So my parents came over

I got around to tell them about my little... deed. My mother spent the entire day talking about her son, the criminal. "When the ladies down in the Womens Wellfare Society talks about their children, what am I supposed to say? So both your son and daughter are Doctors, Mrs. Aquino? What about your son, Mrs. Smart? A lawyer, really. Mine, oh, he is a criminal who gads about the house all day. Can my son come to the mother-son race? No, he is a vicious felon, who has been locked up for life. NOT THAT HE WOULD HAVE COME ANYWAY!", "Mother, I still have two sisters, don't I? Bring them to the WWS". "Well, we hardly see Amelia, anymore, out partying all night with that homosexual and those weird girls. And Malou, she still lives at home with us, and spends the day eating our food and watching our TV. But at least she is not a disgusting criminal, much less one who commits crimes as an excuse to be lazy. Next you will be smoking pot". "No, I quit that last year. Too hard to find an honest dealer, these days". "Don't say that. No son of mine has ever smoked pot. Say something, Harold!". "Yes, boy, how are you ever going to get a girlfriend, or a squeeze?". "A what? Nevermind. Mother, father..." "Dammit, boy, call us mom and dad". "Mom and dad, it happened, I can chose this or jail". "If you were in a cell with a big guy named Bubba, at least I would be sure that you were getting something". "Hush, harold...". "And I hear that the women dig prisoners. You will recieve proposals and letters from women wanting casual sex by the dozen". "Harold, shut up!". "Yes, dad, please".

So went the day. They insisted that they hire an assistant, for me. Or, mother did. Father wanted to hire me a prostitute, but that notion was vetoed. So, not only do I have to audition for friends, of which we have recieved dozens of applications, but I have to cope with an assistant too.