Just as my fingers finally grasp onto the phone, I feel it begin to melt. Warm liquid plastic oozing between my fingers as gravity pulls it to the tiled kitchen floor.

As the plastic droplets hit, they scatter and reform in rank and file formation, each droplet morphing into what resembles the Wal Mart smiley face. But seconds later the smiles are replaced by a sinister sneer. The mouths open and a voice much like that of Isaac Hayes reports from each of them in unison, “You are a worthless little girl Betty. We have no respect for you.”

“What do you want from me,” I shout at the faces. “And who in the hell is Betty? My name is Chuck! Just because I have a ponytail and wear makeup doesn’t give you the right to call me a girl. Leave me alone!”

As I run into the bathroom and sit down to pee, I look down at the floor to see all of the plastic faces looking up at me. One of the faces breaks rank and moves front and center. The mouth opens and all I hear is, “Now Betty,” before I pass out.