Insider X by Dave Buschi Read Free Book Online Page B

taken the time to fully flesh out the fake profile, by adding other pictures with the same person, or posting comments, liking lots of stuff, using ‘Instagram’, tweeter feeds, yada yada yada, all the stuff needed to give the profile a veneer of credibility, then it was a wasted effort.  At least in her opinion.  At the bare minimum those fakers needed to bulk up their friend numbers before trolling for real people.
    Jeez.  They were morons.  Homer Simpsons.  (_8^(I)
    She’d look at their Facebook pages.  They usually would be blank or completely bare bones.  No pictures aside from the profile picture.  No family pictures, no friend pictures.  Nothing.  Just that one picture of them.  And maybe a few basic details.  School they attended.  Where they lived.  One or two things they liked.
    After that— nada, zilch, bupkis.   Ridiculous.  Na figured it was a low margin business, but still, they weren’t doing a very good job if they were trolling for identities to steal.  Go ahead, she wanted to tell them.  Steal Bubba!  He’s yours!  He has lots of money!!!
    And I’m Marge Simpson.  @@@@:-)
    With a mustache.  @@@@:-{)
    It didn’t take her long to see what was out there.  Yippee!  It was like one big fake family.  Obviously, she wasn’t the only one having fun with Facebook.  It almost made this job, which would be infinitely monotonous and boring, into one of the most fun jobs ever!
    Well…
    Not really.
    SAD.  (Q_Q)
    And tired.  (=_=)
    To tell the truth this job was worse than cramps.  All she had to do was look around where she worked, and it jolted her back to reality.  She felt like that song bird.  Trapped.  In a cage.  Unable to spread her wings.
    But…
    And this was the hopeful part… it had a tiny bit of potential.  If she wasn’t a worker bee; if she was running the show, then maybe this could be an okay business.  But she’d have to have her own rules, and they would be so much different.
    No shotgun specials.  They were just wrong in her opinion.  Unnecessary.
    She never liked doing those.  Bubba’s last post had fulfilled the last order from IDF.  They’d ordered two ‘shotgun specials’ today, which meant 50 good reviews on their stuff, and 200 bad reviews on the competition.  Since IDF was a company that specialized in gaming accessories and post-apocalyptic themed video games, Na had visited websites that catered to that crowd.  Sites like Game Zone.  She’d also left posts on user forums at Zombie Pit, GameSpot, and Joystiq.
    She’d kept most of them short and sweet, using various Feebies to log in, and sometimes adding a gamer handle.  Gamer handles, she’d noticed, were frequently used at gamer sites, and when in Rome, do what Rome-ies do (or whatever that phrase was supposed to be).  Anyway...
    “Sky Maiden”, Birdie Caldwell, gave her thoughts on a competitor’s product:
    This game is so bad, I’m not going to waste my sweet honey breath telling you how terrible it is.  Just take my word for it.  Save your money.  This game belongs in the loo-loo with the rest of you know what.
    So did Morris Brown, whose gamer’s handle was “EbonYWarrior”:
    The graphics were pretty weak, but the thing that really got me about this game was that it fritzed out on me halfway through.  I’d just gotten to the next level, and then my screen blinked and the game reset.  Don’t waste your money.  They need to get their SH%T together and fix this glitch before hawking it on the public.  There… I’ve dropped my KNOWLEDGE.  Use it or lose it.
    Na’s hands hurt from typing so much today.  And her bottom?  Don’t even get her started on that travesty.  Sitting on a metal foldup chair for 12 hours?!  If there was a hell, this was it.  She used to have a cute rounded bottom.  Now?  Now it was like a pancake.  Cow bottom.  Moo!
    She needed a hug.  (((H)))
    There.  All better.
    Na glanced over at Jing-Wei to see what she was writing.  She