Selling (plural noun) over the phone, the telemarketer reads from an assigned (adjective) script, so whether it’s you, the (noun) filling in this mad lib, or his bosses at (company name) LLC, he’s used to people (verb–ing) for him. It’s fine. Not (verb–ing) helps him clock in and clock out at a job he (feeling), helps him survive each (adjective) day.
On Friday, he cashes his (adjective) paycheck and (verb) to a bar by the beach. After drinking a few (beer brand), he (verb) down to the water, where he (verb) his bare feet in the sand. Next to him, a/an (adjective) seashell. The telemarketer holds the seashell to his ear and hears your (adjective) voice, transporting you to the shore. “How was your day?” you ask, not knowing what else to say. “It was alright,” he replies, as if you didn’t have him (verb–ing) at the (adjective) (place) only a few hours earlier.
Waves lick your feet as you two watch the water in silence. Here with him now, you no longer know what the telemarketer will do next or how he’ll do it. You can no longer fill in the gaps, which frightens him. He looks at you for the right answer, but all you can do is shrug and offer to stick around as the sun dips below the horizon.