I am [name deleted] a computer scientist with central bank of Nigeria. I am 26 years old, just started work with C.B.N. I came across your file which was marked X and your released disk painted RED, I took time to study it and found out that you have paid VIRTUALLY all fees and certificate but the fund has not been release to you. The most annoying thing is that they cannot tell you the truth that on no account will they ever release the fund to you; instead they let you spend money necessarily. I do not intend to work here all the days of my life, I can release this fund to you if you can certify me of my security, and how I can run away from this Nigeria if I do this, because if I don't run away from this country after i made the transfer, I will be seriously in trouble and my life will be in danger.
Please you may not understand it because you are not a Nigerian. The only thing I will need to release this fund is a special HARD DISK we call it HD120 GIG. I will buy two of it, recopy your information, destroy the previous one, and punch the computer to reflect in your bank within 24 banking hours. I will clean up the tracer and destroy your file, after which I will run away from Nigeria to meet with you. If you are interested,
You should send to me your convenient tell/fax numbers for easy communications , so that there won't be any mistake.
Regards,
Miss [name deleted],
Computer Scientist.
Oh, wow. A hot young Nigerian babe—well, implicitly hot, anyway; I'm sure if I asked her to send me her photo she'd look like exactly like Tyra Banks—wants to help me get all my funds out of Nigeria, and then run away from Nigeria to be with me and my money. Not only is she beautiful and unprincipled, she's got brains, too, as she is no less than a Computer Scientist—because only a real Computer Scientist would know that hard disks containing classified data are routinely painted RED, which is the telling detail I needed to convince me she's telling the truth. And all the poor girl needs is enough money to buy two 120GB hard drives...
(What is that these days? About twenty-five bucks? Do they even make hard drives that small anymore?)
Okay, enough snickering at poor desperate Miss Name-Deleted's expense. Now it's time to take off your skeptic's hat, put on your writer's hat—cinch the hatband down good and tight, to restrict the bloodflow to your forebrain and take your I.Q. down by at least 25 points—and then ask yourself the two or three really important questions:
"What if it's all true?" and, "Who cares? How do I get a bestseller out of this?"
The brainstorming lamp is now lit. Have fun!
Posts
