MENACE BY TESSA PRESENTS
THE CASE FILES
CASE NO. 002 | STATUS: CLOSED
An ongoing investigation into the unsolicited audio documentaries invading innocent people’s inboxes.
01. The Incident Report
It begins innocently enough. Your phone buzzes, you glance at the screen, and there it is. A voice message. Not fifteen seconds. Not a quick clarification. Five minutes and forty-three seconds of somebody apparently recording the director’s commentary for a situation that could have been explained in two sentences.
You press play, expecting an emergency, a confession, or at least some information that might justify surrendering a portion of your afternoon. Instead, you’re greeted with, “Okay, so basically, what happened was…” followed by a sigh, some background traffic, and an extended discussion about what somebody said at brunch.
At no point were you consulted about your availability to attend this unauthorized podcast. There was no calendar invitation, no episode description, and absolutely no indication that your participation would require headphones and emotional preparation.
Naturally, The Case Files has opened an investigation. Because somewhere between texting and podcasting, people forgot that the recipient of a voice note is an actual person with a schedule.
02. Evidence Collected
Exhibit A: The opening monologue. The first ninety seconds contain no relevant information. Instead, our suspect explains where they’re standing, what they just ate, why they’re tired, and how they almost forgot to tell you something. At this point, the listener has learned more about the suspect’s afternoon than the actual subject of the message.
Exhibit B: The unnecessary plot developments. Just when the story appears to be reaching a conclusion, the suspect introduces six additional characters, two unrelated arguments, and a coworker named Melissa whose involvement remains legally questionable. The original purpose of the message has now disappeared somewhere between a parking ticket and somebody’s birthday dinner.
Exhibit C: The dreaded follow-up. After five minutes of uninterrupted storytelling, the suspect sends a text reading, “Did you listen yet?” Ma’am. The evidence has barely finished downloading. Some of us have jobs, responsibilities, and laundry that has been sitting in the dryer since Tuesday.
Exhibit D: The sequel nobody requested. Before the first recording has even been completed, another voice note arrives. Three minutes and twelve seconds. Apparently, the suspect forgot a detail. The prosecution would like to know why that detail could not have remained forgotten.
The evidence suggests this was never a message. It was an entire audio franchise released without the listener’s consent.
03. Suspects & Questionable Motives
Our investigation has identified several possible suspects, beginning with the Chronic Oversharer. This individual approaches every conversation as an opportunity to deliver a comprehensive oral history. No detail is too small, no tangent too irrelevant, and no story complete without a dramatic reenactment.
Next is the Multitasking Narrator, who records while driving, cooking, walking through a store, or arguing with a household appliance. Their messages include wind interference, mysterious banging noises, and frequent interruptions to yell at someone who is not part of the conversation.
Finally, we have the Audio Novelist. This suspect genuinely believes every passing thought deserves preservation in recorded form. They don’t send messages. They release chapters. And somehow, every chapter ends with, “Anyway, I’ll make this quick.”
The court acknowledges that voice notes can be convenient, personal, and genuinely useful. However, convenience for the sender does not automatically constitute convenience for the recipient.
04. Tessa’s Findings
Here’s the thing: nobody is campaigning to abolish voice messages. Sometimes hearing someone’s voice is lovely. Sometimes your hands are full, the situation is complicated, or typing would take longer than speaking. We understand the technology. We appreciate the technology. We simply question the decision to turn a casual update into an audiobook.
A little consideration goes a long way. Start with the point. Provide the necessary context. Resist the urge to introduce every supporting character in your extended social universe. And if your recording is approaching the length of a television commercial break, perhaps ask whether the other person has time for a call.
Because receiving a voice note creates an entirely different obligation than receiving a text. A text can be skimmed while standing in line. A five-minute recording requires an appropriate environment, enough attention to follow the plot, and occasionally the patience of a kindergarten teacher during indoor recess.
And before the voice-note enthusiasts begin preparing their defense, relax. Nobody is revoking your microphone privileges. We’re merely requesting that you stop treating our inboxes like an unpaid streaming service.
05. The Final Verdict
After reviewing the recordings, calculating the collective listening time, and consulting an imaginary audio engineering department, this court has reached a unanimous decision.
VERDICT: GUILTY OF AGGRAVATED RAMBLING AND UNAUTHORIZED PODCAST DISTRIBUTION.
SENTENCE: Thirty days of mandatory message editing, supervised use of the voice-recording button, and a court-ordered requirement to state the point within the first twenty seconds.
Repeat offenders must provide a written summary, timestamps, and a reasonable explanation for why the information could not have been delivered in a text.
CASE STATUS: CLOSED. ALL FUTURE RECORDINGS SUBJECT TO REVIEW.
Now it’s your turn, Group Chat. What’s the longest voice note somebody has ever sent you? And more importantly, did you actually listen to the entire thing, or did you immediately hit 2x speed and hope for the best?







