The Sales Pitch

Ding Dong.
Mr. Conehead:  "Bark, bark, who dat?  Bark."
Me:  "Who is it?"
Girl:  "A neighbor."
Mr. Conehead:  "Bark, bark, who who who dat?  Barky bark."
Me:  Hush.
Open door.  See neighbor girl with sad little basket full of forms.
Me:  "Hi."
Mr. Conehead:  "Bark?  Bark?  Treat or what?"
Girl:  "Hi, I live across the street."
Me:  "Hi, how are you?"
Mr. Conehead:  "Bark?  Where we at with that treat?"
Girl:  "I'm raising money for my school."
Me:  "Oh, uh huh."
Mr. Conehead:  "Not interested.  Bark bark."
Girl:  "Would you like to buy something?"
Me:   "Such as?"
Mr. Conehead:  "I'm bored.  I'm going back inside to lick myself. Bark."
Me:  "Don't you lick yourself."
Girl:  "What?"
Me:  "Sorry, I was talking to my dog."
Mr. Conehead:  "I wasn't listening.  Woof."
Girl:  "A magazine subscription..."
Mr. Conehead:  "This sales pitch gets an F.  Bark bark."
Me:  "Go to your room."
Mr. Conehead:  "Bark me."
Girl:  "Or a bag."
Mr. Conehead:  "A bag?  A doggy bag?  Woof woof woof!"
Me:  "No, thanks."
Girl:  Cold, unfriendly stare.
Me:  "Come back when you're selling chocolate."
Mr. Conehead:  "Come back when you're packing a doggy treat."
Girl:  "Okay."
Me:  "Bye."
Close door.  Eye Mr. Conehead.
Me:  "No treat for you, mister."
Mr. Conehead:  "Woof-ever."