I’ve never been wrong in my entire life. Never. My brain is brimming with knowledge, and a falsehood has never escaped my lips. One day I will exist within time and space as an all-knowing, formless entity. I am literally incapable of being wrong.
You see, that is why I couldn’t have possibly given you a fake number.
You claim that any number beginning with “555” is a fake number. You cite films and movies where these numbers are used. Have you ever tried calling those numbers? Did it ever occur to you to try? Perhaps your brain is simply not as evolved as mine.
You tried to call me and the other end answered with, “I’m sorry. The number you are trying to reach is not in service.” Have you ever considered that maybe your phone doesn’t work? My phone, which I constructed on the 5th plane with just the sheer power of my galaxy brain, is not capable of mistakes or glitches: just like me.
You claim that when you called it right next to me so I could save your number, you saw that my phone received no notifications. You fool, you utter fool. My phone warps the very fabric of spacetime in order to send the notifications directly to my galaxy brain. I’m wired in.
You ask for evidence that I have never been wrong, which I keep on me at all times: IQ test results, a note from my mom, and a headshot of me holding an encyclopedia. I believe that is sufficient enough.
I have never been wrong nor will I ever. Regardless of the facts presented, you still ask, “So are you free on Friday?” Incorrect, I am not. You have not proven yourself worthy or capable of higher thought, and I leave by throwing a flash bomb on the ground. You will never see me again.