Phone rings. I answer.

“Hello?…. Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?”

The sound of silence. But no, not quite silence. Quietly punctuated by faint laughter, the distant, distinct sound of Chef from South Park singing Chocolate Salty Balls.

Someone must have sat on their phone, and dialled our number. This has happened before, and it’s frustrating and mystifying because obviously you can’t make a call (e.g. to 1471) until they hang up - and since the phone is probably wedged between the sofa cushions, there’s not much chance of that.

Ten minutes later, through careful, studied listening to the occasional muffled guffaw, P manages to identify one of his mates from the North East, and calls him on the land line. Faintly, through a sofa cushion, we hear the phone ring. We are hiding in his living room and he has no idea. We hear his mum walk to the phone, and then loudly shout for F to come and answer it. P speaks:

“Hello mate, enjoying South Park are you?”

*Sound of stunned silence, which we get in stereo, on both land line and P’s mobile*

Click.