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Voicemail #1: __i, Isabel Culpeper. I am lying in my bed, looking at the ceiling. I am mostly naked. I am thinking of _ your mother. Call me.__oicemail #2: The first minute and thirty seconds of ____e Gotta Get a Message to You_ by the Bee Gees. Voicemail #3: ____ bored. I need to be entertained. Sam is moping. I may kill him with his own guitar. It would give me something to do and also make him say something. Two birds with one stone! I find all these old expressions unnecessarily violent. Like, ring around the rosy. That__ about the plague, did you know? Of course you did. The plague is, like, your older cousin. Hey, does Sam talk to you? He says jack shit to me. God, I__ bored. Call me.__oicemail #4: __otel California_ by the Eagles, in its entirety, with every instance of the word California replaced with Minnesota. Voicemail #5: __i, this is Cole St. Clair. Want to know two true things? One, you__e never picking up this phone. Two, I__ never going to stop leaving long messages. It__ like therapy. Gotta talk to someone. Hey, you know what I figured out today? Victor__ dead. I figured it out yesterday, too. Every day I figure it out again. I don__ know what I__ doing here. I feel like there__ no one I can ___oicemail #6: __o, yeah, I__ sorry. That last message went a little pear-shaped. You like that expression? Sam said it the other day. Hey, try this theory on for size: I think he__ a dead British housewife reincarnated into a Beatle__ body. You know, I used to know this band that put on fake British accents for their shows. Boy, did they suck, aside from being assholes. I can__ remember their name now. I__ either getting senile or I__e done enough to my brain that stuff__ falling out. Not so fair of me to make this one-sided, is it? I__ always talking about myself in these things. So, how are you, Isabel Rosemary Culpeper? Smile lately? Hot Toddies. That was the name of the band. The Hot Toddies.__oicemail #20: __ wish you__ answer.