None: Oh.

LPC: Yeah, Chris, what's up, man?

LPC: This is Donnie. Roll on.

LPC: I met you over at Yarmouth.

LPC: It was fishing the one time.

LPC: And, uh, buddy, I think you may have taken some of my fish most recently when I was up there.

Chris: I don't know, I don't know what you're talking about.

Chris: What do you mean?

Chris: I might have talked to some of your fish.

LPC: I just want to get them back is what I mean.

LPC: You had them, you put them in your truck and you took off.

LPC: What?

Chris: No, no, no, no, bud.

Chris: You got the wrong fucking number.

Chris: Don't you start accusing me a fucking sweet shit.

LPC: Hey, I was there, too, guy.

LPC: I saw what happened.

LPC: You got me?

Chris: Who the fuck are you looking for?

Chris: Who are you looking for to start with?

LPC: I'm looking for you for Chris.

LPC: I met you at Yarmouth, fair and square.

LPC: Guy.

Chris: You met me at Yarmouth, fair and square.

LPC: I was fishin’ there all day!—

LPC: I got off the ferry, and I was fishing all day long.

LPC: You come along, and you take my freaking fish, and he took off in your truck.

LPC: What do you want for me?

LPC: I just want them back.

Chris: I never took your fuckin’ fish!

LPC: Just give them back.

LPC: That's all I got to say.

Chris: I don't know who the fuck you're talking about.

Chris: Go fuck yourself.

LPC: I want me to push you around?

LPC: What do you think of that?

Chris: Sure.

Chris: Go for it, man.

Chris: Because I don't got a clue who you are.

Chris: I have no idea what you're talking about.

LPC: You took my freaking fish, tough guy.

Chris: I took your fish.

Chris: Justin, do you know some, Donnie, that I sold fish?

Chris: Did I sell you fish?

LPC: Donnie Rollon.

LPC: That's my name.

LPC: You took my freaking fish guy, and I had eight, ten of them sitting there.

LPC: Now I got nothing.

LPC: You scoop them up, and you took off in your freaking truck.

Chris: I didn't.

Chris: No, I did not.

Chris: Somebody's using the false number aggravated me, because I'm going to tell you why.

Chris: I did Justin Nussville's trying to say I pulled up to his truck,

Chris: and yarm on some Donnie Roland and took 10 fish off his tailboard.

Chris: I hate fish.

Chris: You go fuck yourself, you piece of shit.

LPC: I'm going to push you down.

LPC: How's that sound?

LPC: Next time I see you, tough stuff.

Chris: Hello.

LPC: Hey, guy, I'm going to throw you out the window.

LPC: How's that sound to you?

Chris: I hope you do, honestly, because I honestly don't got a clue who you are.

Chris: I'm outstall driving right now in the Bay of Fundy.

Chris: Believe me, I ain't been nowhere near your fucking truck.

LPC: I’m gonna drive your truck off a cliff and throw ya through the window!

Chris: You're going to see.

Chris: You know what you can do?

Chris: I'm Mr. Peacock.

Chris: You can suck me the fuck off.

Chris: Dolly?

Chris: Hello?

LPC: Hey, buddy.

LPC: Listen, just $100 for the fish.

LPC: You reimburse me and we'll call it good.

LPC: This is Donnie.

LPC: Okay?

LPC: Donnie roll on here.

LPC: I can stop by and pick it up.

LPC: That's no problem.

Chris: You come right to my house and come get it, bud. I’ll be waitin’ for ya—

Chris: 6-9-39.

Chris: See you in a bet.

LPC: I just wanna work it out, alright?

Chris: Oh, you're going to work it out.

Chris: You come to my house, come pick it up.

Chris: House number 6-9-39, pouring out back.

Chris: of the household, but I got something for you.

Chris: I got you $100 and a little surprise.

Chris: Come on up, just to be a nice fella.

Chris: And I'm going to tell you something, Mr. Peacock or Hellfrog.

Chris: You keep fucking sending him prank, fucking phone calls to me,

Chris: and I promise you, if I have a funny dude, I'll rip your fucking throat out.

Chris: So you come right up to my house right now.

Chris: Come on, Hell Frog or Peacock.

Chris: Come on up.

Chris: I'll be waiting.

LPC: I'll promise you of bandaging.

LPC: I'll bandage you from head to toe.

LPC: You feel me?

LPC: Because I ain't fiddling around guy.

LPC: You mess with a man's fish.

Chris: Fiddling around.

Chris: Come on up.

Chris: I like to fettle around with you.

Chris: Come on.

LPC: Hey.

LPC: You fiddled with a man's fish.

LPC: You're fiddling with this livelihood.

LPC: You understand.

Chris: I never talk to fish.

LPC: Buddy, you're fiddling with my fish.

LPC: I saw you do it.

Chris: Ah, you know what, man.

Chris: Suck my fucking deck.

Chris: Goodbye.

LPC: I'll shove you into the ground.

LPC: I'm tired of messing with you.

Chris: Hello.

LPC: Buddy, why don’t you just send me an online payment—a hundred dollars? And then we’ll call it good!—

LPC: —‘Cause I’m tired o’ messin’ around here!—

Chris: Go up and fish up your ass, eyeballs first.

LPC: I don't have my freaking fish, tough guy.

LPC: You took them and split.

LPC: I was there.

Chris: Yes, I got them right here in the fridge.

LPC: I know ya do!

Chris: Yes, so you know you're damn right.

Chris: You know what I get you.

Chris: That's the way I'm telling you.

Chris: Come on out and get them.

Chris: I'll stuff them up your ass.

Chris: How would you like them?

Chris: Tail first or eyeballs?

LPC: You don't know how to fish.

LPC: Is that it?

LPC: You're no damn good with the fishing rod, are you?

Chris: Oh, I don’t use a fishin’ rod, bud. I use a scollop drag.

LPC: I'm going to use.

LPC: my bare hands.

Chris: I wish you would.

Chris: I'd like me to come up.

LPC: What do you think of that?

LPC: And then I'm going to take you down.

LPC: I'm going to show you how to fish.

LPC: I'm going to show you how to fish first and from the master.

LPC: You understand?

LPC: Because I'm not kidding around.

LPC: Just send me an online payment.

LPC: Quit joking around.

Chris: Yeah, give me some numbers.

Chris: Let me send it to you.

Chris: And that way you ain't going to keep called my fucking number.

LPC: It’s “[email protected]”.

Chris: Good.

Chris: Okay.

Chris: Perfect.

Chris: See ya.

Chris: Hello.

Bryson: Hi, this is Trot Waters.

Bryson: How's it going?

Chris: Who's us?

Bryson: This is Bryson.

Bryson: Trot Waters.

Chris: Who is us?

Chris: I have no idea who you are.

Bryson: We're Trot Waters flying tackle.

Bryson: Your buddy said you picked up someone else's fish.

Chris: Oh, go fuck off.

Chris: You know that?

Chris: You go fuck off, Jerome.

Chris: I'll see you in your contact before you fucking know it, buddy.

Bryson: [to LPC ] He just told me to “f off” ‘cause he didn’t know who this was.

Bryson: Thank you.