304 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
304 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
The Real Anklebyter's guide.
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Due to the immense popularity towards the many "real" files, I have
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decided to compile a guide which shows what NOT to do to become a
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better user. Since I have not been an anklebiter for many a year, I
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find it fitting that I should write such a file.
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First, for those of you who are not familliar with the term
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"anklebiter", I will define it;
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ANKLEBITER: One who has not owned a modem for more than 6 months, and
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asks annoying questions about how to use it. Anklebiters cannot be
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blamed for their actions, because they just dont know any better.
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ANKLEBYTER: One who acts immature, and generally retarded on BBS's.
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Anklebyters are hated by everyone (exept by other anklebyters, as
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anklebyters tend to stick together) Anklebyters must be set straight
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or they will eventually poison the minds of anklebiters.
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Since we all were anklebiters at one time, I will direct this guide
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towards anklebyters, as there seems to be a large flood of them these
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days.
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HOW TO SPOT AN ANKLEBYTER
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-------------------------
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Real anklebyters can be of any age but are usually 12 or 13.
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Real anklebyters leave a "Pleeeze send me E-mail!!!" message at
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least once a week.
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Corollary: Only real anklebyters reply to such messages.
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Real sysop's, when spotting real anklebyters, delete them at once.
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Real anklebyters think that Half duplex is a small two family house.
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Real anklebyters hardly ever run BBS's, exept in rare occasions such
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as the case of Lyle Lexier.
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Real anklebyters cannot ever be real pirates or real sysops.
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Real anklebyters can be true leeches, or unreal system crashers, and
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usually are.
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When calling BBS's with 20+ message bases, real anklebyters always
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complain on the bitch board that there aren't enough.
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Corollary: Real sysops don't run BBS's with more than 13 message
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bases anyway.
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Real anklebyters have at least 5 different pseudo's.
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Real anklebyters name themselves after the t.v. shows they watch.
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(I.E. Pa Ingalls, Scrappy Doo, Jr. Frisky Frolic)
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Corollary: Real anklebyters never miss an episode of STAMPEDE
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WRESTLING.
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Real anklebyters try to get others to like them by setting up clubs
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populated solely by their many pseudo's.
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Corollary: Real anklebyters name their anklebyter clubs after them
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sound powerful. (I.E. Neo-nazi's, Resistance fighters, Jedi Knights,
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9" pricks)
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Real anklebyters pronounce "Sysop" SIGH-SOP. (Note: Correct
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pronunciation is SIS-OP)
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Corollary: Real anklebyters think SIGH-SOP is a new type of barbeque
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sauce.
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Real anklebyters are always posting messages about what rock groups
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they listen to.
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Corollary: Real anklebyters listen to Heavy Metal because they think
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people will like them if they do.
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When a Real anklebyter achieves a measley access level of 2, he
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considers himself more socially valuable than an anklebiter with level
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1.
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Corollary: Real anklebyters are always accusing others of being
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anklebyters.
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Real anklebyters watch POLICE STORY, and EYE ON HOLLYWOOD, when
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everyone else is watching LATE NIGHT WITH DAVID LETTERMAN.
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Real anklebyters try to sell games that foolish pirates gave to
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them.
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Corollary: Poor anklebiters, not knowing any better, buy such games.
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Real anklebyters use the family's computer.
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Corollary: Anklebyterness is hereditary so any brothers or sisters
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they have are usually anklebyters too.
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When on backspacing boards, Real anklebyters say "This message will
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erase itself" at the end of a message, then proceed to waste
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everyone's time by backspacing over the whole message (And knowing
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anklebyters, its around 90 lines of irrelevant shit).
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When on the local Bitch Board, real anklebyters always complain that
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there are never any new messages.
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Corollary: The reason there is never any new messages is because
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real anklebyters sit by their computer all day signing on to BBS's at
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least 4 times a day each. Not enabling any new messages to be posted.
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Everytime a Real anklebyter signs onto a BBS, the first thing he
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does is call for chat; even if last time he chatted with the sysop,
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the sysop booted him off.
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Real anklebyters type in upper case.
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Corollary: Real anklebyters refer to upper case as "Big letters",
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and lower case as "Small letters"
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When overhearing a Real Hacker discussing the p/w to some new
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system, Real anklebyters use the info and always mess things up for
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Real Hackers.
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Corollary: Real anklebyters always brag about being hackers, when
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their really just dick smackers.
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When running a BBS, Real anklebyters always cut in for chat, and
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sometimes when people say "I dont want to chat with you" they start to
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cry and threaten to delete your User I.D.
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Corollary: Only Real anklebyters care if he does it or not.
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Real anklebyters use at least 9 exlemation points at the end of
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their sentances.
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Corollary: Real anklebyters hardly ever make Real sentances anyway.
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Real anklebyters randomly pick people out of the user list to send
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E-mail to.
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Corollary: Only Real anklebyters reply to such messages, unless they
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are telling the anklebyter to fuck off.
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When reading files like this, and discovering they fit the
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description given, Real anklebyters begin to cry.
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GEORGE/AKA MR. MODEM MAN: PORTRAIT OF AN ANKLEBYTER
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---------------------------------------------------
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Hooking up a computer wasn't nearly as hard as George thought it
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would be. He simply plugged it in according to the diagram. Soon
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George was ready to start gaming! He had leeched a few games from his
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pals at school, and one of them told him to get a modem. George
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didn't know what a modem was, but because of the cute name, George
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asked his parents. Naturally they agreed to buy George the best modem
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on the market, the micromodem IIe! after getting the best deal in
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town, George and his family came home $400 poorer... but at least they
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had a micromodem! The man at the store had been so nice, he gave
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George a list of phone numbers he could call with his new modem.
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George listened in on the extension after dialing one of the numbers
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off of his list. Someone picked up the phone, so George announced
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"Hello! I just got a modem, is this a modem num-" George was cut off
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by a terrible noise which blared at him through the handset. In
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tears, George yelled "That doesn't seem right! Daaaaaad-deeeee!"
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George's father rushed in to see what was wrong. George told him the
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whole thing...
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"Why don't we see if there was any damage done to the computer
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Georgie? then if anything went wrong we can get it fixed and have it
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back by morning!" his father comforted him. Walking into the bedroom,
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which was littered with lego's and G.I. Joe action figures, they
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noticed something was happening on the screen.
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ENTER U.I.D. OR NEW ==
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It said, waiting for a reply. George was over joyed as he reached
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up to hug his father. Then he settled down at the keyboard to see if
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he could hack into this system.
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U.I.D.
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George entered, knowing it would work, because he was a hacker. It
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didn't work, but George shrugged it off, after all, he was just
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starting, it could take 5 or 10 minutes before he got in... Getting a
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brilliant idea, George entered
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NEW
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It worked! He applied for a P/W and soon realized that this wasn't
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a private system after all! He laughed in his shrill voice and leaned
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over to turn his computer off. It was 8:00 pm, his bedtime, and he
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needed rest because by tomorrow he would be validated!
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The next day George asked his parents if he could stay home from
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school to use his modem. They agreed happily, and once again George
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sat down at the computer and dialed that number. This time he did not
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fall for that tricky log on procedure, and was on line within seconds!
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George browsed through the BBS and decided to leave a message.
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From: Mr. Modem Man Date: Tue Feb 16th 1986
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HI EVERYONE! I JUST GOT MY MODEM! I WANT TO TRADE SOFTWARES!PLEASE
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LEAVE ME E-MAILS!!! I NEED E-MAILS!!! HA HA HA !!! HI MR. SYSOP, ARE
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YOU WATCHING ME? HA HA HA!
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.S
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*.SS
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SAVE
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HOW DO I END THIS THING???
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HA HA!! YES
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-S
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HA HA AH AH HA HA!!!!
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(millions of carriage returns)
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George called back ten minutes later, expecting a reply. No one had
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called. He decided to take it upon himself to notify the sysop of the
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lack of callers, so he selected the chat with sysop function. A few
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minutes later the sysop broke in.
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--- Sysop here ---
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Yes?
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HI I'M MR.MODEM MAN WANNA TRADE?HA HA!
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Umm, sure I have nothing better to do.
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OK!!!!A!! THANX DUDE!!!!!
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Ok, what kind of modem do you have?
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A MICROMODEM!!!! IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS!
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Yeah sure...
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IT IS!!! (George banged on his cheap clone keyboard which sent several
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keys plummeting to the floor.)
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Ok whatever you say ...Do you have AE...
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(George glanced at his keyboard, noticing that his A,U, and I key were
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currently scattered among his lego's. George said;)
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WELL MY A KEY IS ON THE FLOOR!!!!HAAHA!
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Fuck you asshole...
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-- Sysop out --
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George began to cry.Never before had he been called such names...
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it didn't matter though, that guy was just jealous of his modem, thats
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all!
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()()()( - ONE WEEK LATER - )()()()
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George considered himself a professional hacker/phreaker/pirate
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now, and tomorrow the sysop was coming over to his house to trade
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games!
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The next day, at exactly 7:00 pm there was a knock on the door.
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George answered, expecting to see someone about his age. (12) instead,
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he was surprised to see that the person which he had been talking to
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earlier was 17 and carried what appeared to be a baseball bat.
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"Hi! Are you that loser who's going to give me some games?! Ha ha
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ha!" The figure casually stepped inside without saying a word.
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Proceding to George's bedroom, he glanced into the kitchen to see if
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any family members were around.
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"Are your parents home?" he asked, as George skipped happily into
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his room.
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"No, I can stay all by myself now!!! Ha ha ha!!" George giggled as
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he turned on his computer.
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"Good that makes it easier" The person at the doorway said.
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"Yeah," George replied "So we can trade wares!!!!!! You can play
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with some of my G.I. Joe figures while this loads, if you want to."
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"It's ok, I'm not into that kind of thing..."
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"Whats your name?" George inquired as the words "LOCKSMITH 5.0
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WRITTEN BY MR. MODEM MAN" appeared on the screen.
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"Never mind," the figure said in a deep, cold voice "Sector edited
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your name into Locksmith eh?"
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"Yeah!!!" George announced proudly "Bet you couldn't do that!!!!!!"
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George's parents were down the street having dinner at the Jone's
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house. They had drank a little too much Sherry, so were unable to hear
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poor little George's screams of terror.
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The bat came down swiftly onto Georges computer, producing a sharp
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crack, unlike the sound George's head had made not two minutes
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earlier. As the lone figure walked out of the house, and down the
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street, George's dog trotted into the room. Rover was a Saint
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Bernard, and his favorite pass time was consuming fresh meat. After
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chewing the last of the tender flesh, Rover curled up on George's bed
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and had a nice, deep sleep.
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