Scam Bait Vol. 7: In Need Of Foreign Partner

By Bub 

Mr.Song Li
Hang Seng Bank Ltd.
Sai Wan Ho Branch,
83, Des Voeux Road,
Hong Kong.


Good Day,

Please kindly accept my apology for sending you this email without your
consent. I believe you are a highly respected personality, considering the
fact that I sourced your profile from the peoples search database on the
web during my descret search for a foreign partner whom can assist me in
taking this business to it success. Though, I do not know to what extent
you are familiar with events. I have a proposal for you.This however is
not mandatory nor will I in any manner compel you to honor against your
will, but I hope you will read on and consider the value I offer.

My name is Mr. Song Li, I am the credit officer in Hang Seng Bank, Hong
Kong. I need your assistance in executing a transaction worth $65.5m
intend to give 30% of the total funds as compensation for your assistance.


1. Full names
2. Private phone number
3. Current residential address

Kind Regards,
MR.SONG LI.

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Dear Mr. Li,

I fear you may have fallen under the deceitful influence of a dear enemy. You see, I have submitted my name to several discrete/secreted/desecrated/sadism-based foreign investment databases. However, I am always known for my looks not my personality. It is rather a point of pride as I spend most of my investment earnings on cosmetic enhancement products such as mustache wideners and mustache brighteners. Two pinches for a pound as my mum always said. Poor old girl...

I appreciate to an extent your choice to make this offer non-mandatory, as it shows a certain level of respect. However you have now put the onus on me to make up my mind as to whether I want to accept your offer or not. You see, this wastes valuable energy, energy that could be better spent cultivating mustaches. In the future you may consider everyone's convenience and forgo the formalities in favor of physical coercion.

As for events, I am familiar with most of the major ones; Birth, Death, Growth of a Mustache, The Golden Globes, 9/11 etc... If you require a complete list I can email you an attachment but I should warn you that it will just be The Bible cut & pasted wholecloth onto a Word document.

Your offer is indeed quite generous. I would be happy to execute your enemy for 20 million dollars. I bet he is a relation to that devious duke that runs the Peoples Search Database. Those Poles are all alike. Well, I don't have to tell you, do I Dr. Li? I recall receiving your last email entitled "Polish Primary School Jokes". What a lark that was. My favorite was the one where the ignorant little school girl was drowned by glue from her own glue canister!

As it happens I would be happy to execute your friend for you however I cannot accept your apology and therefore must refuse your offer. You see, it violates my strict principle of never replying to correspondence - digital or otherwise - that I do not explicitly solicit myself before I have knowledge of the information existing. I once refused to reply to a letter from my mother in the mental hospital. It was the first one she had written in twenty some odd years! She was never the same after being stared at by that dastardly Polish street-sweep. But I simply had not given prior consent to being sent the letter and as you know Professor Li, rules are rules. You wouldn't be running a joint bank/murder venture if you went around breaking all the rules, and neither will I.

I do have a compromise for you; I will go ahead and provide the information you requested. I will turn down your initial offer, then I will formally extend an invitation for you to make a wholly-consented-to solicitation within one week. I cannot guarantee its outcome.

1. Full names - Michael Jeffrey Jordan, Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer. Granted these are not the two best full names, but you get what you pay for Sen. Li and if you wrote expecting an Anthony Michael Hall you have barked up the wrong email address.

2. Private phone number - 312-255-4460 - This phone number will get you the privately-Michael-Jeffrey-Jordan-owned (or was that Jeffrey-Lionel-Dahmer) restaurant *Wave* located on Chicago's luxurious lake shore.

3. Current residential address - Main Street USA, brother. You will find more current residences located along American Main Streets than you will find on any Polish Pirogi Street.

I hope that helps Rev. Li. I look forward to your next solicited email. I hope my lack of execution did not cause great inconvenience. God Bless.

Love,
Bub

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An Appointment with Fate (or, A Good Doctor is Hard to Find)

By Bub

The good Doctor had fallen on hard times. His scalpels weren’t as sharp as they used to be. His tongue-depressors now came from the fifth best merchant of depressors tongue and the like, instead of the third. That little shelf that you pull out on the Doctor’s examination bed wont push back in. He had recently seen a man with dropsy of the liver, and all he could do was sigh and brush the patient’s cheek with a cottonseed tail. He tried so very hard to lobby his way out of this funk. He took out advertisements on shop walls. He carved etchings into lavatory stalls. He wrote newspaper editorials for the Sunday Times. He dispatched several middle-sized marsupial creatures with violence. To no avail. That is, until one blustery summer’s eve.

After he got out of his funk that one blustery summer’s eve, the good Doctor took up the sport of pigeon-calling. He spent all of his mornings at the Royal Pigeon-Calling Yards in Northton. He became so entangled in his pigeon-calling pursuits that, on more than one occasion, he forgot to remove his pigeon-calling gloves when he greeted his first patient of the day. Now, at the time this was perfectly acceptable especially if the patient’s family was of higher moral stature than the good Doctor’s, but years later it became a popular insult and the good Doctor felt retroactively mortified. At present however, the good Doctor just forced a smile through the aching loneliness he felt in his throat

Before going to bed each night the good Doctor would swallow a tablespoon of corn flour. This served no medical purpose; he was simply taken with the taste. But as it turns out, once word of this sort of thing gets around, it can make a man many political enemies. And one St. Vincent’s Day at market, the good Doctor let it slip as to why a simple Welsh Doctor made regular purchase of barrel quantity corn flour. He did not know it, but it was the beginning of the end; the end of his days of buying corn flour discreetly and without others knowing the purpose for which the flour was being bought.

The day IT happened, the good Doctor stood in front of a restaurant vent in the Polish Quarter. He came down here in the evenings to enjoy the scent of pierogies and the feeling of racial superiority. A Pole ship-crewman approached. Saying nothing, he reached inside his satchel and retrieved a copy of Le Monde. The Pole held the news straight in front of the good Doctor’s face so that he was sure to get a good look. “Qu'ils Mangent de la Brioche” read the banner headline – Let them eat egg bread! The Pole tore the paper in two down the middle and threw the newspaper refuse with disdain into the air. The two men stared at each other with a sense of knowing and purpose as newspaper confetti rained down upon them. They were comrades now. The war had begun...

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