"He's busy," the lady at the other end of the line said and the ash at the tip of Dennis' cigarette fell onto his carpet because he jerked bolt upright in his Lazy-boy, grabbed the phone tighter and screamed, "What?"
"Which word did you not understand?" the lady said calmly, her voice turning cold, like a heater gone bad.
"Wait," Dennis said, jabbing his cigarette finger into the air as he spoke. He clutched the phone tighter. "I paid for his services."
"I understand Mr..."
"Mr. Butter."
"... Mr. Butter. But you must understand that Mr. Tobias is a very busy man."
Dennis got up from his Lazy-boy. "But lady you don't understand. I have to talk to him right now! Now just look here now, I..." Dennis' tone suddenly changed to that of a five year old kid pleading for another stick of bubble gum. "This won't take a minute, five minutes tops. Just tell him it'll be five minutes, I promise."
"Excuse me Mr. Butter. Will you hold please?"
"I..." There was a click on the other side of the line and Dennis found himself listening to some strange piano music with an occasional bird chirp or two and the sound of water flowing in the background. There was nothing to be done about it but to sit down again and hold on to his end of the receiver. Dennis stared vacantly at his small apartment. The apartment was relatively bland and dull, nothing very eye catching. "Moby Dick", "Reader's Digest" and "The Dummy's Book to Automobile Maintenance" were in a pile on the floor beside the Lazy-boy. By the open window, there was an old television set. Dennis had attached strips of aluminum to stick out from all sides of the box in an attempt to improve color, sound and quality of the reception. In a corner of the living room, there was a dull, bronze bird cage with a dead parakeet lying on the floor of the cage.
Dennis tugged at the cuff of his pants. Suddenly there was a loud, jarring cut to the piano music, followed by a few beeps.
Dennis hung on, listening intently.
"Hello? Hello?"
The other end of the line went dead.
"Damn," he muttered. There was only one logical thing left to be done. Dennis would have to go and see Mr. Tobias in person. Although the advertisement did say that Mr. Tobias would be easily accessible through the phone. In fact, didn't it say that Mr. Tobias had just installed a new 24 hour feature to his phone lines and that he could now be reached any time of the day? Where was that damn advertisement? Dennis began pulling open drawers and searching through his file cabinets. It was so important, especially his receipt of purchase, that he had decided to keep it carefully stored. Now that was the problem. Where had he kept those documents? Dennis looked under his bed and banged his head against the bed post as he got up. "Ouch..." he said, rubbing his sore head and then he looked up and saw Porky, his piggy bank. He remembered who was supposed to guard the documents.
He turned Porky over and retrieved the papers from Porky's belly.
One was the advertisement that he had cut out from the newspapers. It said:
Why pray to God when you can talk to Mr. Tobias? Unlike the childish legends of a god you cannot even see, Mr. Tobias is here in flesh and blood. You can see him, talk to him, tell him your problems and Mr. Tobias will make all your problems go away. Mr. Tobias is the answer to every man's needs! Just a phone call away, just a block down the street, Mr. Tobias is your friend and he's waiting to hear from you.
How can I help you? is what you will hear from Mr. Tobias at all times. And helped he has. Just talk to the hundreds who have made friends with Mr. Tobias. None are disappointed. None have gone away unfulfilled. Here is what they have to say:
"Mr. Tobias is like the father I never had! It seems as if he knows me so intimately... everything I've ever been afraid of, everything I've ever wanted. I lost my job... Mr. Tobias was able to give me one back instantly!" Sandy Jacobs, accountant.
"At first I was skeptical, you know, like who's this Mr. Tobias dude? But then like I realized after I met him, man, what a cow, I mean what a radical cow and so like now man I realize the question is really what can this dude do for me and the answer to that is everything man, like really radical." Jaws, biker.
So what are you waiting for? Pick up the phone now and call this number and you too can become a friend of Mr. Tobias. We've even added a new 24 hour system that gives you easy access to Mr. Tobias any time of the day, any time of the night! Just one lifetime fee of $2,999 gives you unlimited access to Mr. Tobias and you never have to pay a single cent again for the rest of your life!
The other piece of paper that Dennis held in his hand was an acknowledgment of the money sent and an official welcome to the world of Mr. Tobias. Dennis looked for the address and found it easily. "24th and Mint Street. Hmm..." Dennis thought. "That should not be too difficult to find." He put on his coat and got on a bus. As the bus approached 20th Street, Dennis began to see a long line of people snaking all the way down the street and even along the side streets and around buildings.
"Hmm..." Dennis thought. "I wonder what all those people are doing out there. I didn't know there would be a parade today." As he was staring with curiosity at all the people and pondering this question, a slight commotion broke out on the bus. A young mother was trying to break up a fight between her two little boys and the poor woman looked quite overwhelmed.
"Now stop it Bobby! Now stop it Jake!" was about as much as she could say as the two young boys punched at each other and her legs, as she tried to get in between them.
"Give it me!" Bobby or Jake yelled.
"No, you give it me!" Jake or Bobby screamed back. Dennis could make out the object of their argument. It was a small red fire-truck.
"Give it me or Mr. Tobias'll fire you up!" one said to the other.
Just then the bus stopped at 24th Street and Dennis got off. He looked up and saw a very ordinary-looking house with the words "Humble Dwellings of Mr. Tobias" written on a sign on the front lawn. Dennis was a little surprised. He had expected something a little more office-like, more professional-looking, perhaps. But then he remembered that Mr. Tobias was his friend and not a business associate of some sort. Knowing this, it was only fitting that he lived in a very normal looking house. And not only a very normal looking house, but one with a very long line of people waiting to enter.
By the time Dennis joined the long queue, it had extended all the way down to 16th Street. But that was okay, Dennis