Video calls are awful, aren't they?
Squawked Mad Rosie on my screen.
She was a mad gothy Business Architect in her fifties from the office. We were on a conference call and waiting for El Jefe to join in and make it a sexy threesome.
I mean, why can't we use facetime? The picture quality on that is great?
Mad Rosie griped.
A torrent of digital snow blocks momentarily obscured her face and for a moment I thought I saw Zelda
Regretfully, the screen cleared and Mad Rosie's mug came back into focus.
Can you hear me?
She screeched, flapping her dead stick-like arms at the screen.
Erm, no. The audio is breaking up.
I lied as if I were a champion liar shaving a coconut.
Damn. I think my headset must be fucked. Ha, I was going to say excuse the language but you won't be able to hear me.
Mad Rosie made a weird grimace which gave me a start when I realised it was an attempt at a smile.
Sorry, Rosie. Didn't really get that. Your sounds is really choppy.
I said, rocking in my chair and holding the side of my head with one hand as if attempting to hear ground control over the screaming fury of my burning engines as I bought the old bird in for a hard landing.
I mean, why the fuck would they fucking do this to us, the bastards? My husband is getting paid to sit on his fucking arse eating crisps and watching TV all day!? And we have to work? With shitty laptops and shittier internet?
Mad Rosie half stood in anger before swiftly lowering herself in her seat. No doubt she was wearing stained pyjamas.
Filthy mare.
I waved at the side of my head in a universal sign of can't hear fuck all and raised a sympathetic eyebrow whilst making a flubbly-bubbly noise by exhaling though my pursed lips to show my appreciation of her predicament.
You can't hear me then, not at all now?
She huffed.
I can see your lips move but no sound at all. Maybe your mic is goosed.
I replied.
The screen split into three and El-Jefe joined the call, his chins wobbling slightly as if he had fallen from a great height.
Morning chaps. Apologies for being late.
He began.
No one can fucking hear me! This is shit. This is a fucking disgrace!?! Can't you lot sort this shit out!?
Mad Rosie interrupted him with a scowl.
El-Jefe twitched violently as if noticing the maid milking his nethers had very large hands and some distinct nine o'clock shadow going on.
Rosie. Cut the swearing, please? Despite home working we have standards to maintain.
He said in a very frosty and stilted tone.
Mad Rosie flushed harder than even her old womb had ever caused her as it dried out and cracked under the harsh sun of middle age.
Oh, my mic is working now? You can hear me? BoomDawg, you said you couldn't hear a thing?? Can you hear me now!?
She glared through her camera at my handsome visage on her side.
I nodded and smiled a sleekit smile.
But you said you couldn't hear me???
She wailed.
I laughed.
Pfft... Nonsense! Now, moving on...