And I was mailing, and just about to send off the last peice of mail of the day, and I hear this voice whisper, "If you send it, he will come"
And I turn to the guy beside me and say, "Pardon?" and he says "What?" So I figure it must be my imagination.
Then I hear it again, "If you send it, he will come"
"That. Did you hear that?" I say
"What?" the other guy says.
AGAIN, I get this "If you send it he will come" just whispered in a hoarse voice.
And I realise that he's talking about the legendary fingerless Joe Hudsucker, kicked off the network for hitting return too many times in a mail message.
And I look at the window, and there's this mail message all lit up, and there's *nothing* in it, it's just blank lines, thousands and thousands of blank lines, like you get between the question and answer of one of those *really* slack jokes that dweebs post to rec.humor.get.fucked because they are sorta funny in a sick way.
And so I figure, what the hell, it's a wednesday afternoon, it's raining, I'm bored, it's two hours till knock-off time, I wonder how many times I *could* hit return between now and then. And so I start.
I get it done, and in the morning I get in and there's this guy at the console.
"Shit, I'd forgotten what it feels like to post crap to the net" he says
And it was him.
Fingerless Joe.
I had to go home, get the wife and kids, they'd read about him and would love to meet the guy; apparently some people said they heard he was posting to the net under an assumed name...
Three days later things were well, I was in a large padded room, and the guy who'd sat beside me was doing a late night caberet act under the name of Alex the wonder ventriloquist.
BASTARD!