Heres a scene...

Claire is staying at her Mum's house, looking after it while her mum is away. Its Monday night, and Claire has finished work, come home and is relaxing in front of the telly. Its half past midnight, and then, the phone rings. Claire's heart stops, and her blood runs cold. Given that the phone only rings in the middle of the night when extremely bad news is coming, Claire begins to anticipate who is on the other end. Could is be her sister, whose baby had a high temperature that day? Claire remembers back a few years to when the baby's older brother was in hospital with meningitis, and all were convinced that he was not going to make it. Or, she thinks, it could be her Dad, recalling a couple of years back when a good friend of her Dad's died very suddenly of a heart attack. That afternoon, Claire had dropped her mother off at the airport, to catch a flight to Sydney that was connecting to Perth later that day. It could be the airline, saying that the plane had gone missing over the desert.
Because people don't call at half past midnight unless its an extreme emergency. Its just not done. So, imagining all sorts of horrors, Claire answers the phone. And guess what. Its not a fucking emergency at all. Its someone who shares Claire's house, who wants to discuss a fucking bill or something. Not even remotely an emergency, no matter how you look at it.

The surprising thing is, the flatmate was actually genuinely surprised when Claire went nuts at her.
Go figure.