The wheels are in motion, the vultures are circling. Phase 1 is complete.
My safety nets (or subnets, to be exact) are in place, I've got enough
proxies set up it's going to take them a loooong time to trace me. Sweet.
After watching the manic server tech get ushered out of Geo HQ in a
straitjacket--"It must've been the long hours", I said--I went into the
conference room to see if the guys had saved me any donuts. Nope. Instead
of leftover pastries I found my dear Bastard Rookie In Training engaged
in an energetic conversation with some new guy I have never seen before...
New guy> "Get their site pulled?"
BRIT> "No, if you do that they'll just repost their website somewhere
else. Because of that damn Sherman Antitrust law free webpage providers
are popping up all over the place! You've got to make sure that when you
shut them up, they STAY shut up."
New guy> "Ahhh..I get it now...First we have a few letters sent from
our legal department, telling them they're going to be sued, and scare
them absolutely frigging shitless!"
BRIT> "Well, that's a start...Then what? Think!"
New guy> "Get their site pulled?"
BRIT> "Think harder."
New guy> "Oh, I got it! Put them on the ISP blacklist, forge some spams
and get them TOSsed off their ISP, and since they're blacklisted they can't
get a new one!"
BRIT> "Excellent. You know, you may be the next BGFH after all!"
New guy> "Cool. But what if they use a dialup account at a friend's
BRIT> "Don't worry about it. The GeoStapo Secret Service will be monitoring
their every move by then, and will get anything they post removed within
minutes. Hey, you forgot something..."
New guy> "What?"
BRIT> "Get their site pulled! That's the funnest part of all."
My, my BRIT is learning fast. He is already training a BRIT of his
own, to do his work for him. Looks like my work as BGFH is almost done...
Hm, where's that Bastard (ex)Homesteader From Hell when you need him?
* * *
"Payback time, BGFH," said the Bastard (ex)Homesteader From Hell. Well,
not *the* BxHFH. One BxHFH had rounded up, on short notice, about twenty-five
other BxH'sFH, a dozen miscellaneous Geo foes, and several current 'steaders
(also FH). "Sound off!" messaged the head BxHFH to the others who had logged
into his private server. The responses were not long in coming.
"Sandell, here. *fart*"
"Porasso, here. Let's get 'em!"
"The forces of HitlerCities.home.ml.org eagerly await..."
"Heartland CLs here. Ready for action!"
"X.net's ready, man. The proxies are in-place and spoofers spoofing.
Firewall's been tested thouroughly by the best we've got. You're bulletproof."
"SiliconValley CLs, ready. Gotcha those megs you wanted..."
"O, here. I've got an ace up my sleeve. AdFarce Virus IV! We'll take
out IMGIS.COM while we're at it...I think it's the brains of Geo's whole
operation...they're powerless without it!"
A few moments later all supporters had checked in. A complex system
of firewalls, proxy servers and diversions (with the help of some FH's
targeting Geo's biggest advertisers) had been set up to take the heat off
the renegade BxHFH long enough to wreak his havoc upon the 'Cities.
"O: What's on the agenda for today?"
"Oh, we're just testing the network."
* * *
"Testing the network."
That's what the new server tech told GeoManagement he was doing, anyway.
I the original BGFH, found this out when I ran into him in the hallway,
Zip disk in hand, on his way to the lab to install Quake on all the computers.
"Why Quake?" I asked him.
"Cuz there's nothin' better to do. What do you think, I'd be watching
the server? ..Hah!" Tech
"Arent you worried about GeoManagement finding out?" Me
"Hell, no. They've got their heads so far up their asses they can see
"Besides, I told 'em I was installing a network diagnostics program."
"But that's lying!" Me
"No it's not. I'm the best Quake player this side of the continent"--yes,
he was modest too--"If I beat everybody like I always do"--real
modest--"then there's nothing wrong. If I get lagged and fragged, it means
network problems." Tech
After about twenty minutes all the lab's machines were outfitted with
the finest in network diagnostics software.
"Now I've got to, um, test the installation (tee hee hee) You want
to join me?" Tech
"In a bit--I'll use the comp in my office. I'll join the game with
you soon as I get there." Me
After a few minutes of toying with the settings, the tech started the
game. 'Bastard' was already waiting for him.
"Hey, Bastard, I didn't think you'd get in here so quick." Tech
"Well, what can I say?" came the reply.
The deathmatch started and the two went at each other. Bastard sniped
from the top of a tall cliff, and Tech returned fire from his hiding place
in a dark corner. "Camper!" called Bastard. "I'm not camping!...And you're
sniping! That's just as bad!" Tech went round the level to collect more
rockets; meanwhile Bastard nabbed a biosuit and secured a position under
some toxic slime. "Come and get the rockets, Tech," he thought to himself.
A third player entered the game. "Sorry I'm late. Loundy caught me
on my way to my office and interrogated me about who ate his jelly doughnut."
"Bastard Geo From Hell? Is that you?" typed the tech.
"Yep," said the player that just entered.
Waaait...If that's you, then who's....
* * *
"I better get out of here" thought the Bastard (ex)Homesteader From
Hell. Having leeched all the internal files he needed from Geo's server,
he decided to duck out of the Quake match and disconnect before the GeoBoneheads
got wise to the intrusion. I wonder who 'Tech' is anyway," the BxHFH mused.
"Hah. Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought. They don't know jack
s**t about security, or jack s**t about networks...hell, they don't even
have anyone monitoring the network! They're all using it to play games
and download pornography."
But he had to give them *some* credit for how well Geo kept its workers
content. GeoManagement was doing very well. After all, a goldbricking employee
is a happy employee.
--BxHFH, continuing in his diary--
The gang's all here--so to speak. Need a diversion...Sabotaging Geo's
outfit temporarily... it'll give us some time to think. 'O' is planning
to unleash a fourth-revision AdFarce virus on PicklesDirect, a primary
Geo advertiser. This should keep Geo pretty unilaterally occupied for the
next several days. AFV IV will be released in about seven minutes...
* * *
"Ho, man, has it been a long night" sighs the Bastard Geo From Hell.
All of the other Geos have long since gone home, except the GeoStapo and
Trademark Enforcers, who are still down in the 'cave' searching for critic
pages. It can probably be guessed that Geo no longer has a midnight server
tech. "On the bright side, tomorrow is our weekly Hate Training."
Every Geo looked forward to Hate training. During this weekly session
Geos were assisted in becoming bastards like, well, the Bastard Geo From
Hell. The sessions helped them become assertively ruthless, spiteful, overbearing,
et cetera... These days were a universal source of enjoyment for the collective
Wearing a mischevious grin, the Bastard Geo From Hell packed up his
floppies and Playboy and went home.