"Just callin' to check in. Hope your flight was safe. Ah, you know, 'bout what I said, just. Forget it, all right? I was drunk. I think. Anyway, take care, Bill."

"Maybe the last one didn't go through. I dunno. Billy, how are you? Elijah said you called his New York place on Sunday. Did you get the directions to the cabin?"

"Yeah, I figured. Uhhh. Right. I'm getting too used to talking to your machine, man, honestly. I don't think I'd know what to do if you actually picked up. Fucking pick up, Billy, please."

A week after this, Dom gets a long message on his machine in a distinct female Scottish drawl:

"Dominic. Billy doesn't know how to say it himself but he really can't take your calls anymore. We're getting married next summer, and Billy can't cut himself in two between us. You're too much for him. He's made his choice. I'm sorry, but..."

Dom deletes the message before another word can play.