Recorder: Message skipped.
Doctor: Hi Whitney, this is Docter Alv, you have a cancerous—
Recorder: Message skipped.
Whitney: Wait, what? (Talks into phone)
Matt: Uh, hey Whit, it's Matt again. Look, uh, remember yesterday when I left you a message and said that your dog hypothetically ate your laundry detergent? It wasn't hypothetical. And he's been foaming at the mouth, and, and vomiting everywhere, and...and I think that he now craves human blood. (Whitney has alarmed expression on her face)...He's been hunting me all day. ...I've barricaded myself in your closet, but I might not make it. I'm afraaaiiiid, Whitney!
Recorder: Next. Message.
Criminal: Carlos. Carlos.
Whitney: Who the heck is Carlos??
Criminal: I'm just calling to tell you that we've reached phase 3. I repeat. We've reached phase 3. And by that, I mean I put the bomb where you told me to. You're my number one customer. See ya. (Whitney's breathing gets more panicked.)
Recorder: Next. Message.
Agent: This is Special Agent Nisson with the FBI. Carlos—I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want, but have a very particular set of skills. And I will find you. And I will kill you. (Whitney is shocked and scared, VERY panicked now.)
Recorder: Next. Message.
Whitney: Oh my gosh!
Triumphant Mexican Man: THE GAME IS UP, CARLOS! I finalleh found you! I tracked this numero, and to repay you for what you did to ma familia, I BURRRNED your house to de ground! Huh-huh-ha! Now your casa and your weirdly feminine throw-pillows are nothing but the ASHES!
Whitney: (Whimpers)
Recorder: Next. Message.
Matt: HE ATE MY HAND!!! (Whitney's in shock) Your rabid beast of a dog ate my hand!...Also, your house is on fire. ...What is up with that?
(Lights black)
Recorder: End of, messages.
And now ze link, of course, so that you may see it in person...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_PMYKw5-vQ
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