This message is for a Mrs Rebecca "three-tits" O'Hare, of 14, the Crescent, Tralee, Co. Kerry, Ireland
It would appear that you left your cellphone in my bathroom, last night. I couldn't tell what it was at first, because I just heard U2's Moment of Surrender coming from a pile of puke on the floor. I put my rubber gloves on and sifted through, and found a Samsung Galaxy X24+ with 269 missed calls, all from the same telephone number. The battery was close to dead, and I don't have a Samsung charger. There was a crack on the screen, and unfortunately as I cleaned the puke from it, some bits of what I can only assume to be carrot got embedded in the crack. I used a Q-tip to remove it, but sadly the crack is now filled with bits of fluff from the Q-tip.
I do wish to complain about the foul odor emanating from my laundry room, which, upon further inspection, turned out to be flea-covered sashimi which you apparently dumped in my laundry hamper. I can only assume your inebriation made you unaware of the inappropriateness of your actions.
I should inform you that I have no memory of last night. I do seem to be wearing a pair of Women's underwear, which surprised me, but they are way too small to be yours, and I would appreciate your enlightenment.
A quick review of my security camera footage reveals that you were fully clothed when you stumbled out of my home at 3:30 AM, save for a bare left foot. I have searched for your missing right shoe, to no avail. In fairness, there is a blind spot in my camera from the rear end of the house near the sauna.
Please contact me immediately to get your phone and to clear up any misunderstandings that may have emerged from our evenings activities.
Also, if you could explain the three Cuban cigar stubs on my porch, I'd be appreciative, as I don't smoke.
Yours sincerely,
Sir Alfred Wilkinson, Esq.