We were chatting. I heard the telltale signs of him getting bored. Him bored is dangerous. Him bored while stoned is even more so. He'd already slammed his nose in the door several times -- the first time by accident, the subsequent times to see if it would hurt any less. (It didn't.)
Him: "I wonder what would happen if I put this phone in the microwave."
Microwave door: *slams shut*
Microwave: *beep beep beep HUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM*
Me: "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, YOU IDIOT?"
Phone: *sizzle crackle*
Me: "STOP IT, YOU IDIOT!!!"
Phone: *SZZCCHHHTTT POP SCCHCHCHTTHZZT POP POP HSSSST SZZZCTH*
Me: "YOU ARE NOT ACTUALLY DOING THIS!!!!!!!!!"
Phone: *SZT ZZZT HCCCT SZZT SZZT!* *OMINOUS SILENCE*
My phone: "If you'd like to make a call..."
Weird Al: "In Allllllbuquerque!"
Me: "He didn't. He didn't. Oh, god, he did." *facepalm*
My phone: *rings*
Him: *subdued* "That's my third phone today."