We're not getting anwhere with this conversation!

     "Say, listen!" said Sigsbee H. Waddington.
     "Proceed," said Hamilton Beamish.
     "Say, listen!'
     "I am all attention."
     "Say, listen!" said Mr. Waddington.
     Hamilton Beamish glanced at his watch impatiently. Even at its normal level of imbecility, the conversation of Sigsbee H. Waddington was apt to jar upon his critical mind, and now, it seemed to him, the other was plumbing depths which even he had never reached before.
     "I can give you seven minutes," he said. "At the end of the period of time I must leave you. I am speaking at a luncheon of the Young Women Writers of America. You came here, I gather, to make a communication to me. Make it."
     "Say, listen!" said Sigsbee H. Waddington.
     Hamilton Beamish compressed his lips sternly. He had heard parrots with a more intelligent flow of conversation.

(from The Small Bachelor, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)