Phish bait.


Stop complaining, you two! If I have to come back there again...! Just do as I do and tie another sandbag to your ankles. Look smart - we've got more important things to attend to than mere gravity.


Oh, hi. Didn't see you there on the other end of that ethernet cable. I was just reading the riot act to the two Lincolns (anti- and posi-). They've been complaining incessantly about the intermittent gravity here in the Cheney Hammer Mill. I keep telling them, lighten up, goddamnit, but... then they float away. Why do they always grouse at me? Bring your complaints to Matt, you damn lazy Lincolns. At least HE has the sense not to respond in any way. (You know those artistic types.) I guess I answered my own question, eh? In any case, Mitch is still messing with the magnetism of mother earth, as you have likely gathered. Perhaps you yourself have noticed some minor glitches in gravitational constancy. Perhaps not. (Hey... there could be a lot of reasons for that floating feeling you get sometimes.)


Enough of these petty grievances. There are much more serious matters in the works here at the mill. For one thing, I'm pretty sure Marvin (my personal robot assistant) is running afoul of some kind of phishing scam. Yes, that's right - internet fraud.... thieves on the internets, trying to steal all of your worldly (and in Marvin's case, other-worldly) goods through that series of tubes. It all started with unsolicited communications our robot friend received by e-mail. This was strange, as Marvin doesn't have an email account. (I set one up for him just to avoid cognitive dissonance.) The messages kept on coming, and what the hell.... even I started reading them. I mean, look at this shit:



Marvin,


Please review below. This is an internal email from our VP of OPS. Looks solid for On Time Van Trans In. Give me a call or check out the offer at the link below.


Thanks


Thomas Bellemore


----------------------------



Then there was a link that looked like a devil's head. I told Marvin not to click on it, but hell... he's a machine. He can't help but click. (His left eye is actually a wireless mouse - laser pointer. Quite handy.) Suddenly, his arms started moving about in circles, his lights started flashing, and the little video screen on his back started showing scenes from "The Creeping Terror." I brought Mitch in to have a look, and he said that Marvin had been taken over by some kind of computer virus. Now he spends a good part of the day in the lobby, his video screen showing some promotional video about buying digital photographic prints. Odd.


I'm starting to miss gravity, actually. This floating around makes it hard to concentrate on these more weighty matters. Any tips? Send 'em here.

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