LPC: This is Joseph Sauer.

Joe: Hello?

Kathy: Hey, Joe, this is Patsy with ABQ drug testing.

Kathy: What is your last name, Joe?

Joe: Who is this?

Kathy: This is Kathy from ABQ Drug Testing.

Joe: Who are you?

Joe: I don't understand what.

Joe: What are you talking about?

Kathy: You’re supposed to come for a urine test?

Joe: You're a chicken shit criminal.

Joe: You're a criminal, you motherfucker.

Joe: Hello?

LPC: Hello, yeah. I'm already on this line.

LPC: Could you please hang up?

LPC: Who are you?

LPC: I'm already talking on this line, sir.

LPC: Would you please hang up so I can get back to my conversation?

Joe: What does this have to do?

Joe: Why did you call me to begin with?

LPC: I didn't.

LPC: Your phone keeps calling me for some reason.

Joe: How could it call you when I don't dial it?

LPC: Well, you must have a broken phone or something.

LPC: I don't know.

Joe: You talk to you're a criminal.

Joe: You're a chicken shit criminal.

Joe: You keep calling me.

Joe: And I have a soldier in my house, my grandson.

LPC: No, you don’t—

LPC: You don't have any.

Joe: Stop calling me, I said.

Man(1): —You're a criminal!—

Joe: You're a piece of shit.

Joe: Shit, shit.

Joe: You're shit.

Joe: Hello.

LPC: Hey, Joe.

Joe: Yes.

LPC: Hi, this is.

LPC: Sam. I live down the street. How are you?

Joe: Sam, who?

LPC: Uh, Sam Devito is my full name.

Joe: Yeah, and—and—and how do you know me?

LPC: Oh, I saw the sign.

Joe: What sign did you see?

LPC: Oh, I forgot. What street was that?

LPC: It was just nearby here.

LPC: But anyway, listen, I was just calling because I was going to stop by.

LPC: I got a special deal going on. I cut hair.

LPC: I was just going to come by and cut your hair tonight, okay?

LPC: Okay, it's only $35 for a haircut.

Joe: I'm not inviting anybody, you know, I'm 94 years of age.

LPC: Well, you still need your haircut!—

LPC: You could be a hundred and five.

Joe: But you're right.

Joe: You're 100% right.

LPC: I know.

Joe: But I don't take just haircut just to go to anybody.

Joe: My granddaughter gives it to me anyway.

LPC: Oh, I'm the best.

Joe: You could be the best.

Joe: I don't know you, and I don't want to do it.

LPC: So I'm going to come over at 6 o'clock, and I'll cut your hair and clean you up, okay?

LPC: And it's just 85.

Joe: I understand when I say, no, you say you're going to force me to come up?

Joe: I don't like that.

Joe: You don't like that?

Joe: Now you're talking like a criminal to me.

LPC: You're going to look real good.

LPC: You're going to love the way you look.

Joe: I said, no.

Joe: God bless you.

Man(1): —We’re talking about scissors sharper than a donkey’s bite!

LPC: These are sharp scissors.

Joe: I think of a shit.

Joe: And I say no.

Joe: Yes, you listen to what I say.

Woman(1): Hello.

Man(2): Hello.

Joe: Hello?

LPC: Hi.

Joe: Who’s this?

LPC: This is Toby.

LPC: I'm going to cut your hair.

LPC: I talked to you earlier.

Joe: You're sort of a bitch, if you're not going to quit.

Joe: I'm calling the FBI right down on you.

Joe: You're a son of a bitch, criminal.

LPC: Don't do that.

LPC: Please don't do that.

Joe: You're a piece of shit.

Joe: Shit.

Joe: You're off.

LPC: I’m gonna cut your hair like nothin’ you’ve ever seen before.

Joe: Hello?

Man(3): Yeah?

Joe: Yeah?

Man(3): Yeah.

Joe: Who are?

Man(3): Yes.

Joe: Who are you?

Man(3): I don’t know! Who are you?

Joe: Why are you calling me?

Man(3): Who's going to pay?

Joe: Why are you calling me?

Man(3): I don't have money.

Man(3): I need a lot of money to buy food a lot.

LPC: We have the African sweet buns for sale.

LPC: Real sweet.

Joe: chicken shit. Get off my phone.

Joe: You son of a bitch.

Joe: You a piece of shit.

Joe: Shit. Shit.

Joe: Hello.

LPC: Hey, Joe.

Joe: Yes.

LPC: This is Dion Fairchild.

LPC: Your neighbor. I've got Morgan on the phone here who's a realtor and he's going to help sell

LPC: your house for you, okay? Say hello.

Joe: You’re a sonofabitch criminal!—

Joe: Drop dead, you bastard.

LPC: You're going to let him sell your house.

Joe: I'm dead.

Joe: Now drop that, you bitch.

Joe: You're a chicken shit.

Joe: You're a chicky shit.

LPC: You're going to let this guy steal your house.

LPC: You got it?

Joe: Hello.

LPC: Hey, that's Big Red.

LPC: What do you need from me here?

Joe: I need you to drop that.

Joe: Mother fucking chicken shit, piece of shit.

Joe: Criminal.

Joe: Your piece of shit.

Joe: God is going to punish you.

Joe: You're going to drop that right.

Joe: Your motherfucker piece of shit.

Joe: Shit.

LPC: Oh, hey! This is Alex. How’re you doin’?

Joe: Okay, Alex, what?

LPC: Uh, Alex Knox.

Joe: Why’re you calling me?

LPC: ‘Cause I was gonna bring Thor and Georgia up to you and, ah, introduce you guys to each other.

LPC: Who is Georgia?

LPC: Thor and Georgia; they’re a couple.

Joe: Why? Why’re you—w—I still don’t understand why!—why you want to introduce me to me. [sic]

LPC: Because maybe you can give them some.

LPC: money for their wedding present.

Joe: What the hell do I have anything to do with it?

LPC: Joe, let's just meet you, me and...

Joe: Listen, I'll call the police if you want to.

Joe: You don't lay off, you son of a mix.

Joe: Get up, you're up, you're criminal.

LPC: Let’s get together this afternoon, okay?

Joe: Yeah, you drop dead.

Joe: I have my soldier here.

Joe: And he has plenty of guns.

Joe: You're going to be taken apart to pieces.

Joe: I have my grandson, it lives with me.

Joe: and he was in the army for three and a half years

Joe: and he will shred you up to pieces.

Joe: I swear to God

Joe: and he will set you up in one second to pieces.

Joe: Your motherfucking chicken shit, lay off.

Joe: Lay off, you fucker.

Joe: Come over to my house.

Joe: And you will be dropping that in one split second.

Joe: You son of a bitch.

Joe: Get a job, motherfucker.

Joe: You're ruining this country, motherfucker.

Joe: Your piece of shit.

Joe: Lay off.

Joe: You're a shit, shit, shit, shit.

Joe: Hello.

Man(4): Hi.

Joe: Hello.

Man(4): —uh, hi! Can you hear me?

Joe: Yes.

Man(4): Hi.

Man(4): Yeah, I've been talking with Sylvester, and he wanted me to jump on the phone with you.

Man(4): Maybe you can help explain a little bit more about his situation and what he was doing?

Joe: What situation?

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

Joe: Why are you calling me?

Joe: Huh?

Man(4): He mentioned you could talk with me about a bicycle trip he was just on.

Joe: You motherfucker fucking chicken criminal.

Joe: Get off my world, you son of a bitch.

Joe: You call me again, you'll be in jail locked.

Joe: You bastard.

Joe: You piece of shit!

Joe: Shit!

None: Shit!

Joe: Hello.

LPC: Hey, uh, Joe.

Joe: Yes.

LPC: Hey, it's Jeff Roel.

LPC: How you doing?

Joe: Jeff, who?

LPC: Hey, I just wanted to let you know, we got Tyler.

LPC: He's going to play drums with us.

LPC: I just wanted you to say hi to Tyler.

LPC: Right here.

Joe: You're a motherfucking chicken shit criminal.

Joe: If you don't stop, I know that the way you live.

Joe: And I have a soldier in my house.

Joe: He came from the army, and he's going to shred you to pieces.

Joe: I swear to God.

Joe: You do that one more, you son of a bitch.

Joe: You'll be shredded to pieces.

Joe: You hear that?

LPC: Why don't you just take you know.

Joe: You're a son of a bitch.

Joe: You're a motherfucker chicken shit criminal.

Joe: You do this one more time and we’ll come to your house and we’ll shred you up to pieces!—

Joe: Hello.

Man(5): Can I help you?

Joe: Who are you?

Joe: What is your name?

Joe: Why are you calling me?

Man(5): Excuse me?

Man(5): Who the hell is this?

Joe: I think you're a criminal.

Joe: You're a criminal.

Joe: motherfucker chicken shit criminal.

Joe: Otherwise, you would say who you are.

Joe: Anybody that calls me,

Joe: tells me who he is.

Joe: Without your name,

Joe: you know what's going on nowadays.

Joe: You're a motherfucker criminal.

Joe: And I'm going to report you.

Joe: —I’m gonna report you to the police—

Joe: you're not going to report you to the police, you're chicken shit.

Man(5): Huh?

Man(5): Who the hell is,

Man(5): who the hell is this?

Joe: Who do you wanna talk to?

Man(5): I was just speaking with someone named Ishmael.

Man(5): Who is this?

Joe: Who do you wanna talk to?

Joe: —What’s the name you wanna talk to, you—

Joe: You're chicken shit.

Joe: Who do you want to talk to?

Joe: You're criminal.

Joe: You're nothing but a criminal.

Joe: You're going to be arrested tonight, you're motherfucker.

Man(6): Hello?

Joe: Yes.

Joe: Yes, why?

Joe: Hello?

Man(6): Hello?

Joe: Yes.

Man(6): What can I do for ya?

Joe: Why you're calling me?

Joe: Did you have my mail?

Joe: Why are you calling me?

Joe: My phone rang.

Joe: I didn't call you.

Joe: You did not call me?

Man(6): No, sir, I didn’t!—

Joe: Well, then you're a bunch of criminals,

Joe: and I'm calling the police right now.

Joe: You're ruining America.

Joe: Your motherfucking chicken shit.

Joe: Criminals!

Joe: Besters!

Joe: Drop dead, you son of a bitch!

Man(6): Thank you.