Monday January 31st 2011, 11:42 pm
Filed under: Attack Of The Internet!, Friends, Word Nerd

Reid A. Book Comics, Short Stories, Radio Dramas and Exotic Pets, Ltd. presents:


Vol. 1, #1: “Improbable Probability Probably Propable!”
A fantastic tale of sensational spectacularism by Reid Levin, E.I.C.

Drink Moxie!

It was a particularly cold Monday morning when my phone exploded with the sort of tone that sounded like it was trying to say, “Dios mio! Reid! Reid! Reid! A Facebook message of extreme importance has just arrived! It is critical that it be read immediately!!!” It was a quiet pleasant chiming noise, really, easily ignored as I spoke to my doctor and forgotten before I’d left the examination room.

Later that day, when I arrived back home, I activated my phone to reach out and touch someone. There was a notification on the phone’s screen about the bygone dispatch from my close confidant Mr. M. Gallo. I eagerly dismissed the notification so as to read Gallo’s message, only to be blocked by another notification.’s word of the day had been posted. A mere hindrance, a notification of no consequence when compared to Gallo’s important communiqué (the only kind of communiqué he ever sends). I dismissed’s irritating impediment of a message posthaste and proceeded to read my crony’s message of dire importance, cleverly titled “A message of not exceeding importance, but still…” so as to disguise its true import. A classic move by my old friend Gallo. With a tone that implied immediate action was absolutely necessary, he warned:

…it looks like sometime recently you friended someone on here named “Kim Wendy” probably because her profile says ‘Pace’ and she has many other Pace “friends”– but I don’t think she’s a real person- I think it’s a spam-bot-phish-fake account. Look at her page.
Just saying…

I read with growing unease his grave warning of a robotic flimflam man, a bilker, a bunco, a con artist, a crook, a cheat, a hustler, a scammer, a swindler, an all around shady and indecent machine until “Good Lord!” burst from my mouth as if shot from my trusty Kensington .25.

Gallo’s message was right, but it was too late. I had, in fact, had a previous suspicious encounter with this contraption of lies, which presented itself as a colleague. I’d been had! Duped! Swindled! Bamboozled! Hornswoggled! And then, the worst part of all: I ran out of synonyms! My fingers dashed to open the app to use it’s built-in thesaurus, so that I could fully exclaim just how hard that lying piece of Satan’s technology had megabit me.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The word of the day that I had earlier dismissed as inconsequential held my gaze; I could not look away. My jaw dropped in utter astonishment. The word: thimblerig, a verb meaning “to cheat or to swindle!” It was a coincidence of galactic proportions that gave me my final synonym. That no-good automaton thimblerigged me! Believe it… or not!


Drink Moxie!

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