Nicely trust, and served with sprouts
Not quite a microcuento but still:
"So you say you have proof that I agreed to have five dollars deducted monthly from my account for this hokey insurance deal?"
"We do. We have a recording of your voice agreeing to this, over the telephone."
"You recorded my voice on the phone?"
"Yes, we did. One of our agents phoned you and sold you our insurance package. Don't you remember?"
"In other words, you recorded my voice saying 'yes' to an unrelated question, then spliced that with a separate recording of an operative asking me if I wanted to pay five dollars." The aggrieved customer (whom we shall call Pussy Cinderwell, although her real name is not this, in fact being a fictional character she doesn't have a real name) paused for a moment, fiddling with her cellphone during the ensuing polite silence. "Well, can I hear the recording?"
"Certainly, Miss Cinderwell. Just one moment." Mr Smugglebrowe pressed a few keys. Out of his laptop speaker, the following exchange could be heard, in a tinny recording punctuated by unexplained clicks:
"So if this goes to court, you will use this recording as evidence I agreed to purchase this insurance?"
"Certainly we will."
"I see. Well, in that case you will not mind if I use a recording of my own. Here..." She tapped the screen of her cellphone, and the following was instantly heard:
"So you say you have proof that I agreed to have five dollars deducted monthly from my account for this hokey insurance deal?"
"We do. We have a recording of your voice agreeing to this, over the telephone."
"You recorded my voice on the phone?"
"Yes, we did. One of our agents phoned you and sold you our insurance package. Don't you remember?"
"In other words, you recorded my voice saying 'yes' to an unrelated question, then spliced that with a separate recording of an operative asking me if I wanted to pay five dollars." The aggrieved customer (whom we shall call Pussy Cinderwell, although her real name is not this, in fact being a fictional character she doesn't have a real name) paused for a moment, fiddling with her cellphone during the ensuing polite silence. "Well, can I hear the recording?"
"Certainly, Miss Cinderwell. Just one moment." Mr Smugglebrowe pressed a few keys. Out of his laptop speaker, the following exchange could be heard, in a tinny recording punctuated by unexplained clicks:
Voice 1: Would you like to pay five dollars a month, deducted from your credit card account indefinitely, for a totally worthless insurance package that guarantees a fully paid-for burial in the event of apocalyptic nuclear holocaust and not much else?Mr Smugglebrowe sat back and hoisted an eyebrow as Pussy fiddled again with her cellphone.
Voice 2 (Miss Cinderwell's own): Yes. Yes, of course.
"So if this goes to court, you will use this recording as evidence I agreed to purchase this insurance?"
"Certainly we will."
"I see. Well, in that case you will not mind if I use a recording of my own. Here..." She tapped the screen of her cellphone, and the following was instantly heard:
"In other words, you recorded my voice saying 'yes' to an unrelated question, then spliced that with a separate recording of an operative asking me if I wanted to pay five dollars."Moral: every time you pick up the phone, make sure you have Rimsky-Korsakov playing in the background. Though on reflection, I'm not sure that even this provides a complete guarantee against forgery when it comes to the crunch.
"Yes, we did. "
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