This story is (mostly) fiction. But it’s quite entertaining if you use your imagination. And who knows? It could have been true.
Continuing on from my previous post (which I last wrote two weeks ago… where have I been?), I was facing a showdown at Machu Picchu in Peru with a spammer that had tried to kill me a year earlier when I visited China, and had tried to kill me a couple of times already on the trip. We were standing toe to toe, noses inches away from each other. He was glaring at me, intending on taking me out (again). I was a little annoyed that he kicked my fingers.
“How did you find me?” I asked. I was actually curious how this douche bag managed to track me down again.
“Well, let me tell you,” he explained as a slow grin crept across his face. “I added your travel companion as a friend on Facebook. He had no idea who I was when I made a Friend request, but he added me anyways.” I rolled my eyes; that sounded like something my friend would do. “I then watched all of his Facebook status updates are where you were going to be located at any given time! Ha, ha, ha!”
Something in this did not add up. “But how did you even know we were friends?”
“You two stopped at a hostel on your first day, in Peru. This is South America, and keystroke loggers are a serious problem down here.” I thought back to the Microsoft Security and Intelligence Report, version 7, of which I am credited as an author. The number one piece of malware in Brazil in 1H2008 was the Bancos worm, which is a keystroke logger and password stealer. “He logged into his account on an infected machine, sent a bunch of emails that mentioned your name, I stole his credentials and I was able to put the pieces together!”
What the heck? My name was mentioned and he connected all the dots (my friend probably mentioned things like “terry”,”zink”, “super”, “awesome”)? Was he intercepting all of my friend’s emails? Does this guy sub-contract out for the NSA? And why was I friends with a guy who was so security unconscious, was he secretly a member of my family? It was clear that as a hero in the anti-spam community, I was going to have to watch my back a bit closer… or have someone watch it for me.
“But enough of this!” he shouted. “Time for you to die!” He then took a swing at me with his right hand; I ducked. He swung with his left and I ducked again. He then threw out a jab straight at me and I dodged to the side. He did kind of a side kick and I jumped over it, landing square on my feet. I then counterattacked.
I then gave him a roundhouse kick to the head. Or, should I say, I tried to. You see, in October 2008 I had surgery to correct some torn cartilage and bone spurs in my left hip. The cartilage is fixed but I still have a slight bony protrusion on my hip bone, so I have bone rubbing up against bone in my left hip and when I move it in certain ways, it causes pain. This roundhouse kick that I attempted caused extreme pain due to the angle that I was rotating my leg. I felt it in my hip and the pain shot all the way down through my leg and up to my shoulders. I couldn’t finish the kick at all, it kind of died partway through and I caught the spammer in the side of the shoulder rather than a good boot to his noggin, and the impact wasn’t very hard at all. “Aargh,” I groaned as I pulled my leg down and put my hand on my hip (inside of my hip) and closed my eyes for a split-second.
Unfortunately, that was all the time that the spammer needed. Now, as an anti-spammer, when I get into a battle with my mortal nemeses, I gain the ability to fight like the characters from Street Fighter II. Yet somehow, this spammer also gained these abilities as he started to fight like the character Zangief. Certainly not the most playable character, but definitely my favorite because of all of his neat wrestling moves.
The spammer thrust his hand under my shoulder, lifted straight up and then slammed me down in a modified choke-slam hold (think of the Undertaker from WWE, except with the hand under my shoulder and not my throat). I hit the ground with a thud, landing on the upper part of my back and I rolled a bit. I grunted when I hit the ground, wondering where he learned that move. At this point I was starting to get angry. I got up quickly and turned to face him, but as I did he hit me with a spinning clothesline! I flew backwards again and banged my head against the ground. I wondered if I had a concussion because that hurt and I got a little dazed. For a split second, I literally saw stars in front of my eyes and temporarily lost my vision.
I realized that I was going to have to bring out some of the big guns. I recalled back to the previous year when my Street Fighter II skills saved me from this guy. I did a backwards somersault, rolling onto my feet and shouted “Ha-do-ken!” and thrust my hands forward. I didn’t realize that he was so close to me when I did that, he had been closing in on me while I lay on the ground for the split second that I did. However, a fireball erupted from my hands and moved towards him at a rapid speed (I used the strong punch when I did this). It whirled towards him but just it would have connected, he did another spinning clothesline and the fireball passed right through him, doing no damage! “Oh, not good,” I said.
He was close enough to me now, and the fact that I was slightly taken aback didn’t help matters much. He grabbed onto my hands and yanked me close into him. “Want to know where I learned these moves?” he shouted.
“Not really,” I replied quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
He grunted a breath of hot air into my face. “I trained all year!” he shouted. “I learned from our last battle!” What a ironic coincidence, I thought. I had made no attempt to improve my skillz since the last time we met. At this point, he took me, somehow flipped me upside down and jumped high into the air and rotating as he did so.
Uh-oh, I thought, this is a spinning pile driver. If he connected with this, I would be in a serious world of hurt and he would be able to finish me off with relative ease. Yet I saw no way out of the move.
Would this be the end of me?