You clear your throat, and attempt to remain calm.
"I'm sorry for the confusion, Mrs. Smash. All I'm trying to do is learn to cook a chicken like a man. That's all I want. Do you have any advice for me?"
"Oh, you poor lost soul," she says, now in a normal tone. "You must have missed part of the program."
You humor her. Maybe she'll talk you through cooking the chicken after all.
"Have you got your oven preheated? You'll want to do that first."
You admit that you haven't, and she agrees to wait while you get that out of the way. When you come back on the line, you hear an argument in the background. Although Mrs. Smash's hand is covering the mouthpiece, you recognize the voice of her opponent. Corey Smash himself!
"Mama, what are you doin' on the phone? You know the doctors told you to cut down on stressful phone calls this late at night!"
"But Corey-kins, it's one of your fans. He...he wants to know how to cook a chicken. You remember that show you filled in last year."
"What? Hang up the phone, Mama. Hang it up!"
The line goes dead.