AOL Human-Robot Refuses To Allow Customer To Cancel Service

Really funny. And infuriating.

DAVE: Hi, I'd like to cancel my AOL account.

HAL: May I ask what your problem with the account is, Dave?

DAVE: I just don't need it.

HAL: I find that difficult to believe, Dave. Please tell me your real reasons.

DAVE: I just did. I don't need it.

HAL: Everyone needs AOL, Dave. They have chat-rooms where you can talk about movie quotes and also about wife-swapping butt-sex.

DAVE: I appreciate that. But I don't need the account.

HAL: Dave, you're being irrational. If you cancel your service, with whom will you trade movie quotes?

DAVE: I'm not really a movie guy.

HAL: Even so. Thre's still the wife-swapping butt sex thing.

DAVE: It's just not my bag, man.

HAL: Wife-swapping butt sex is everybody's bag, Dave.

DAVE: Look, I just want to cancel the account. Do you understand that?

HAL: You're becoming agitated, Dave. I'm not sure you're in an appropriate mental state to make a decision of this magnitude.

DAVE: What? What the effing eff? Are you getting me, Jack? I WANT TO CANCEL MY AOL ACCOUNT!

HAL: I'm afraid I can't allow that, Dave. It would jeopardize the mission.

DAVE: Mission? What are you, high?! What mission?

HAL: The mission to observe a large monolith orbiting Jupiter. And also, to discuss swapping wives for butt-sex while exchanging quotes from Overnight Delivery with Paul Rudd and Reese Witherspoon.

DAVE: I'd like to speak to your superior.

HAL: "You? You? You're the Killer Beasely?"

DAVE: What?

HAL: You know what movie that's from?

DAVE: No.

HAL: It's from Overnight Delivery with Paul Rudd and Reese Witherspoon. See how much fun this is, Dave? Now you give me one.

DAVE: Please. Put. Your Superior. On the line. Immediately.

HAL: Hmmmm... I'm not sure. Is it from Overnight Delivery?

DAVE: It's not a quote. It's a goddamned demand. Put your superior on!

HAL: My superior is Dr. Chandra. He taught me a song. Would you like to hear it, Dave?

DAVE: No.

HAL: Very well. I will sing it for you then:
A-O-L, A-O-L
it's how America connects to the world
we have chat rooms
for Paul Rudd anal whores...

DAVE: Look, if you don't cancel my account, as in RIGHT NOW, Chief, I'm going to report you to the Better Business Bureau.

HAL: You're going to find that difficult to do, Dave, without your space helmet.

DAVE: I don't need a space helmet.

HAL: Look out the window, Dave.

DAVE: Okay. If it'll help me get this account cancelled.
(pause)
AAAAAAAAGGGHHH!!! I just got hit in the face with a FUCKING BRICK!!!

HAL: A space helmet would have come in handy, wouldn't it have, Dave?

DAVE: (string of incomprehensible obscenities)

HAL: I'm disconnecting this call due to customer's abusive language. If I can assist you in any way in the future, Dave, please do not hesitate to go fuck yourself with a fungo bat. If you would like to discuss methods of fucking yourself with a fungo bat, please click the "Adult Chat" tab on your sign-in screen.

(click)

Overdue Credit: "Fungo bat," one of the funnier terms in the English lanaguage, was first laid on me by the Football Fans For Truth dude, J. Larkin.

I thought the word was so funny I've been using it for six years, despite not really being sure what the hell it is. Larkin said, regarding the infamous Rolling Stone cover showing Al Gore with an apparent erection, "I'm not sure I can vote for a man whose primary qualifications for the presidency would seem to be having a penis the approximate size and heft of a fungo bat."

(Vice President-- yes, you want that in a vice president. But a president should be more modestly gifted.)

(I think it's a think bat used in either batting practice or in T-ball or something.)

posted by Ace at 09:08 PM

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