William Coleman was jerked out of his silent reverie by the shrill ring of the telephone.
"Hello?" His voice cracked, rusty from disuse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello?"
"Do you have stains on your carpet that just won't come out no matter how hard you scrub?" the voice on the other end ejaculated. "Are you embarrassed about the state of your carpet when you have company? Do you have to cover stains with area rugs?" The voice paused to breathe.
"Um," began Coleman before he was cut off.
"Well you no longer have to worry about that because now there's Stain-Be-Gone! Tell me, do you have stains on your carpet?"
"Well, yes, but I'm not sure your product would be able to-"
"Stain-Be-Gone can get rid of any stain," the telemarketer asserted, sensing the man take the bait.
"Does it remove...blood?"
"Blood and all other bodily fluids!"
"That's good, but...I have a lot of blood to clean up."
"Doesn't matter. Stain-Be-Gone works miracles!"
"Six to eight pints of blood?"
The telemarketer was so distracted he didn't hear the click of the front door.
"How-how did you-"
William Coleman swung the lead pipe in his hand as hard as he could against the telemarketer's skull. Then, he hung up his cellphone and smiled. "Damn telemarketers."[/size][/size][/size][/size]
