The story: Several 500 word one-shots about Naruto characters getting on the telemarketer's 'do not call' list. Been tested!

I don't own Naruto. Own the telemarketer though. Poor guy.

Haruno Sakura.

Sakura decided she hated phones.

Really she did.

So when one woke her up after a particularly long and grueling mission, she was tempted just to smash it and go back to sleep. 'Yes…hit the damn thing! Throw the chunks out the window and let me sleep god damn it!' Inner Sakura screamed. Five hours of sleep might have suited her fine any other day, but this was the day after the most physically exhausting mission of her five-year shinobi career. Despite her anger and resentment towards the telephone in question, and her insane tiredness, Sakura rolled out of bed anyway and stumbled forward to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" she mumbled into the receiver. Eyes opening a little wider, she added, "Sakura speaking." It was a courtesy. Anyone who knew her would either have a good reason to call or start 'splaining real fast.

"Hello Mrs. Uzumaki," greeted a chirpy male voice from the other end of the line. Sakura growled rabidly at the name. She was not Mrs. Uzumaki, nor would she ever be Mrs. Uzumaki. She was Miss Haruno who happened to share a two-bedroom one bath apartment with Naruto Uzumaki. That didn't make them married. Sakura shivered at the very though. 'Must. Not. Kill. Telemarketer. Not. Their. Fault.'

"Yesh?" she grumbled. "Whazzhawant?"

"Well Mrs. Uzumaki," the voice continued. Sakura's eye twitched. "We know you," no you don't, "as a proud member," of what? The 'we hate telemarketer club?' damn straight, "of Konoha's greatest population, shinobi, and we were wonder if we could get your support," whatever it is, no, "for the Konohagakure Rotary Club!"

"I see." Sakura's eye twitched again. By now her mind had cleared and she was capable of speaking in complete sentences. Civility, on the other hand, was a totally different matter. "Are you aware that it's eight o'clock in the morning?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. U--"

"Are you aware I was on a mission until three in the morning?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. U--"

"Are you are aware that if you call me Mrs. Uzumaki one more time, I will castrate you and feed your innards to Izumo's giant rat?! For goddssake, my name is Sakura Haruno! Miss Sakura Haruno! I am not, or will I ever be, Mrs. Uzumaki!"

"That's not what our records say."

"Your records are wrong."

"Oh, alright, Mrs.--"

Poor telemarketer. Never had a chance to finish his sentence. The phone was smashed into the receiver so forcefully that on the other end of the line, the poor telemarketer felt the full repercussions. Bruised sternum, torn gastrocnemius, fractured arm and a broken finger.

"I'm sorry," Sakura said as she brushed off her nightgown and started back for her warm, comfy bed, "I don't give money over the phone."

Haruno Sakura: DO NOT CALL!!!