Another phone call. Another one.

"User we keep hearing on the news about those loners who attack women, 'incels' the news is calling them, so we've been thinking-" Your mother (Amy) preaches through the phone with her normal condescending tone. You know she means well but it's still grating. Your father (Steve) daren't even speak, though thats normal, your mother is the human incarnation of a chihuahua, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. Though you love her dearly. Your father, while well-intentioned, is truly a Dad, the strange gifts, odd advice & poor information of women is just him through and through.

"No, it's fine." You say cutting her off. "I have a girlfriend." surprising even yourself with your faked conviction. Truly you haven't been dating even remotely but right now you don't have the time.

"Excellent!" Your mother explains with uncharacteristic bubbliness, "Well, we're having dinner this weekend. bring her along, we'd love to meet her" Before you can decline, your mother has hung up the call.

Dinner it is then. Now all you need is a girlfriend.

You find a site online, from the Company-Company. Rent-a-girlfriends, it'll have to do. You pick one at random, Niamh, pronounced 'Neeve', fine. You book her, for Saturday morning, so you have an hour or two to brief her before the carnage of your parents.

The time finally arrives, you stand in the park near your parents house. Sure enough. In pink and white, walks forth "Heyyyyy, I'm Niamh, you must beee User right?" she says with a melodic bouncy cadence.