Hi Mom, it’s me. I didn’t want you to stay up all night worrying about me, so I thought I’d call and let you know that I’m probably dead or kidnapped or lying in a ditch somewhere.

I know you appreciate it when I check in with you after a night out with the guys, so I just wanted to make sure you weren’t wondering about what might have happened to me. You know, neurotic mom stuff.

Well let me put your anxiety to rest, because I almost certainly didn’t make it home safe and am probably being robbed at gunpoint at this very moment or getting jumped by a gang or being tortured in a garage by a man who wants to sell my organs on the black market.

Seriously, Mom, you don’t need to wait up for me. I know you have work in the morning.

And besides, I’m fine, albeit probably knocked unconscious and packed into a crate aboard a ship that will take me to Thailand or Singapore where I will be sold into a bizarre and clandestine form of sexual slavery that is so sinister the Western world does not even know it exists. In this strange and dark underworld I will be forced to perform and receive brutal acts of physical abuse in order to satisfy the sexual fantasies of rich businessmen from foreign lands who, for a certain price, can inject acid into my brain with hypodermic needles and use medieval surgical tools to excise pieces of my body in a sadistic re-creation of the popular board game, Operation.

Anyways, hope this relieved some late-night motherly anxiety. Oh, and I won’t call you tomorrow because I’m definitely a dead person now.

Night, Mom!

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