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[Judging from the generously loud rattling of the phone being picked up all too quickly, it's quite clear to say that the person by which the phone is being handled isn't.... happy, to say the least.
Drugged? No, there aren't any signs of it. Kidnapped? Well, there wouldn't be much of a motive, would there?]
Miyagi, pick up your damn phone!
[But then it dawns on him that there's no ringing, no response, and not even an answering machine. Darn. Maybe it wouldn't place international calls, since this place sure didn't seem like Japan.]
I refuse to believe that there isn't someone at the other end of this line. If this is some kind of joke, it's not funny.
[Residents of 1762 Beaver Street can also find one (1) sandy-haired 18 year old stomping down the stairs and observing the first floor with crossed arms before walking outside and taking a lap around the house. Yeah, good luck with this one.]
Drugged? No, there aren't any signs of it. Kidnapped? Well, there wouldn't be much of a motive, would there?]
Miyagi, pick up your damn phone!
[But then it dawns on him that there's no ringing, no response, and not even an answering machine. Darn. Maybe it wouldn't place international calls, since this place sure didn't seem like Japan.]
I refuse to believe that there isn't someone at the other end of this line. If this is some kind of joke, it's not funny.
[Residents of 1762 Beaver Street can also find one (1) sandy-haired 18 year old stomping down the stairs and observing the first floor with crossed arms before walking outside and taking a lap around the house. Yeah, good luck with this one.]
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