Call No. 1

(Phone rings.)


SOLICITOR: Hello, Mr. Cthulhu?


SOLICITOR: Do you have good car insurance?

CTHULHU: I am an Elder God of the Damned. I don’t need that simplistic mode of transportation.

SOLICITOR: Well, I understand that you, as an elderly person, must pay a high premium.

CTHULHU: Cthulhu does not pay for anything.

SOLICITOR: I am sure that living on a fixed income can make affording good car insurance a difficulty. What if I told you that I could save you a minimum of 25 percent on your yearly premium?

CTHULHU: I hate human scum like you. You know, I could transport myself through this phone line and reveal myself in all of my horrible grandeur—causing you to live in a world of constant nightmares. You would pray for a swift death at my hands.

SOLICITOR: OK, OK. What about life insurance?

CTHULHU: … No thanks. (Hangs up.) Arrgh!

Call No. 2

PIZZA DELIVERY SERVICE: Hello, Salvatore’s Pizza Palace. How can I help you?

CTHULHU: I would like a Meat Lover’s Pizza, delivered to 235 Main St., Arkham.

PIZZA DELIVERY SERVICE: I’m sorry. We don’t deliver to Arkham.

CTHULHU: R’lyeh! I am one of the Great Old Ones. I am from the ancient primordial depths, and the sheer sight of me would strike such fear that you would find yourself in a nightmarish psychotic stupor for the rest of your life.

PIZZA DELIVERY SERVICE: Oh, yeah, buddy? How about my brother Vic going over there and breaking each of your fingers one by one while your family watches? See if that doesn’t strike fear in you.

CTHULHU: Arrgh! … Do I get a discount if I pick it up?

Call No. 3

(Phone rings.)

YOUNG MALE VOICE: Hello, is Spaghetti Face there? (Laughter in background.)

CTHULHU: How dare you disparage the mighty visage of Cthulhu! I have lived ages beyond the time of men. My horrible beauty is one to be worshipped … Besides, they’re feelers, not spaghetti—

YOUNG MALE VOICE: Hey, would you like an omelet to go with your pasta?

CTHULHU: Grrr! You stupid Callahan kids—you’re the ones who egged my house last Halloween, aren’t you? I ought to kill you—

YOUNG MALE VOICE: You and what army?

CTHULHU: I don’t need an army. One look at me and—

YOUNG MALE VOICE: And everyone runs away, you’re so ugly, Spaghetti Face …

(CTHULHU hangs up. CTHULHU sighs deeply.)

Call No. 4

PHONE COMPANY: Hello, you have reached the Arkham Phone Company. Our goal is to make your phone service the best. If you have a question about your service, press 1. If you wish to change or cancel your service, press 2.

(CTHULHU presses 2.)

PHONE COMPANY: If you wish to change your service, press 1. If you wish to cancel your service, press 2.

(CTHULHU presses 2.)

PHONE COMPANY: Please stay on the line while we connect you to an operator.

(CTHULHU waits.)

PHONE COMPANY: Hello, you have reached the Arkham Phone Company. Our goal is to make your phone service the best …

(CTHULHU hangs up. CTHULHU quietly weeps.)

Call No. 136 (One Month Later)

(Phone rings.)


SOLICITOR: Do you currently have a subscription to TV Guide?

CTHULHU: I’ll take it!

SOLICITOR: Uh, all right. But don’t you even want to hear about our subscription rates?

CTHULHU: I am ready to do your bidding. I will pay whatever you request. Whatever the Phone-Master wants … just don’t hurt me.

SOLICITOR: OK. Well, our current rate is $50 a year. Do I have your permission to bill you and start your subscription?

CTHULHU: Yes, sir.

SOLICITOR: Thank you.

(CTHULHU hangs up. CTHULHU sits and stares at the small black phone, awaiting its next instructions.)