Author's Note: So...mjkittykat gave me the idea to expand on this...so it'll be expanded whenever I feel like it... :)
Disclaimer: I don't wanna say it...
You've reached Steven Meeks. I'm not able to reach the phone right now, but leave your name and number and I'll be sure to get back to you as soon as possible. If there's an emergency, call Gerard Pitts or the Science Department at Brown. I'll most likely be there. *beep*
"This is Nuwanda. I'm not giving you my number in case my father somehow tracks down this message as a way to track down me; which isn't going to happen. Anyway, I found the perfect girl for you over here Meeksie. AND SHE'S NOT A ROBOT! Excited? I thought you would be. Also, S&M does not stand for Sex and Marshmallow-sauce as originally thought. If somebody offers or suggests S&M you need to run in the other direction and never look back. Never. Look. Back. And what a boring answering machine message. It should go something like You've reached Meeks's love lair. I'm currently preoccupied luring co-eds into my sex dungeon, but leave your name, number, and favorite position, and I'll back to you when I need some satisfaction. I think that would be a rather entertaining message for your mom to hear, don't you? If I had a nifty little answering machine like yours, it'd go something like—"
Steven snorted when Charlie's rambling prolonged the amount of time allowed on the answering machine. He rolled his eyes, about to reach over to delete the message, when the machine announced there was another message. Retracting his hand, Steven raised an eyebrow and stared down in curiosity. He didn't usually receive many phone calls.
"It cut me off. Anyway, as I was saying, if I had a nifty little answering machine like yours, my message would go something like this: You've reached the Nuwandanator! Leave me your name, a description of your face, your astrological sign, and whether or not you like long walks on the beach. But most importantly, you need to tell me how flexible you are. Signing off.
"Or does that sound too dumb? Because I have a few different ideas for when I actually do somehow get my own machine once my father cuts off my inheritance for ditching Harvard and traipsing all over France. Which—have I mentioned?—is awesome! Also, another good number for emergencies is 911 my friend. Just remember that, okay?"
Steven rolled his eyes, grinning to himself for a moment before staring in shock when the robo-lady informed him that yet another message was waiting. He groaned, running a hand over the top of his hair and removing his glasses to clean them on the hem of his sweater.
"And another thing!" Charlie's voice boomed from the tiny speaker. "Ha ha, got ya. Anyway, I'll call you in another few days, since I refuse to give you my number. I feel like one of those annoying girls that teases you by flirting but then won't give you her digits. Ugh. Luckily I'm able to avoid that in France because well…I don't ask for numbers. I ask for…better things." A slightly evil laugh erupted from the machine before the click of Charlie hanging up.
For once in his life, Steven wasn't worried about Charlie. He was worried about Charlie's conquests.
