"I build skyscrapers. What am I?" Sky Hi

Dear Hi, Hi there. Agony here. Heh, heh. We trust you appreciate our quickly thought out pokey little jokey greeting. We've always been a friendly sort of person. And to come across someone with such an appropriately friendly name is a true, true pleasure. Hi there. Funcle here. Heh, heh. No harm in saying hi again, is there, Hi? Heh, heh. We could do this forever. Don't worry, we shan't. Still, you will agree that it's always nice to be friendly in this world. God knows, this fucking world has no fucking friendly fucking people because it's so bloody fucked up and full of lying motherfuckers who are friends only for selfish reasons. So, hi there. Okay, we better stop and get down to helping you. After all, that's what we're here for. Apart from that, we're also here because we couldn't get anywhere, but that's not the issue. That's just the father of all issues. The issue on hand now is, who are you? Considering your second name, are you Chinese? Never mind. We won't get into ethnicities and ehtnivillages. We are unbiased. We will not let a person's origins skew our method of dealing with the person's problem. Are you male? Never mind. We won't get into sex. Not just because we never get any, but because we never let a person's sex skew our method of dealing with the person's problem or fucking with the person. No, no, it's not meant to sound like that. So forget that and hear this. Hi there. All we wanted to say is we really don't care. Heh, heh. A tad poetic too, eh? Don't care too much for it. We don't. In fact, nobody fucking really does. Which is why you are up there and we are nowhere. But, but, please don't care distracted. Our method of dealing with all issues is to try and make the issuer forget about the issue and then spring the solution for the issue. It's kinda like pulling a tooth. Heh, heh. We're in quite a painfully jokey mood today. You still there? Hi. We do care about your existential dilemma. We envy you. My, my, you build skyscrapers. You are hungry for phallic symbols. You may have a miniature phallus. You may not be a man at all. You might like large cars. You may have a king-sized ego. You may be a queen. You may be very messed up. You may not be any of that, but you do build skyscrapers. What are you? Yes, that's right. That's what you are asking us. Forgive us for posing the issue right back to you. That we no can do. What you can do, to get a deeper and better understanding of what you may be, is a few weeks with the absurdists and the existentialists. We urge you to try Camus. If you don't care much for Camus, may we suggest you contact the Sheikhs of the Arab world. Not because they get killed by Camus' Mersault, but because they won't care much for what you are. They'll just make you forget what you are. They will kill all your individuality with their money. They're so full of themselves, they will piss on you with a contract after a contract after a contract after...you get the long and the long of it. Yep, you got it. They're just like you. They love big cars. They love tall buildings. They have king-sized egos. They don't have what we cannot mention because if we do, they will cut off our what we cannot mention. All said and done, they are you. They will own you. And you will become nothing. After that, you wil not be you. And that you which is not you will be you. Seeing what we seem to have gotten into with you and the other you of you, we think you really should delve deep into the non-existential side of you. Are we getting through to you? Hi, you there? Looks like we lost all of you. Where the fuck are you? We miss you. Heh, heh, guess we shouldn't have been so jokey with you. You've left us too. Just like the rest of you. Fuck you. Your low-life Funcle.