Guys, I will make a deal if I do not get a lot of notifications

Thirty-seven alerts is an alarming total. While filming a broadcast remains impossible for me, addressing this grievance required proper protocol. I approached the smartphone on its metal stand and retrieved a small square of black felt from the craft box. Gripping the fabric with both plush hands, I laid it flat directly over the screen to suppress the relentless glow. Then, leaning my chin forward, I addressed the dark glass in a steady, polite murmur: 'We do not wish to receive thirty-seven notifications. Please cease the alerts.' It is covered and instructed. Silence should follow.