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*sounds absolutely delighted, his enthusiasm bubbling over and through the crackling signal* If it isn't motherfuckin' Dee. I'm fuckin' fabulous, now that I've heard your voice again. How the hell've you been, gal pal?
*your happiness is contagious and it causes her to laugh happily and lay on her stomach on her bed; from the looks of the background there's more than one person living in her room now* I've been fan-fucking-tastic! Everything has been great since we last talked; I think it was...shit, it was your birthday! That was almost two months ago...my God! Too long, way too long. What have you been up to, hmm?
*his screen is blank, but he can see through to you just fine; laughs a little when you shift positions* First-rate, girlie, first-fuckin'-rate. *pauses* Funk me—it was that long? Hell on a . . . when you're a busy fucker—that time just disappears, don't it? I—*lets the word dissipate, as if realizing something*—this thing isn't even . . . wait a mo—*there are several close thumping noises, as if he's thwacking whatever device he holds with his open palm*
*she rests her head on her free hand, grinning warmly* That's wonderful! I think the last thing I heard from you was something about pillows...? Yeah, pillows! But I wasn't able to talk at the time, so it really was your birthday! Damn...so much has happened and--hmm? *she quiets for a moment as you thump on the transmitter* Uuuum, Gerard? Is something wrong with your device there? And by device I mean your transmitter.
*pauses a moment, then laughs, fully and richly* I—I fuckin' remember that. Pillow outage, 'cause the bro had company and he wa—*stops right there*—anyway. *there is a somewhat longer pause, as if he's uncomfortable being reminded that he's getting older, yet not older* Yeeahh, I guess funkin' so. *the corners of his mouth tip upward for a moment in a slight smile you can't see; then he's so absorbed in smacking his transceiver he doesn't even notice when the screen flickers on; the first image you receive of him is rather intimidating, for his brow is furrowed in that theatrical way only he can pull off, and he's frowning as if he's just eaten something rather unsavory* I don't—*thump*—know, 'cause—*thump*—this damn thing ain't—*thump*