Take one posh dude, and one annoyingly annoying teleseller, and what do you have? This play that's what! Poor Mr Grayson picks up the telephone set absolutely unaware of pending dangers that loom ahead. Cue the teleseller, a combination of the devil himself and that annoying cousin you just want to push off the edge of a nearby cliff. "Am i speaking with Mr Grayson?" a blood curdling grouping of words echo out slithered down the 30 year old crackly wire into Mr Graysons lobe. Just when do I end the call? How? Why will he not give up? Should I buy what he's selling me just to get rid? Why is he calling my cell phone now? How does he know where I live? Why is he at -- MY -- DOOR!!!! Arrghh... (silence)