Deception Dossier // VOL. 1 // The Spinnacker Report

Goddamn, motherfucking Facebook

from: [email protected]
to: [email protected]

I knew that facefuck zuck would eventually catch up to me. You ever spill a glass of OJ on yourself during a sticky summer’s day and can’t find a tap? Well, that’s what this feels like.

Where to start? Guess it’s been the usual story. The pit of the gut feeling I got the second that subject line popped up from you know who: Sensitive Files in Need of Recovery—Can You Help?

I’d promised myself ever since that uPort fiasco, ‘No more Etherium-holes.’ But, I’ve recently been keeping some new company and, well, you know what they say D, “Sardines sure don’t come cheap when you got a hungry kitty to feed.”

I mean. Fuck. I’d managed to avoid SocialSynch™ through it all. Back in the real old days when it was just an extension of your social media network? Forget it. When they made it the only fucking way to become an e-voter? I simply forfeited my rights. Then, it became the de facto purchasing system for Amazon. I just started buying crap from old Hanoitown with first gen bitnotes.

But as surely as the sun’s rising, D, that mothercunt has finally arrived to engulf me.

The case involves a kid is the thing. Some dumbshit 16-year old with a face full of funk and freckles, three body-mods, and of course a proclivity for herbal remedies. He’s also damn handy with a net connection given the right fee.

I couldn’t pass on it. If I didn’t get to him first, we’d lose another one to ‘The Cause.’

Of course, you see where this is going, right? It was the only way to establish first contact. Ha—the little bastard’s cemented himself a wall as high as he gets in front of those old episodes of Rick and Morty.

Anyway, I guess this was just a little note to let you know I’ve ‘succumbed.’ Guess it’s all downhill from here.

I’ll send more info soon.

Stay shooting,
DS

[ transcript :: 10/3/21 :: 01:13 ]

yungmalthus: k, you ready??
hiphopocrates: i b1n ready
yungmalthus: 1v1, 20 rounds.
hiphopocrates: awp only
yungmalthus: wise guy, eh¿
hiphopocrates: lessgo

[ 10/3/21 :: 01:25 ]

yungmalthus: poor icarus, 1 knew him well
hiphopocrates: again with the w3ird r3fs
yungmalthus: i cant help if u a philistin3 AND a sore loser
hiphopocrates: rematch?
yungmalthus: surewhynot
hiphopocrates: loading . . .
yungmalthus: lol dude, some old dude hit me up url today
hiphopocrates: ha like for a sex thing?
yungmalthus: lol god, no. what kind of a fr3ak do you take me for?
hiphopocrates: so what he want?
yungmalthus: you know that kid, martin johnstone
hiphopocrates: course, im in the same pe class
yungmalthus: lol, you go to pe
hiphopocrates: not all us n00bs live in the labs
yungmalthus: gtg
hiphopocrates: no wait, don’t be so t0uchy?
hiphopocrates: what did this dude have to do with johnstone??

[ 10/3/21 :: 01:31 ]

yungmalthus: he wanted to know if i’d ever hacked into his father’s system?
hiphopocrates: god, u can be so dramatic sumtimes
hiphopocrates: so what u tell him?
yungmalthus: ¯_(ツ)/¯
hiphopocrates: you know i hate shruggy
yungmalthus: us3 that damn h3ad of yours, kid. this aint a secure line
hiphopocrates: oh r1ght
yungmalthus: lets talk more before a$$embly tomo, might need yo help
hiphopocrates: sounds good
yungmalthus: and after ive wh0pped yo a$$ again
hiphopocrates: fuckyou 10 bots ...

Martin Johnstone, St. Marks Preparatory School, June 2022. I mean, who goes up to a guy in a change room after pe like that. One moment you’re there thinking about what you’re going to need for next period, and then all of a sudden, fucking Trevor Sachs. Classic Trevor. What do we need to study for Friday’s exam, he said. As if I’m supposed to know, I thought. Like, why must you of all people ask me that exact question as this very moment while I stand around half-naked preparing to step into the shower?

Of course, there was more. I hear your dad’s been having a hard time of late, he said. My dad? Trevor Sachs, that shitgrin-eating cypunk, never says more than three words to me; suddenly wants to know how my dear old pops is doing. Now the thing is I had noticed something off-color about Hank around that time. In fact the week prior he’d been spending an awful lot of time holed up in that old study of his. Usually I could tell if it was just him going about his business with the Firm, but this was different. Maybe it was those subtle black rings under his eyes, or that few days-old stubble he usually reserved for fishing trips. Whatever the case, I knew something was up. And then there was that business with Trevor. I decided to play it cool.

Who’s asking, I told Trevor. Oh, you know, inquiring minds, he said in that typical smarmy manner of his. Inquiring minds, the cheek. If I was to tell you anything, I said, what would be in it for me? Suddenly Trevor started acting all offended, like I should have dared to suggest his intentions were purely altruistic. Bullshit. He knew it, I knew it, the whole jig was up.

????? apparently had been wondering, because he’d heard someone had stolen some files from Hank. Well, I told Sachsofshit, it would be news to me but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted to steal from my scumbag of a father. So Trevor told me if I could just get him our home network ip address he’d be able to find out for sure, and get me any other delicate information I might want to use for my own purposes one day. I replied “sure and half of whatever he and ????? are getting paid”. Lousy guy agreed to that on the spot, didn’t even try to bargain. It was around then that I figured our family could be in for some interesting times ahead.

end transmission 1

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