The Art of Scamming

It was 3:42 PM on a chilly summer's day in Gavaldon, New Mexico, and Agatha apparently had a computer virus. She reread the flashing popup for the fortieth time and let out a groan.

WARNING! it announced in angry red letters. Your computer may be infected. The system has detected two (2) potentially malicious viruses. Your personal and financial information may not be safe. To remove viruses, call Tech Support online now at +1 (866) 627-4049.

This is definitely a scam, Agatha thought, already regretting as she dialed the number on her phone. After so many rings she thought she wouldn't get a response, a man on the other side reluctantly picked up.

"Hi," a deep, glum voice responded. "How are you doing today-"

"Alright, let's cut the crap - I just got a popup on my computer and it's glaringly obvious to me that it's not an official Apple Support thing, and I'm not exactly a tech-savvy girl. It told me to call this number for 'tech support' so that you can hack my computer system and do whatever the hell you scammers do. To be completely honest, I don't give a damn whether you steal the couple hundreds I have left in the bank or not but what I truly detest are liars. So I want to know if you actually detected Troyjen Cattle and if so I want you to remove them right now, or I will call the police."

Agatha took several deep breaths to calm down. She thought about what her therapist always told her when she got particularly angry: "In with the calm, out with the anxiety." Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In-

The man on the line began to chuckle, startling her out of her meditative state.

"What's so funny?" she snapped.

"Trojan Horses."

"What?!"

"The viruses. They're called Trojan Horses, not Troyjen Cattle."

Agatha blanched. "Oh."

The man continued to giggle at her expense. She felt her blood boiling.

"Well, that doesn't change the fact that I can call the authorities right now on your sorry scammer asses! I demand that you remove these Horses at once!"

He was practically cackling now. She imagined tears of hysteria streaming down his stupid fat face. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She hated this man. No, she absolutely detested him. She had never hated anyone so much in her life!

"I'm going to count to three," she snapped. "If you don't stop this incessant noise I am seriously calling the cops."

"No, you wouldn't. You're bluffing," he mumbled. Gross, she thought. He's talking with his mouth full. That habit is disgusting.

"You don't know me," she growled. "I am tougher than I look- um, sound. I will not hesitate to-"

"Yeah, yeah. Look, miss..."

"Agatha. Agatha Castellano."

"Well, hello Agatha, it's nice to meet you. I'm Tedros and I highly doubt you're going to do that, considering your recent history of crime."

Agatha stiffened. "Well, Mr. Tedros, I'll let you know that I've never committed a single crime in my life!"

"Was worth a try," he responded, still loudly chewing.

She scowled. "You're definitely the most horrible scammer I've ever had to deal with in my life. First of all, your virus pop-up alert was clearly unofficial. I mean, it was flashing red for god's sake! No legitimate alert would ever come across as intimidating-"

"Hort was in charge of artistic design. I told him red was too aggressive and he should've chosen something a little mellower like baby blue or pastel pink, but he said pink reminds him too much of his ex-girlfriend Sophie. It was her signature color or whatever. Hort was really upset when she ran off on their wedding night with his other ex, Nicola, and I guess he channeled his anger into our color scheme. Never thought Sophie was a good egg, to be honest. There was always something a bit off about her-"