A Phone's Tale, Part 6

Where was I? Yes, sleep-walking through the batty rant of one of the most cynical a**holes. I mean, Phone. For all I know AM Steve may have been a saint. But in the PM, my Phone was insufferable. I do have to say though, that my annoyance is tinged with some ginger admiration. The guy never gave up. Every day was a new day, full of fresh new nuisance, a new prank to break out of his 4-inch, sleek prison. He would set off apps that would draw my pesky little, crazy-eyed, hyper-energetic, screwball cat, Sylvester 'Thuggie' Thuggerson Jr. to him. Yes, that his name, but that is its own story, which will have to wait. My older cat was too good for these baits. She never took to Steve, or his calls for play, but this little guy had unending energy to repeat his selfless acts of disservice every night.He is adorable, but, boy, what a pest! Phone would come to life, meow, or glow till this cat, climbed shelves and tables till he pawed at paraphernalia on the shelves till, thanks to Sylvester, C..RRR..A..S..H! A lot of clay vases and glassware was shattered, decorative stones and pens from penholders scattered, but the case for which I paid dearly, was worth its money. Not a scratch.

When his ploy of employing my cat didn't work, it was loud alarms at 4 AM that would give the stoutest of hearts a shake, or draining the device's battery, so that the phone would switch off automatically. Phone committed these petty nuisance so I would go up the wall. But patience in the penniless is oft underestimated by the pointlessly rich, and so it was with Phone. I was not deterred. I charged my phone, powered it back and slept through earth-shattering alarms.

When the threats fell flat, came the bribes. I would get anything I wanted, for life from Apple, he promised. All I had to do, was set him free, by breaking my phone. Of course, I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't call anyone. That was not an option. No one knew of his deal, his wife, friends, kids... no one. Now wait a minute, I said. Something didn't add up. When he first awoke in PM, he called to be brought to Steve. I assumed, after I knew that the Phone was possessed by Jobs, that it was his friend and Apple co-founder, Steve Wozniak. In fact, I did try to see if I could contact him, you know, but what I had to say was so far-fetched, I feared that they'd decidedly commit me to an asylum.

"Thank you for not doing something not-so-incongruously stupid", he snapped.

Phone explained, after a long, soft, agonized sigh. No, it was not Wozniak. It was a small helper program Steve had written to help his soul pass into Dylan, named of course after his favourite singer. No one could know about this deal with the phone-devil, that was part of the deal.

O...K...! Then, wait a minute again!

If no one knew, and no one COULD know, who the hell was going to send me all my Apple-products for life? This was sounding increasingly like a terrible bargain. I had to just shatter my one phone, and just wait, for this lunatic to ascend on some machine, and become reanimated, and then in his jubilance remember this worthless minion (me), and then condescend to send me the latest products for life? I said, do you take me for a fool Mister Phone? No way!