Hype Williams – Untitled 5
My name is Eugene Sniddledrak, and I received your very good name from the classified ads posted on the Trustworthy Americans messageboard. I have decided to contact you based solely on the personal conviction of trust and confidence that we can co-operate and establish a lucrative business transaction which will surely not require my access to your checking account and routing/transit numbers.
On July 4th, 2010, Mr. John Abbey, an American oil contractor and corrections officer, was killed in a tragic automobile accident, even while fireworks fell on the Serengeti plains and everyone celebrated the Independence Anniversary of your country. Also unfortunately, his entire family was murdered in this accident as well, which was caused by a grossly negligent and intoxicated Tyrannosaurus Rex, who was piloting a Land Rover for which he was not licensed.
However, the silver lining on this cloud nine is that Mr. Abbey and his family had recently deposited well in excess of $8 Trillion USD cash, a few Picasso paintings, and several attractive and virginal members of your opposite sex into one of my bank’s safety deposit vaults. The problem that we are having is that Mr. Abbey seems to have no next of kin; ironically, he had inherited all of his possessions when a bus full of relatives on their way to a family reunion was sucked into a deep, yawning chasm, perhaps a gateway to the Land of the Lost(?), where myriad dinosaur-related deaths awaited them. The sum detailed above has remained unclaimed, and now is the part where you, my dear friend, MOTORBOATINSONUVABITCH@GMAIL.COM, come in.
The management of my bank, under the influence of our super-president and members of the board of emperors, has made an arrangement for the fund to be declared ‘SORT OF UNCLAIMABLE’, and subsequently commanded that Mr. Abbey’s account be turned over to the reserve office of the bank. It is against the background of the preceding text that two of my colleagues and I have decided to contact you, despite the prohibitive costs and life-endangering nature of electronic correspondence, for assistance and partnership, and for you to stand as the next of kin to Mr. Abbey. Surprisingly, our bank does not have need for identification forms, notarized certificates, or even familial resemblance in order to disburse such funds. We have taken care of everything: the Tyrannosaurus Rex has signed an affidavit claiming that you are the heir to Mr. Abbey’s fortune. You WILL, however, need to change your blood type to O-negative, for reasons which I cannot disclose herein. I am very skilled in home-surgery, and can assist you with this operation once you arrive.
Consequently, if you find this proposal agreeable, I expect your urgent response- upon receipt of that, we will discuss sharing ratios, exchange rates, and exit strategies for me and my colleagues. Please endeavor to include your phone number, private email, home address, mother and father’s phone numbers, credit card number (for security purposes), and those last three digits on the back of your credit card as well, just in case you fall into the wrong hands and we have to bail you out. Please keep this proposal VERY SECRET and CONFIDENTIAL. Please also do not let any of your friends in on the secret, especially those who might happen to be INTERPOL agents. It’ll be our special thing, okay?
Trustworthily and Integritally Yours,
P.S. Please also forward your checking account and routing number after all–one can’t be too careful. What if your plane is eaten by a carnivorous cloud? Who would kindly alert your next of kin and disburse your death-funds, if not us?
[the Hype Williams Untitled LP is sold out everywhere]