The one that started it all…
(original message)From Ms Fatou Johnson,
I know my message will come to you as a surprise because we don’t know each other yet but nevertheless, i am writing with the greatest delight and personal respect, believing you will receive this message in good condition on health. Please do not wonder how or why i came to you because i don’t have any choice regarding the situation here in my country. my father (Engr. Johnson Kone) has just been assassinated and our House was burned with housemaid inside the house, as a result of the political crisis here in my country because he was opposition party to (Mr. Alassane Ouattara) a presidential candidate who declared himself a Winner against (S.E.M. Laurent Gbagbo) the Ruling President, following the election of 28th November 2010. Thank God i was not at home when the Rebels which they called protesters attacked our House.
Now, my life is in danger so i had to run out to a hiding place where i wrote you this email. Please, i need your urgent and confidential assistance to relocate over to your country with what is left of my late father that worth of $9.800,000,00 Million Dollars, deposited in the bank, and the deposit details are save with a Security Company here in my county Cote d’Ivoire, West Africa. i am willing to offer you 10% from the total fund if only you are willing to give me your full support with serious concern and sincerity. Now, i am waiting to give you more detail about me and how the fund will be transfer to you, thanks and God bless you!
Ms Fatou Johnson
May I call you Fatou?
I do hope this note finds you healthy and—at least for the time being—out of harm’s way.
It was so sad to read of your father’s passing.
“Passing” seems like such a trivial word, doesn’t it? I mean, the reality is that he was brutally gunned down by rebels posing as protesters, right?
My father always used to say, “Never trust a protestor. He may turn out to be a rebel in disguise.”
Wise words. I only wish your own father was able to hear them before his tragic demise.
Anyway, I digress.
Your life is in danger, and I would assume that time is of the essence. Are you hiding in Cote d’Ivoire? Oh wait—don’t answer that! You can never know who might read these things.
Boy, how embarrassing would it be for you to get captured over something silly like that, huh? My face would be nine shades of red, I’ll tell you.
It’s best that you don’t tell me where you are hiding, as I’m just the worst at keeping secrets. I remember once, when I was a kid, we were throwing a surprise birthday party for my Uncle Ed. Well, he wasn’t really my uncle, he was a long-time family friend who all us kids called uncle.
But we were having a big surprise party for Uncle Ed, and my job was to be on the lookout for him when he arrived. Big mistake. When he got to the house he said, “Hey Slugger”—that’s not really my name, of course, it’s what we in America call a nickname. So he says, “Hey Slugger, where is everybody?” And, without thinking, I say, “They’re all inside waiting to surprise you for your birthday.”
Well, everyone had a good laugh about it, but my mom and dad were NOT happy, let me tell you. Dad said I couldn’t watch TV that night and had to go to bed early.
But, as they say, lesson learned, right?
So, don’t tell me where you are hiding, because I’ll just go and blab it anyway.
Now, you said in your letter, you are in the process of relocating to my country, and that sounds like a great idea. Have you given any thought about where you will be living? I have a friend named Tom who is in real estate. He can probably help you find a condo or something pretty quickly. He’s got a lot of places on the market because, as you probably read about in the newspapers or saw on television, our housing market is kind of soft right now, so there are a lot of good deals available.
Word of advice—Tom can be a little pushy when he wants to close a deal. Forewarned is forearmed. I’m just saying is all.
In the meantime, you can probably stay at a Motel 6 until you get on your feet. They have pretty good rates by the day, week, or month. And they have a delicious scrambled eggs and hash brown breakfast, which is free (really!) for guests.
Ha! Look at me going on and on with this silly stuff, when you’re the one whose life is in danger.
So I was reading about that Laurent Gbagbo guy on the Wikipedia—have you ever used that thing? Boy it has EVERYTHING you can imagine. But it occurred to me, when I was reading about him, maybe you should ask him for help? I’m serious! I mean, he is partly responsible for the mess you’re in now, right? Maybe it’s worth a shot (sorry about that choice of word, but you know what I mean).
Anyhoo, I’ve got to head out and get some groceries, so I’ll sign off. Please keep in touch and let me know when you make it over to the USA. Maybe we can do lunch or something.
And now we wait for a reply…