It always threw Summer way off when people left voicemails, even more so when it wasn't one of her parents, and message itself didn't help matters much, but she was intrigued.

"Yeah, hi," she said, "I don't really know who this is, either, but what I do know is that I can make absolutely no promises about the effeciveness or volume of my explosions. But I can guarantee shit'll get blown up. So what are we talking here? What are we exploding, when, and where? Call me back, I guess?

"Or you could just, you know, text me like a normal person."