I don't know, but I may have just stumbled into the a current day reincarnate of a 1963 movie version of a mad mad mad mad scammer.
It all started when I received the following email that appeared to be sent by one person, but concluded in the name of another person. The email was addressed from a Mr. Nobert Stevens, but that ain't who concluded it:
I have a discussion with you which will be of benefit to the poor, the sick, orphans, victims of war and natural disaster...
Reply for more details.
As you've come to expect from my low-class self, I took no time whatever in editing this brief missive and dispatching it back to sender and 50 plus of his/her/its colleagues:
Sent: Sunday, January 20, 2013 2:21 PM
Subject: DID YOU RECEIVE MY PREVIOUS ENEMA???
I wishes to have speaks with you in order to have a discussion with you -- one sometimes follows the other, you unnerstand -- which will be of benefit to the poor, the sick, orphans, victims of war, natural disaster, bad bikini waxes, misplaced catheters and those who learned the hard way to wear a cup in the presence of cats...
This discussion will probably not have anything to do with charity, heart, compassion, and cockleburr enemas. Well, maybe the latterest of the latter.
Reply for more details.
As frequently seems to happen, the email recipient (gawd knows what her colleagues thought) failed to read what I dun to her email; she was just pickled tink that I answered it, as a snippet of her response reveals:
May the good God bless you as you read this mail to hear my cry. I have chosen to carry out this mission just because the Almighty has called me to do so, which the voice of the Almighty is the final in a man’s life. Please join me my friend to carry out the wish of the almighty to help the children of the world. Right now, I have been diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer, which It has defiled all forms of medical treatment, and I have only about a few months to live, according to medical experts. I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone (not even myself) but my business. Though I am very rich, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for not even my family, until I lost them to the war in Iraq. As I am a British orphan who was married to an Iraqi man. But now I regret all my past mistakes.
I wonder if one of those regrets was not having obtained a better grammar checker...
So...'Nobert Stevens/Fatima Ahmed' now seeks me to be her great earthly 'soul saver'.
That uncontrollable bout of laughter-tinged coughing was me.
So, I donned my "Ben Dover" persona, and sent to her my personal informations and address via which I can be reached. Which, when she's ready to reach me, will come in the form of her attorney -- remember, she's dyin' h'yar -- who will have papers for me to obtain in order to execute the attorney's clientele 'last wishes'.
Of course, my persona -- Ben -- will endeavor to execute Nobert Stevens/Fatima Achmed's last earthly soul-saving instructions with the precision and smooth manure that has marked 'Ben' in all of his dealings with persons from the mad mad mad mad world of scams. Upendingly.
And naturally, 'Ben' will be ever so mindful of what he's doing to help the transition of a soul needing saved before transition from sh**bird to sh**spirit:
Yup...that'll be Ben, helping to 'upend' Nobert/Fatima.
Of course, this mad mad mad mad scam of theirs won't get very far past the attorney and Ben's initial dealings, since the attorney will want money up front, and Ben will be oh so accommodating in not being so accommodating:
Which will have the effect of making everyone on Nobert/Fatima's side of the ocean an understandably tweaky about how Ben is doing things; Ben will be taking his sweet time about caring out the 'rat killing' of the deal (aka, wiring the attorney the money), and the attorney will be trying to light a fire under Ben to get it done:
And Ben will be extinguishing that fire with all the blissful innocence of two yutzes behind the stick of an out-of-control airplane:
Of course, to assauge their growing butt hurts over progress, Ben will assure them that everything is under control and proceeding in a manure that is inevitable in such situations:
Which should be shortly before Nobert/Fatima and his/her/its attorney finally figure out that their dreams of achieving illicit ends are about to go the way of the wind:
At which point they'll quit communicating with Ben, and probably throw themselves into some kind of appropriate snit over having become the mugu, instead of taking one:
Or, we'll carry on a round-robin conversation that manages to go nowhere for a spell, 'cuz they REALLY want whatever money they can get out of 'Ben'.
So however it plays, you can rest assured that Ben will be in control:
Until out of control is called for.
If there's an update that goes beyond the already mad mad mad mad nature of this scam...I'll let you know.