[WP] Suicide prevention hotlines are actually staffed by people trained to convince people to kill themselves in order to combat over-population. You are the top producer at the "Suicide hotline."

The phone rang in my ear and I switched to the correct window on the computer.

"Suicide Hotline, this is Maury speaking. Please note this call can be recorded for quality control purposes. How can I assist you today?" I said with my robotic voice, once again trying to sound as lifeless and mechanical, and as bored as I could.

There was silence on the other end of the line and I was about to click it off when I heard a soft small voice on the other end.

"... they ... they told me, that I co-"

"Sorry Ma'am can you please speak up?!" I said loudly into my headset mic.

"I'... I'm a guy. Can you hear me now?" the voice said on the other end.

"Yes Ma'am, I can hear you fine." I said pulling up my dog eared copy of PC Gamer magazine. Putting my feet up on the desk.

"I... I'm a man!" the voice shouted suddenly. I took note and flipped to the latest bullshit review of the Witcher 3.

"Good for you sir, how can I help you today?" I shot back, wondering why these people were always so down and why there was an endless stream of them.

"I... I've been having thoughts... bad thoughts.... I think I need help." the voice said.

"Like suicidal thoughts? This is the suicide hotline sir." I said flipping pages of my magazine.

"Yes.... yes... I mean I've been thinking about drinking myself into a coma." he said with a shallow, defeated sounding voice.

"Tsk tsk, that's too bad. It's really not a efficient way to go. Alcohol poisoning can be very easy to fuck up. You would probably fuck it up anyways and just pass out like a pussy and be sick in a hospital for a few weeks. Then you'd rack up a big bill and your parents would probably get stuck with the bill. But you don't mind fucking them over do you?"

"What?.... what should I do?" he asked quietly.

"Do you have a gun? Your a man right?" I asked looking at ads for the new GTX 980 ti and I let out a slip. "piece of shit." I said under my breath eyeing the $600 dollar price tag.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Oh nothing. Do you have a gun or not?" I shot back, pissed the free game offers for the GTX were over.

"No.. no I don't have a gun." he said flatly. "I don't have money for one either. I wouldn't know how to use it anyways even if I had one." he said his voice flat and empty.

"Why do you feel bad? You got a history of depression? Are you seeing a woman or a therapist? Are you getting laid?" I asked as the standard questionnaire form said to do.

"I ... I have a girlfriend but ... she's always busy. Shes never around. I feel terrible all the ti-"

"Are you gay? Are you on drugs and if so, what kind?" I replied not really caring what his answer was.

"No, I mean yes. I don't do drugs. She has valium in the bathroom."

"So yes your homosexual and you take valium. Got it sir." I said wondering why pc gamer mag didn't have a classified section.

"No I'm not homosexual and no I don't take valium. What kind of hotline is this?"

"This is the suicide hotline sir. We get a lot of prank calls and frankly this sounds like a prank." I said.

"It's ... it's not a prank, its a cry for help... fuck." he said exasperated.

"Please don't curse at me sir, I ask you remain cordial.... JOHN." I said with a certain level of sass in my voice. "Now you want fucking help or not?"

"Yes .. I want help, I'm sorry." he said sheepishly.

"Is that why you are calling?" I asked. "Or you just wasting my fucking time John?"

"... yes, yes I need help Maury. This isn't a prank." he said, sounding desperate.

"Ok, whats your name pal? You don't have to give me your real name."

"My name is John."

"Ok John, lets get to the facts here. How many valium pills does she have?"

"Like 4 or 5? They are kind of small in a little orange bottle." he replied.

"That won't do shit. Do you have any hard alcohol in the house? Sometimes if you mix pills and alcohol it will fuck you up."

"She has some wine spritzers in the fridge. I have a 6 pack of beer in the fridge." he said.

I sighed loudly on the headset. "Let me ask you a important medical question. I need you to be honest John."

"Ok Maury." he said back, a small whimper in his voice.

"Are you afraid of heights?" I said with a deathly serious tone of voice. "Do you own a car?" I asked again.

"Wait? ... what?" he stammered to ask.

"Are you afraid of heights? Yes or no fuckwit... jesus it's not the S.A.T.s" I spat angrily.

"yes... yes I'm afraid of heights." he said. "What was the other question."

"Do you drive a car? Or do you take the train?" I asked wondering why there was a lack of boobs in my copy of pc gamer magazine.

"No, I don't have a car." he said flatly. "I take the train, sometimes a cab when I can afford it."

"Fuckwit." I said under my breath. "Ok lets re-cap real quick here John. You feel bad, you don't own a gun, you can't afford a gun. You don't have drugs, You are afraid of heights and you don't own a car. Is that about right?"

"Yes, that's right." he said.

"Well no wonder your so fucked up. Probably too pussy to cut yourself huh?"

"What was that?" he asked with a confused tone.

I knew the gutless type when I heard them. "You probably don't have the balls to cut your wrists right?"

"....y...yes." was all he replied.

"How about walking in front of a bus or truck? Preferably fast moving. Faster the better. A train would work too. Have you ever considered 'falling' off the station platform?"

"No. I never thought of that before..." he said with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Well sounds like we have a initial solution then. Would you consider doing one or both of those things to escape your emotional pain?" I asked.

"......possibly." he said as if he were contemplating.

"Well my supervisor is telling me my call time is up. I'm glad we could come to some sort of resolution. Can you take a brief survey on my services today? The 1000th caller will received a discount coupon from starbucks. Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery."

"Ummmm... yes I can take the survey I guess.." he said flatly.

"Ok, one a scale of 1 to 10, one being not good and 10 being very good, and 5 being average, how would you rate my service on this particular call?"

"Uhhhh 4?"

"What the fuck John?! I fucking help you and you give me a fucking four?"

"Well you sounded like you were in a hurry? This whole thing felt rushed!" he retorted quickly.

"Fuck you John, I'm giving myself a fucking 10 for putting up with you. Next question. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being unsatisfactory and 10 being very satisfied, how would your rate my speediness today during our call?"

"Ummmm, 9?" he said with a certain hesitation.

"A lie is just as good as the truth, good boy. Ok last question John. On a scale of 1 being No and 10 being yes, how likely would you be to refer a friend or family member to the suicide hotline?"

"Ummmm 3?"

"What the living fuck John? You don't think I helped you?!" I screamed into the phone.

"No, I don't want anyone feeling worse than they are!" he replied with a sudden ferocity.

"Well John I'm putting your number on our blocked list. Don't fucking call back here understand? No matter how bad you feel!" I clacked at the keyboard and hit the enter key. "There! Done! Don't you call back you fucking prank caller!"

I could hear John quietly crying on the other end of the phone line.

"We thank you for calling the suicide hotline John. Have I answered your questions today?"

/r/WritingPrompts Thread