A lady who hadn't come to the store in at least two years enters and asks to rent Identity Thief. Fernando does not have any copies in at the moment, but he gives her the song and dance he always does about holding movies and phone calls and assorted other similar trappings. She feels this is a fine idea and gives Fernando a cell number. It has an outlandish area code and the first three digits of the local number are also ones not found on area cell phones.
“That's my friend's. My phone is out of order right now,” she says.
“Oh...okay,” says Fernando, who doesn't really care one way or the other as long as her plan for him to get in touch with her works.
Time passes, a customer returns Identity Thief, and Fernando makes the phone call.
-Ring ring ring-
“Hello?” It is a man's voice.
“Hi, this is Fernando calling from the Dominion of Movies. I just wanted to let you know Identity Thief was back in--”
“Where? I didn't want anything held. Who is this?” Fernando can't place the accent—it's definitely American, but it is not any with which he is immediately familiar.
“--so....Fernando Stevens, calling from the Dominion of Movies in Salasolda. And no, no you did not. But Bhutan Lecithin came in earlier and asked me to call you on her behalf--”
“I got nothing to do with her anymore.” The man sounds perturbed, his voice a crackly growl.
“Oh. Then I am at a bit of an impasse.”
“Guess so. Have a good one.” The strange man hangs up.
Bhutan never came in to pick up Identity Thief.