Back to you, Houston (2)

    Back to you, Houston.”
    . . . .
    Houston?
    Roger that, Roger, but you know what? Over.
    No, I don’t. Over.
    That coroner is a morbid methodist who mostly masturbates his meager mind over moronic mundane morphological metaphors about his own private and personal male member manipulated by meretricious muslim matrons every morning, that’s what. Over.
    Roger that, Marge. Over.
    Luis here. Over.
    Sorry, but Marge told me you were dead. Over.
    There is no Marge working here. Over.
    Cracks me up. Back to you, Luis. Over.
    Over, Roger.
    . . . .
    . . . .
    Who’s Roger?
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