Missive to The Boss

[Number 4]

Orders received. Number 11 has been dispatched with orders to
apprehend Number 6.

Believe him to be in Vienna awaiting the return of the imposter comte
and his wife. Number 6 must be stopped before he disrupts the plans.

Number 4

[The New Number 2]

Number 4 wrote:

But even as you depart your cottage, Number 6, your
effort to disguise yourself as Number 4 fails. You
step into a large TV studio where a crowd sits in rows
of seats arrayed around a stage. The stage holds three
large, colorful doors. An emcee in a garish suit stands
in front of the doors and beams at you. "Number 6!" he
shouts. "Come on down!"

Two beautiful, smiling young women in scanty costumes
appear, and you break into a cold sweat as they approach
you. You tremble in terror as--for the first time in your
life--a woman gets close to you and touches you. The two
women lead you to the stage, where everyone stares at you.

"Number 6!" the emcee says into his microphone. "Welcome to our show!"

"I am not Number 6!" you claim. "I am Number 4!"

Great gales of laughter sweep from the crowd, while the
two ladies giggle and the emcee chuckles. "That's the
spirit, Number 6!" the emcee declares. "Now let's play
The Real Number Six! Pick the right door and you win!
Which door are you behind, Number 6?"

Bewildered as ever, you stare at the three doors. "Show
me door cache2.wrdsb.on.ca!" you say.

The door has 199.212.250.101 on it and it swings open.
Who steps out but your good friend Adolph Hitler! "Hoch!
Hoch!" he shrieks as he goose-steps across the stage to you.
"Death to der subhumans who are not Aryans! Dr. Morrell, vhere
are mein drugs? Eva, mein leibchen, kommen sie here un
relieven yourself on mein face! Roehm! Ernst Roehm! Let
us be alone together in der flophouses of Vienna!" And
Hitler gives you a wet, sloppy kiss on your mouth. "Mein
beloved Number 6!" he bellows in your face.

The crowd roars in approval. "Yes, indeed!" the emcee
declaims. "Number 6 is a Hitler clone!"

"No, no!" you scream at the crowd. "I'm not a Natsi!"

The crowd hoots derisively until the emcee raises his arms
for silence. "Oh-ho!" he announces. "Number 6 wants to
play for double or nothing! Pick another door, Number 6!"

Like the desperate loser you are, you point to another door
as you soil your pants. "wan-redcross-6.chatt.net!" you wail.
"66.114.6.6!"

So then the next door swings open and a hooded member of the
Ku Klux Klan strides onto the stage. "Right again, Number 6!"
the emcee says to applause. "A cowardly little bigot who
hides behind a sheet--and a pointed hood that fits his pointy
little head! He's out to kill and rape and maim anyone who
isn't a white-trash loser! So he loves you, doesn't he!
He's your kind of butthead!"

You fall to the stage and beat your fists on it as
the crowd goes wild. "No! No! No!" you whine. "That isn't
me! I'm Number 4! I'm better than that psychotic pervert
Number 6!"

The crowd laughs until every man-jack of them is hoarse.
"You're exactly like him!" the emcee tells you, "because
you cooparate with him. We know how Number 6 posted from
your server--needed your help for that, didn't he? Look
at the evidence behind the third door--esjv.com.hk, also
known as 203.198.49.218!"

As the door opens you sob something about only posting
through Google and how clbl...@hotmail.com must have
hacked your ISP. but nobody here believes you. Nobody
believes that three separate trolls have shown up now,
on this newsgroup, to harrass the same person while
using hotmail addresses and posting through Google with
similar screen names. And even if, through some unbelievable
chance, Number 4 is not Number 6--nobody cares. You're
known by the company you keep, and you've kept company
with trash.