Ficly

It.

“Stop. You’re doing that all wrong.”
Who was talking? I was at home, alone, doing my homework. Just another Tuesday night. Whatever. I turned back to the calculator app embedded in my cellphone. In any case, there was no way I was going to respond to an imaginary voice.
“Just wait for a second.”
32221 n +2503 x 250-
“If you punch that number, I swear, I’ll zap you so hard you won’t be able to see straight for a week.”
Woah. “Okay, what? This had better not be some kind of sick joke.”
“Oh, I’m not a joke.”
“So what are you?”
" I’m your cellular communication unit."
“My cell phone? What? You can talk?”
“Yes, I can talk – but let’s focus on the reason for this conversation, instead of on the limits of your imagination.”

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