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The sun was
dazzling through my window when I woke up some time in the
afternoon. I opened my window and inhaled the fresh air, glad
that it was such a beautiful day outside. I gazed for a moment
more outside my apartment at the luminous lake, taking in the
view for one final instant. I then closed the window and
pulled down the shades, insulating the room in a dark cloak.
Virtual profit has no time for things like nature and
sunshine. I opened up Trillian and Outlook Express; I knew
that I would have to be as accommodating as possible with my
chat programs, leaving them on at all hours in case any
prospective investors tried to contact me. I scoured my inbox
for emails related to ZZZZ Best, but alas, all I received was
the usual "DO YOU WANT A BIGGER PEN IS 1jASDJXJ@!#FD" crap.
For a few seconds, I pouted malcontentedly, then perked up as
I remembered my conversation with HardHead. Surely, he would
have an answer to my generous offer!
I rummaged through my ICQ contact list, scrolling through the
hundreds of useless people in search of the one who could make
me richer than Bill Gates. Unfortunately, his name was in red,
which meant he was logged off. Perhaps I can discuss business
with Trazir then, I thought. I scrolled down through the names
to T.
Red.
I was quickly becoming annoyed at the inactivity which was
occurring beyond my control. The fishing net had been cast far
and wide, I knew this, but the hardest part was waiting for
the fish to entangle themselves. For the first time in weeks,
I got up from my computer, walked out of my house, and
socialized with people I hadn't seen outside of class in
months.
I returned some time late that night, my vision blurry, my
head spinning, and my bowels blaring. My once heroic alcohol
tolerance had been reduced to that of a 6 year old child's
over the course of playing Eve for months on end. I moved
towards my computer, but quickly realized that the bathroom
would be a more appropriate place for me at that moment. After
discharging the contents of my stomach, I was strangely
invigorated. My moment of elation quickly dissipated, though,
as I checked my inbox for messages about ZZZZ Best and found
naught but more Viagra ads. I collapsed on my couch and sulked
myself to sleep.
This process repeated itself for the next several days, minus
the alcohol. No emails, no instant messages, no HardHead, no
Trazir. My world had been travelling at hyperspace speed, a
billion miles per hour, and for some inexplicable reason it
all stopped. Maybe the Great Magnet was exerting its pull on
me, using this respite as a warning to keep me from continuing
on, to keep me from disrupting and quite possibly destroying
the fragile equilibrium of Eve's economy.
Or maybe I had just been drinking too much coffee.
I decided to give Trazir a call and see just what the hell he
was up to. He sounded pretty bad.
"Hel.." *COUGH* "Hello?" He moaned.
"What the hell man? Are you sick?"
"Yeah dude, I've been feeling kind of bad. That's why I
haven't been on lately if you're wondering."
"Have you gotten any responses yet for our little deal?"
"Uh... Lemme check." An eternity passed as I waited for him to
ferret through his inbox, which doubtlessly had more junk in
it than a typical Brooklyn Street. "Sorry man, I don't see
anything."
"God damn it, do you know how long it's been dude? Those
message board threads we posted are probably at the bottom of
the heap by now, and the other guy I was telling you about
went AWOL. I think we need to step it up, BIG TIME."
"Well, I agree. What do you think we should do?"
I pondered this query for more than a few seconds. It was the
$64000 question, and the wrong answer would lead to heartache
and waste. Finally, I responded.
"I remember reading a story once about this guy who worked as
an attorney during the summer, right after he graduated from
law school. He was working in the California area, and all the
law firms there had reached an agreement to pay the law
students $500 less per week than they normally would have.
This guy somehow found out about the dastardly pay he would be
receiving, and created a bunch of accounts on AOL. He posted
in the California lawyer forums and started a huge flame war
with himself; he used the various accounts to argue both sides
of the issue, and changed up his writing style for each
account name. He dragged other, real people into this flame
war, and the controversy became so great that the law firms
eventually gave in and raised the pay back to its normal
level."
"Interesting... Very interesting. So what do you think we
should do?"
"We're gonna go undercover, man, like the fucking CIA. And
we're gonna hype the hell out of this investment deal on every
Eve forum that was ever made. And we're gonna do it using
hotmail accounts for our registration email addresses, so I
suggest that you get out a legal pad and start coming up with
hotmail account names and passwords. I'm personally gonna
register 25 hotmail accounts tonight, and I hope you do the
same. I'll call you back tomorrow, and we'll start posting
like a couple crack whores on crack."
"Crack whores on crack? What the fuck does that mean?"
"Never mind. Go and start registering dude," I responded. I
hung up the phone and got to work.
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