Telemarketer: "Yes, I'm looking for a Mr. [redacted]."
Me: "This be he. Speak."
Telemarketer: "Hello Mr. [redacted]. My name is Richard and I'm calling on behalf of Audible Locusts. How are you you doing today, sir?"
Me: "Just smithing a suit of Daedric armor for ComicCon. How be you, Richard?"
Telemarketer: "Well...that's...neat! I was just calling because we see that you've been pre-approved for a special VIP program that can save you hundreds of dollars on things you buy for the home every day! Isn't that great?"
Me: "I see. What sort of wares does your haberdashery carry? Weapons? Salted meats? The makings for elixirs, perhaps?"
Telemarketer: "...Um...no. You'll have the opportunity to buy things like groceries, cleaning products, home appliances and so much more!"
Me: "Ebony ingots?"
Telemarketer: "I'm sorry?"
Me: "Might you trade in ebony ingots? If not, I'd be willing to purchase ebony ore from your trading post and smelt it myself. Either that or barter with cabbages and cheese wheels in my inventory."
Telemarketer: "I'm sorry, Mr. [redacted]. I don't understand."
Me: "Look Richard, I'm obsessed with Skyrim. I'm not going to lie. The more you get on my level and talk like we're in Skyrim, the better chance you're going to have at getting a sale out of me."
Telemarketer: "You mean the video game?"
Me: "IT'S NOT JUST A GAME, RICHARD!!!"
Me: "Let's try this again, OK?"
Me: *ahem* "Now what wares would you sell your Thane?"
Telemarketer: "Can I put you on hold for just one minute, sir?"
Me: "As you wish, shop keep."
*two minutes of the muzak version of Hall and Oates's "Method of Modern Love*
Telemarketer: "Sorry about the hold, Mr. [name redacted]."
Me: "Worry not, citizen of Whiterun. I rested for eight hours, but was not able to reap the sleep bonus due to my Werewolf blood."
Telemarketer: "Like we were talking about earlier, we have lots of things you normally buy for the home, but for pennies on the dollar! Perfect for a...'Doverkeen'!"
Me: "It's 'Dovahkiin'."
Telemarketer: "Yes...Doverkeek. You can also purchase many food items to eat while you're playing Skyrim, like a wide assortment of chips and sodas."
Me: "You assume I'm a stout fellow who gorges on unsavories?! I'll have you know I've walked the length of Tamriel countless times! What else have you for sale or trade?"
Telemarketer: "I'm glad you asked, Than."
Me: "It's 'Thane'."
Me: "Are you secretly conversing with someone? I use to be a telemarketer like you...but then I took an arrow to the stupid."
Telemarketer: "What's that? No, sir. Not at all."
Me: "ARE YOU BEING COACHED IN WHAT TO SAY TO THE DRAGONBORN?!?"
Telemarketer: "No! I'm not!"
Me: "Do not attempt to converse with me again until you have leveled up in speechcraft significantly, lest you find yourself on the wrong end of my Wabbajack."