Making calls

Keith slipped his arms through his white lab coat as he hurried into the basement where his "office" was. He made sure to shut the door quietly and lock it so Alice wouldn't yell at him, then walked over to his desk.

After he plopped down in his chair, he spun around and flipped open his Mecbook Pro, and opened up Gogole. He first searched: 'businesses for rent.'

Immediately, he was recommended millions of results.

"Hmm, Ferachio Street, $5,000 a month... no thanks. Denbu Lane, $4,300 a month. Nah. Oppai North, $6,000 a month. Yeah right..."

Keith continued to eliminate the potential places to set up his lab buntil he came to a listing that made his eyes shine. "Bob's Gas and Pork-Loins, rent $20 a month. Located directly beneath the overpass on highway 199. Phone 976-342-****"

Keith quickly pulled out his phone and began to dial the number. Hering the dial tone, he sat in rapt anticipation. Slowly, 10 seconds passed. He sighed. Just as he was about to hang up, he heard the other side pick up.

"Heller? This be Bob's Gas n' Pork-loyuns. Are ye callin' fer the gas or the pork-loyuns?" The man on the other side sounded exactly like you'd expect a country hick to sound.

"Ah, actually I was calling because I was interested in renting your place. It said $20 a month, right?" Keith immediately asked.

"Yea, the rent is $20 bucks a munth. Whey? You think thets too much? I can do $10 a munth, thets fine." Bob quickly lowered the price as he thought Keith was going to complain about it.

"That's fine, that works for me!" Keith said excitedly. "Can I come down around noon?"

"Uhhhhhh, okey. I'll get some ol' fashon, juscie, succulent, pork loyuns on the gril fer ya, and we cun transfr the ownrship rights."

Nodding, Keith agreed and hung up the phone. A second after he froze. "Ownership right? I thought I was just renting!... oh well, moving on."

Intrigued, he looked up some reviews for Bob's Gas and Pork-Loins on Gogole.

Bob's Gas and Pork-Loins

Reviews:

1 star: there was motor oil on my pork loins.

1 star: No wonder the price of gas was so cheap! My car blew up shortly after pulling out of the gas station.

1 star: I'm mildly convinced that the owner is a white supremacist, not sure though. I got out of there as fast as I could, before I could find out.

Keith squinted his eyes. "Hmm, don't see any problem here. Let's find a good sponsor, why don't we?"

He created a new tab and searched: 'Genetic-engineering labs,' and began to collect numbers of the places he wanted to collaborate with.

He one again picked up his phone and began dialing.

---

"Hello? KKK?"

*Brzt* "Uh, no sir, this is Kleins Klinic for Klones, I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from calling us that for now on. Otherwise, how may we be of service to you today?" A young woman answered the phone somewhat annoyed. You have absolutely no idea the amount of lawsuits they've had to go through because of their acronym.

"Well, I am starting a new project and have rented out a lab space, but am in desperate need of employees and materials to conduct experiments." Keith replied poignantly.

"Well sir, we here at Kleins Klinic for Klones pride ourselves on our expert cloning procedures, practices, and results. While our clones aren't able to function autonomously, they will be able to take simple directions and can be programed separately. Are you interested?"

"Yes I am," Keith said excitedly. "Let's talk prices!"

...

"Hello? Radioactive Cockroach Inc. I'm calling about your carbon based @#$%@"

...

"Hello? Keith Richards Foundation for Immortality? I was calling to ask if I could perhaps borrow a vial of Keith's blood for my research..."

...

"Hello? Is this Gary 'Noodleneck' McLarry?"

"Ah, yes, this is Gary. And whoever told you my nickname was Noodleneck, tell them I said 'fuck off!'... Now, what can I do for you mr...?" The man on the other end of the line had a very lazy sounding voice.

"Keith," Keith replied. "Ronnie 'Wetneck' Rogers told me to give you a call. Maybe you could help me out here?"

"Oh sheiiit," Gary said from the other side. "Me n' old Wetneck go waaay back. Tell me. How's that son of whore doing?"

"Uh, fine I guess. Look, listen. He told me to give you a call. I have this big project I'm working on and he said you might know people who might know people who might know people who know people, who might know someone who can help me out." Keith redirected the conversation again.

"Oh sure," Gary replied. "Hey, listen. Just last week an old buddy of mine came in talkin' about how he can't get a job or something like that."

"Do you think he'll fit?" Keith asked excitedly.

"Ohhh yeah," Gary replied nonchalantly. "He's a real retro dude... He's got a mullet!"

"Oh for reals? What's his name?" Keith asked.

"He calls himself, 'Hackerman,' now. Here let me read off his resume real quick for ya." On the other side of the line, Gary started rustling papers until he pulled one out. "He's got brown eyes, aviator glasses, a mullet and is roughly 6 feet tall. He sounds like your man, all right!"

"What does he do though?!" Keith asked. No way was he going to hire someone without a particular set of skills. That would just be stupid.

"Well, he's really good with computers. It says here that he worked with a Kung Fu cop to build a time machine, and even managed to defeat hitler. I don't know man. This all sounds pretty impressive to me." Gary set down the paper and waited for Keith's answer.

"You know what. He sounds great. Give him a call and i'll hire him!" Keith replied excitedly.

"Sure, sure. By the way Keith. What do you even do?" Gary asked as he started to search for Hackerman's number.

"Oh, I'm a genetic engineer, working on a project to create cat girls!" Keith was very proud of this.

"Uhhh, ok then. here, I found his number. Let me give him a call real qui-" Gary started to speak.

*Brrzt* "No need Gary," a voice suddenly appeared on the line. "Hey Keith, I'm hackerman. I was listening the whole time. I'll tell you what. Go to Bob's gas station and I'll meet you there." With that he hung up the phone.