Season 3 chapter 3
The 3:00 AM Logic
Kniya stared at Malesh across the completely trashed executive office, his caffeine-addled brain trying to process the absolute absurdity of the suggestion.
"You want to prank call the President of my company," Kniya repeated, his eye twitching slightly. "At three in the morning. Malesh, I am unhinged, but you are actually a sociopath. He is going to murder us."
"It is a highly practical exercise in corporate stress-testing," Malesh defended flatly, leaning back on the sofa. "We need to know how Salesh handles sudden, catastrophic news outside of standard business hours. Consider it a mandatory audit of his psychological durability."
"You just want to wake him up because you're bored!" Kniya yelled, throwing his hands in the air.
"Yes," Malesh admitted without a single ounce of shame. "And you are also bored. Your leg has been bouncing for forty-five minutes straight. If you do not channel this caffeine into something destructive, you are going to shoot another television."
Kniya looked at the smoking crater in the wall where the TV used to be. He looked back at Malesh. A slow, deeply wicked grin spread across his face.
"Okay. Fine," Kniya agreed, aggressively rubbing his hands together. "But we have to use the untraceable burner phone from the safe. And we need a fake story. Something absolutely devastating."
"We will tell him his parents are dead," Malesh stated completely deadpan.
Kniya paused, his grin faltering for a split second. "Ohh God !!, Malesh. That is dark even for us."
"It is the most efficient way to trigger an immediate emotional response," Malesh reasoned, standing up to grab the encrypted burner phone from Kniya's desk. "I will dial. You do the talking. Try to sound like a grieving peasant from his hometown."
The Accent Rehearsal
Malesh picked up the encrypted burner phone from the mahogany desk, his thumb hovering over the dial pad.
"Wait, pause," Kniya said, holding up a hand. "If I am going to sell this prank, I need to flawlessly perfect the accent. Let me do a quick rehearsal. Listen to this."
Kniya cleared his throat aggressively, contorting his face and dropping his voice into a thick, slurred, highly exaggerated drawl.
"Ah, hello there, sir!" Kniya mocked, sounding absolutely ridiculous. "I am calling from the glorious mud-huts of Mandoria! We just got the electricity working for five whole minutes!"
Malesh stared at him, completely unamused.
"That is a terrible strategy," Malesh stated flatly. "First of all, Salesh's parents are not from Mandoria. Second of all, Mandorians do not have telephones. They communicate by banging rocks together and yelling across the border."
Kniya burst out laughing, slamming his hand on the desk. "True! Fucking poors! Have you seen their national export? It is literally just dirt and inferior wheat! I bet a Mandorian's brain physically explodes if they ever see a flushable toilet!"
"Statistically, yes," Malesh agreed, his deadpan voice making the brutal xenophobia sound like a peer-reviewed scientific fact. "Their average national intelligence is precisely equivalent to one of my defective oil drills. If you use a Mandorian accent, Salesh will instantly know it is a prank because a Mandorian cannot count past the number four, let alone figure out how to dial a highly secure ten-digit federal phone number."
"Ah, fuck, you are right," Kniya cackled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Okay, what about an Arvonian accent? I can sound like one of those snobby, tea-drinking parasites."
"Too pretentious," Malesh rejected. "Just speak like a generic, uneducated peasant from the outer districts of DI. The kind of unwashed idiot who thinks a million-credit fart cylinder is a reasonable investment. Just be naturally stupid. It suits your vocal range."
"Fuck you," Kniya smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Alright. I'm ready. Dial the number."
The Product Expiration
Malesh punched in Salesh's private, highly secure home number and put the phone on speaker, setting it down on the mahogany desk. Kniya leaned in close, clearing his throat and trying to force his voice into a thick, respectful accent.
The phone rang three times.
"...Hello?" a groggy, deeply exhausted voice answered. Salesh was clearly half-asleep. "Who the fuck is this? Do you know what time it is?"
"Ah, hello, sir," Kniya said, trying his absolute hardest not to laugh. "Am I speaking to Mr. Salesh?"
"Yeah. Who is this?" Salesh grumbled, the sound of bedsheets rustling in the background.
"Sir, I am calling from the local hospital in Clovaska !!," Kniya said, making his voice shake with fake tragedy. "I am very sorry to inform you... but your parents are no more. They have unfortunately expired as products."
Beside him, Malesh had to physically bite the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing at Kniya's corporate brain-rot slipping into the prank. Expired as products.
On the other end of the line, the grogginess instantly vanished.
"What the fuck?!" Salesh screamed, scrambling out of bed. "What the fuck do you mean 'expired as products'?! Who the fuck is this?! What happened to them?! How did they both die at the exact same time?! They are not that old! How the fuck did this happen?!"
"Sir, please calm down," Kniya replied, fighting back a massive smirk. "It is a really sad thing to know. We are very sorry. But yeah, we cannot do anything about this shit, you know? Sometimes inventory just reaches the end of its lifecycle."
"Inventory?!" Salesh roared, absolutely losing his mind. "What the fuck are you really talking about?! You are talking like you give no fucking importance to a human life! My parents just died, you psychopath! Tell me exactly who you are, you fucking idiot! How can you talk like that about my parents?!"
Malesh leaned over the phone. "Sir, we want to tell you that actually, it was a very miserable accident. It involved a high-speed collision and a lot of mud. We cannot tell you more about this shit due to hospital liability policies."
"You pieces of shit!" Salesh yelled, his voice cracking with pure, furious grief. "Okay! If you are not going to tell me the truth, I am going to hang up right fucking now and call my parents' home line! I will confirm this thing by myself, and then I am going to track your number and have you both completely dismantled!"
"No, no, no! Stop, stop, stop!" Kniya yelled, instantly breaking character as panic set in. "Salesh, wait! Don't call them! We were just joking!"
"...What?" Salesh breathed into the phone, completely frozen.
"We were just joking!" Kniya cackled, finally letting loose the laughter he had been holding in. "It's me! Kniya! And Malesh is right here! Your parents are fine, bro!"
The Midnight Argument
For ten solid seconds, the only sound coming through the speakerphone was Salesh's heavy, murderous breathing.
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?!" Salesh finally exploded, his voice so loud it rattled the phone speaker. "What the fuck do you have to say for yourselves?! What the fuck are you doing right now?! You guys literally called me at three in the morning to tell me my parents were dead?! FUCK YOU! Fuck both of you! What the fuck!"
"Hey, calm down!" Kniya laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "I and Malesh were just at the office at this hour, and we were just incredibly bored. So we thought we should call you! It was entirely Malesh's idea, not mine!"
"It was a joint venture," Malesh corrected smoothly, refusing to take all the blame. "You executed the dialogue."
"If it was Malesh's idea," Salesh seethed, his voice dripping with absolute hatred, "Kniya, are you not smart enough to know what the fucking time it is?! Do you not know the sleep cycle of a normal human being, you fucking idiots?!"
"We were just testing the operational readiness of the company!" Kniya defended aggressively. "What were you even doing at this time?!"
"Actually, I was sleeping like a normal fucking human being! Not like you two sociopaths!" Salesh yelled. "I was sleeping peacefully beside my girlfriend! We had a massive breakup last week, but it was finally fixed, and we were actually having a peaceful night! But because of you two parasites, I had to jump out of bed and attend this fucking call! You completely destroyed my peaceful sleep time!"
Kniya leaned back in his chair, a mocking, highly obnoxious smirk crossing his face.
"Ohhh," Kniya cooed in a high-pitched, incredibly annoying voice. "Oh, you were sleeping with the girlfriend. Oh, okay. Wow. Look at Salesh, guys."
"You have no right to say that to me, Kniya!" Salesh snapped. "I have a life outside of the steel company!"
"Okay, well let me tell you one thing," Kniya warned, his voice suddenly dropping into his strict CEO tone. "That kind of behavior is really not allowed in the office. Please, do all of those intimate things at home. It is strictly not allowed at the office. I have strict HR rules over here regarding your girlfriend."
"I am at my fucking house!" Salesh screamed, completely frustrated. "Please, for God's fucking sake, do not do this to me right now! Seriously, you are literally frustrating me out! What the fuck has happened to you two at this time of the hour?!"
Malesh leaned closer to the speakerphone, adjusting his tie.
"Salesh," Malesh stated bluntly. "You are screaming at a very high pitch. You are acting like you are sleeping with a guy."
"I am not gay, you fucking idiot!" Salesh roared, completely losing his mind at Malesh's deadpan insult. "Just stop the thing! Please! Please stop talking to me!"
"Okay, okay," Kniya laughed, deciding to finally end the absolute torture. "Go back to sleep. But let me tell you one thing before I hang up. The Fart Gang is really spreading across the state of KDC. They just hit Malesh's oil refinery. Be prepared for that. Goodnight."
"Fuck you! Let me sleep!" Salesh screamed.
CLICK.
Salesh violently hung up the phone. Kniya and Malesh sat in the trashed office, the absolute silence returning. They looked at each other, fully satisfied with the chaos they had just caused, and went right back to doing absolutely nothing.