Lottery

To the authorities: If I'm ever found dead on the floor, just apprehend my younger son, who will surely be the death of me!  Here's why:
I was out all day (see below) and didn't get home until about 5:00.  Did this and that before checking my e-mail.  When I did, I saw a message from Mike, who lives in the U.K., asking me to buy him twenty dollars worth of lottery tickets and he'd reimburse me.  He didn't include any numbers, so I wrote back saying I'd just do it randomly, and went over and bought them at Acme.  
Got up this morning to see Mike had e-mailed me a specific set of numbers, adding the personal reasons why: 5-Violet's age next birthday, 23-day I got my drivers' license, 22-Paula's birthday, and so on.  I idly went into the Powerball site and saw---YES, THE NUMBERS HE PICKED, EVERY SINGLE ONE!
My screams of horror could probably be heard in the U.K. Shaking like a leaf, I called him at home, talked to Paula and got his mobile number, called that and babbling like a fool, tried to tell him my horrendous mistake.  His reaction to hearing he missed winning 440 million dollars: What, did you take that seriously?  England's time is five hours ahead of EST, and he had seen the numbers before he sent me the last e-mail.  Yes, a setup.
Oh-h-h.  I can't even convey the relief I felt after hearing that--not to mention the undying fury to have gone through that ordeal.  Why, the fiend, the ungrateful wretch, the poorest excuse for a loving son on the planet, the...
Actually, it was pretty funny.