The Fortune Cookie Writer by Robert W. Williams - HTML preview

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Chapter Thirteen

Eventually Peter created for himself a brand new avatar complete with a hijacked photo, family photos replete with many grandchildren, and an ironclad phony description that lured in friends from all walks of life.

He’d become a grandmother, a likeable woman, aged sixty-five, recently retired from the Ohio school system which had formerly employed [her], and he was poised and ready for action. All his new friends welcomed [her] to Facebook and gave [her] friendly tips and clues as to how to navigate the cyber universe. Then, like any good Facebook troll might, Peter rudely sat back and watched their activities without posting.

After a few days of waiting, he began liking a few posts and people found it cute that [she] was finally joining in.

Then he tossed in a few comments here and there for good measure, if not just to establish his presence. Then, after posting a few photos of his recently adopted, faux grandchildren, he shared a quiz, and like any dastardly fisherman, he waited patiently for someone out there to come along and take the bait.

 Which one of the Olsen Twins are YOU! Mary- kate or Ashley?

Hehehe.

Then he waited a bit longer.

His quiz result told the world that Agatha, his gentle avatar, the blue-haired grandmother he was portraying, was: Ashley, the preppy blonde and stylish, out-about-town Olsen twin.

He waited to see what answer the others might get.

However, as per fucking usual, they each received the exact same answer: Everyone was Ashley Olsen.

 Why the fuck wasn’t anyone Mary-kate?

The question not only began to consume him, but pissed him off to no end.

“It’s always like this.” Peter was scratching away at his scraggily beard, “Do you know why nobody is ever Mary-kate? Because the fucktard that generated that quiz didn’t establish proper parameters that would eventually lead equally to one of two results.

“That mentally deficient quiz maker had failed to delineate each possible outcome based on opposing responses, so, everyone ends up in the same percentile and winds up being Ashly fucking Olsen, that’s why!”

Peter was becoming infuriated, but simultaneously, he was slowly edging towards joining the ranks of the quiz takers.

He soon found himself aiming that white hot glare of his at the quiz makers instead of the takers as had been his proclivity.

He then decided to do a little investigating.

As it turned out, the Olsen quiz had been generated by a glitter-faced, post-adolescent blogger named Allison, and her website was actually listed on the quiz!

Holy mother fuckers getting rammed by fucking truckers! He went right for the proverbial throat.

Now remember, he is approaching the young woman in avatar form, disguised as 65 year old Agatha.

“Dear Allison, let me ask you something sweetheart; were your parents fucktards too, or did you develop your particular skillset autonomously? I took your quiz, you dimwit-in-a-training-bra, and it sucked. NOT EVERYONE CAN BE AHSLEY OLSEN! My four year old grandson, bless his little heart, could have generated a better quiz, you carrot poker!”

Allison’s response was even better, “You know, you look like a sweet, older lady in your photo, but you are most certainly not. That quiz is for fun. I didn’t even get paid to do it. Grow up.”

Grow up? Peter, under the disguise of Agatha or not, was not going to take that sort of abuse from some college freshman who liked to blog about hairclips, of all things.

So what did he do?

Peter went online, as Agatha, and smeared Allison’s pretty little, glitter covered name all over [her] page in front of all of [her] friends.

That’s right.

In the best old lady lingo he could muster up and articulate, he royally smacked that Keisha-loving, little sparkly Pop-tart down.

Having Agatha on his side made him feel like the operator of a remote controlled robot of destruction!

After only three short months, he’d already acquired seven hundred and thirteen new friends, posing as a grandmother, but what he did not know was that four hundred and thirty-seven of them were actually fakebook accounts as well.

That’s right: Fake accounts.

They had all been created by the time travel company in the future.

But why?

And how?

The people at the time travel company in the future created them using tachyon particles so potential time travelers could monitor Peter’s antics from beyond our present dimension, that’s how and why.

But wait… Why?