FFFF Surveillance Team Snags Another Ackerman Call

Well they have done it again. Or at least they told us they did. Our crack Undercover Surveillance Unit has sent in a transcript of another intercepted Dick Ackerman phone conversation, this time with an unidentified male communicant. We are not sure exacly what to make of this transcript and we are cognizant that the surveillance team had just been issued its monthy medicinal marijuana supply. So we simply pass the transcript along to the Friends, who would be damn fools to believe it.

(Phone ringing)

Unidentified Male Communicant: Yes, hello.

Dick Ackerman: Tomski, Dick Ackerman here. (two quick grunts followed by a snort)

UMC: The Dickster! (unintelligible guttural sound)

DA: Booga, Booga!

UMC: Alpha Kappa

DA: Alpha Kappa Chi!

UMC: Grab some titties,

DA: Shoot some beaver,

UMC: I Eta Pi! (three or four grunts in quick succession) Heh. Heh heh.

DA: (Several snorting sounds and a distinct throat clearing) Heh heh heh.

UMC: What’s up Dickie-boy?

DA: (a grunt) Got some trouble up north with a punk reporter and a coupla pissant bloggers. Got a girl in trouble.

UMC: The Dickster! Oh yeah! Still got it! (two deep grunts). Heh heh.

DA: Not like that you idiot. More Duvall shit. God I wished I’d never talked that asshole into running. (a low, long rumbling sound)

Unidentified Female Voice In Background: She’s works so hard!

UMC: Uhhhmm…what do you want me to do?

DA: A coupla letters, heh heh. Pin some ears back, heh, heh, heh. The usual.

UMC: (a long rumbling throaty noise). Ahhh. Look Dickie-boy the suits back east are getting a little hung up on all this pro bono stuff. So…

DA: (a quick snarl) No, you look Tomski. We go back a long way. Remember the trouble with that senorita in Vallejo? And that little side deal during the Swindell merger? And the steam room. Remember the steam room, Tomski?

UMC: That was thirty-five years ago!

DA: Thirty-seven. But what’s a coupla years between old friends?

UMC: Ughhh.Ughhhh. Well…ughhh…

DA: Good. So we can count you in. Knew we could. I’ll fax over the dope. Get on it! (a grunt)

UMC: Yeah, well okay. See what we can do.

UFVIB: Dick, that white van’s back behind croquet court wall!

DA: (a string of nasal ejaculations followed by a quick barking sound) Okay, Tomski, gotta go. See you at the club on Friday!

UMC: (a grunting sound) Yeah. Okay. You owe me a drink!

(at this point the communication was ended)