The Capital Times
Volume 4, Issue 3
Interview with the Vampire
The hinges creaked as the door opened onto the bare room of the abandoned two-story walk-up in the old French quarter of New Orleans. The sun outside had set an hour earlier, and the room was lit only by the dim, flickering light of a single, naked bulb, suspended on a chain from a nicotine-stained ceiling. The paint on the walls was peeling – somehow befitting of the single wooden table, marred by cigarette burns and spilled whiskey, flanked by two wooden chairs.
I gulped. This was where I was to meet the vampire, known simply as ‘r0x0rs’?
Taking my seat at the table, I rifled through my notes and wondered for the hundredth time why I hadn’t just taken my old man’s advice and become a dentist.
A few minutes later I heard the gentle fall of a footstep at the threshold of the open door behind me – the only way in or out of the room. Heart racing, I turned to see…nothing. Whirling around again, I let out a manly shriek as I beheld the outlined silhouette of a tall, horned creature, somehow now sitting across the table, its blazing eyes boring through me. Serpent-like tentacles writhed behind the creature as its barrel-chested torso heaved and pulsated, its blackened skin glistening like wet leather. r0x0r!!
A moment later, as my watering eyes adjusted to the dim light, I suddenly found myself looking at the spikey blond hair of a young, and very yellow, young man with only 4-fingers on each hand.
“Jesus Christ, Pwned, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Well, this was my only multi, and I rarely use it.”
Needing a few moments to collect my dignity, I swallowed hard and took a few moments to rifle through my notes again before eventually asking, “Okay, what are we doing here?”
Pwned smiled, sensing my unease. “I’m guessing people are talking?” he began.
“Safe to say,” I agreed.
“Want to know what we did? When, why…and howww?” he said, leaning across the table. It wasn’t so much a question as an accusation.
“You know they do.”
“Well then. We mustn’t keep the good dots of Dotlandia waiting, must me? But before I tell you, you must do something for me,” he hissed. “Quid pro quo, Ravenwood. Quid pro quo. I tell you things. You tell me things.”
“Stop screwing around, Pwned. This is ‘Interview with the Vampire’. Not ‘Silence of the Lambs’. Write your own damned story if you want.”
“Oh fine,” Pwned sighed. “Shall we start at the beginning then? I find it fair to give some kind of explanation or to help give an understanding of what was happening; how insanely easy it was to do.
“With that said, here is the long story split up into points, and this account will get banned, so get at me on Discord if you have any questions.”
I looked up from my notepad, pen poised mid-air, ready to begin scribbling.
“I am a huge piece of shit.”
Pregnant pause.
“Go on…”
“It did bother me,” he confessed, “greatly. And was a weighing factor into me leaving GLB because, for one, it took ALL the fun out of it for me, and two, it was insanely unfair, most specifically what was happening in the later portion of the scandal.” He stopped. I could see the perspiration on his yellow, cartoon brow beginning to bead. The confession – this…mea culpa of sorts… was clearly not easy for him.
HOW IT WORKS AND HOW IT STARTED
Mopping his brow with a soiled handkerchief he produced from a pocket, he continued. “On any area of this site where you have XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX you could XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. This worked on XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX and it all started with XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. So, in theory, you could XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX.
“We began using this exploit to fix fucked up builds, or to XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. Once we figured out exactly how it worked, we moved on to XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. At that point, XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX, probably shortly before or after the dominating run began.”
He paused to take a sip from a glass of water I hadn’t noticed before.
“To be fair and completely transparent…”
“By all means…”
“…we were really close to breaking through and being dominant BEFORE we did any XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. But it 100% was the reason the pure domination began.”
He paused to take another sip while I raced to record what I was hearing. My jaw was slack at what I’d just heard.
“With that said,” he went on, “PJ did spend a fuck load of time figuring out defense AI's, etc. We worked hard, it definitely didn't take that out of the game for us. But our dots were impossible to beat at that point.”
My pen paused for a moment as I thought to myself, ‘But…Pwned, your dots were still pretty shitty.’
“And for those of you thinking: Pwned, your dots were still pretty shitty…” – I looked sheepishly at the ceiling – “Yeah, they were. I was very reluctant to utterly abuse this exploit, so my dots were typically just in line with the best dots in the game,” he said, modestly. “I do believe some of my dots were super exploited,” he went on. “Once I had quit, I shared my password. But I don't mean to pass any blame at all, I was 100% involved, and am a grown ass man who makes my own decisions.”
He could tell I was skeptical, so he went on: “Look, there were newer iterations of this exploit that happened after my departure, and I don't say that for any other reason than to say that I have no clue how to do those, but they are probably similar.
“With all that said,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, “I am guilty, an asshole, selfish, etc.”
“People don’t say that about you, as far as you know.”
“While my word lacks credibility,” he continued, “I still challenge the lot of you to really look around because, as easy as this XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX, I have REAL FUCKING DOUBTS that we are the only people to ever do it.” At this point, he leaned forward in his chair again and fixed me with a piercing stare. “And if done how we were doing it in the beginning,” he whispered, “we would have NEVER been caught.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“I'll leave you with that,” he said, sitting back again and looking around the room. “I don't mean to stir the pot,” he went on, and I thought to myself, the pot isn’t just stirred – it’s been liquified with a hand blender, “So I’ll just say that I wish that these things can be fixed and Bort can shore up those issues so the lot of you can continue enjoying this (once to me) super fun browser game.”
He sighed, and for a moment, I felt sorry for him. This former agent who was once an active and respected member of the dotball community, who participated in forum chatter and who prepared elaborate preseason predictions and rankings. This once gifted coordinator who, at some undefined moment in the murky past, succumbed to the lure of an easy gif trophy. This…Icarus.
A few quiet moments passed as I struggled with my thoughts, still trying to make sense of it all. After a time, perhaps sensing he’d said everything he’d come to say, he glanced over my shoulder at the door behind me. “What’s that?” he asked.
“What?” I said, turning to follow his gaze. But there was nothing. When I turned back, he was gone. Just an empty chair. Heck, even the glass of water had vanished.
Looking around the now suddenly very quiet and very empty room, I began to feel my skin crawl. Rifling my notes for the last time, I collected them and stuffed them into my jacket before retreating out the door and down the stairs into the night.
Outside, a light rain had begun to fall. “My readers aren’t going to believe this,” I thought as I raced through the slick, darkened streets. “Assuming the censors don’t get their hands on it…”
For The Capital Times, this is Ravenwood, signing off.
Volume 4, Issue 3
Interview with the Vampire
The hinges creaked as the door opened onto the bare room of the abandoned two-story walk-up in the old French quarter of New Orleans. The sun outside had set an hour earlier, and the room was lit only by the dim, flickering light of a single, naked bulb, suspended on a chain from a nicotine-stained ceiling. The paint on the walls was peeling – somehow befitting of the single wooden table, marred by cigarette burns and spilled whiskey, flanked by two wooden chairs.
I gulped. This was where I was to meet the vampire, known simply as ‘r0x0rs’?
Taking my seat at the table, I rifled through my notes and wondered for the hundredth time why I hadn’t just taken my old man’s advice and become a dentist.
A few minutes later I heard the gentle fall of a footstep at the threshold of the open door behind me – the only way in or out of the room. Heart racing, I turned to see…nothing. Whirling around again, I let out a manly shriek as I beheld the outlined silhouette of a tall, horned creature, somehow now sitting across the table, its blazing eyes boring through me. Serpent-like tentacles writhed behind the creature as its barrel-chested torso heaved and pulsated, its blackened skin glistening like wet leather. r0x0r!!
A moment later, as my watering eyes adjusted to the dim light, I suddenly found myself looking at the spikey blond hair of a young, and very yellow, young man with only 4-fingers on each hand.
“Jesus Christ, Pwned, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Well, this was my only multi, and I rarely use it.”
Needing a few moments to collect my dignity, I swallowed hard and took a few moments to rifle through my notes again before eventually asking, “Okay, what are we doing here?”
Pwned smiled, sensing my unease. “I’m guessing people are talking?” he began.
“Safe to say,” I agreed.
“Want to know what we did? When, why…and howww?” he said, leaning across the table. It wasn’t so much a question as an accusation.
“You know they do.”
“Well then. We mustn’t keep the good dots of Dotlandia waiting, must me? But before I tell you, you must do something for me,” he hissed. “Quid pro quo, Ravenwood. Quid pro quo. I tell you things. You tell me things.”
“Stop screwing around, Pwned. This is ‘Interview with the Vampire’. Not ‘Silence of the Lambs’. Write your own damned story if you want.”
“Oh fine,” Pwned sighed. “Shall we start at the beginning then? I find it fair to give some kind of explanation or to help give an understanding of what was happening; how insanely easy it was to do.
“With that said, here is the long story split up into points, and this account will get banned, so get at me on Discord if you have any questions.”
I looked up from my notepad, pen poised mid-air, ready to begin scribbling.
“I am a huge piece of shit.”
Pregnant pause.
“Go on…”
“It did bother me,” he confessed, “greatly. And was a weighing factor into me leaving GLB because, for one, it took ALL the fun out of it for me, and two, it was insanely unfair, most specifically what was happening in the later portion of the scandal.” He stopped. I could see the perspiration on his yellow, cartoon brow beginning to bead. The confession – this…mea culpa of sorts… was clearly not easy for him.
HOW IT WORKS AND HOW IT STARTED
Mopping his brow with a soiled handkerchief he produced from a pocket, he continued. “On any area of this site where you have XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX you could XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. This worked on XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX and it all started with XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. So, in theory, you could XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX.
“We began using this exploit to fix fucked up builds, or to XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. Once we figured out exactly how it worked, we moved on to XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. At that point, XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX, probably shortly before or after the dominating run began.”
He paused to take a sip from a glass of water I hadn’t noticed before.
“To be fair and completely transparent…”
“By all means…”
“…we were really close to breaking through and being dominant BEFORE we did any XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX. But it 100% was the reason the pure domination began.”
He paused to take another sip while I raced to record what I was hearing. My jaw was slack at what I’d just heard.
“With that said,” he went on, “PJ did spend a fuck load of time figuring out defense AI's, etc. We worked hard, it definitely didn't take that out of the game for us. But our dots were impossible to beat at that point.”
My pen paused for a moment as I thought to myself, ‘But…Pwned, your dots were still pretty shitty.’
“And for those of you thinking: Pwned, your dots were still pretty shitty…” – I looked sheepishly at the ceiling – “Yeah, they were. I was very reluctant to utterly abuse this exploit, so my dots were typically just in line with the best dots in the game,” he said, modestly. “I do believe some of my dots were super exploited,” he went on. “Once I had quit, I shared my password. But I don't mean to pass any blame at all, I was 100% involved, and am a grown ass man who makes my own decisions.”
He could tell I was skeptical, so he went on: “Look, there were newer iterations of this exploit that happened after my departure, and I don't say that for any other reason than to say that I have no clue how to do those, but they are probably similar.
“With all that said,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, “I am guilty, an asshole, selfish, etc.”
“People don’t say that about you, as far as you know.”
“While my word lacks credibility,” he continued, “I still challenge the lot of you to really look around because, as easy as this XXXXXXX – REDACTED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE – XXXXXXX, I have REAL FUCKING DOUBTS that we are the only people to ever do it.” At this point, he leaned forward in his chair again and fixed me with a piercing stare. “And if done how we were doing it in the beginning,” he whispered, “we would have NEVER been caught.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“I'll leave you with that,” he said, sitting back again and looking around the room. “I don't mean to stir the pot,” he went on, and I thought to myself, the pot isn’t just stirred – it’s been liquified with a hand blender, “So I’ll just say that I wish that these things can be fixed and Bort can shore up those issues so the lot of you can continue enjoying this (once to me) super fun browser game.”
He sighed, and for a moment, I felt sorry for him. This former agent who was once an active and respected member of the dotball community, who participated in forum chatter and who prepared elaborate preseason predictions and rankings. This once gifted coordinator who, at some undefined moment in the murky past, succumbed to the lure of an easy gif trophy. This…Icarus.
A few quiet moments passed as I struggled with my thoughts, still trying to make sense of it all. After a time, perhaps sensing he’d said everything he’d come to say, he glanced over my shoulder at the door behind me. “What’s that?” he asked.
“What?” I said, turning to follow his gaze. But there was nothing. When I turned back, he was gone. Just an empty chair. Heck, even the glass of water had vanished.
Looking around the now suddenly very quiet and very empty room, I began to feel my skin crawl. Rifling my notes for the last time, I collected them and stuffed them into my jacket before retreating out the door and down the stairs into the night.
Outside, a light rain had begun to fall. “My readers aren’t going to believe this,” I thought as I raced through the slick, darkened streets. “Assuming the censors don’t get their hands on it…”
For The Capital Times, this is Ravenwood, signing off.
4 fingers only multi and rarely used. too funny
