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From: israel@qantel.UUCP ( Renegade)
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: True Grit Mysteries II - Part 2
Message-ID: <191@qantel.UUCP>
Date: Tue, 28-Aug-84 11:45:30 EDT
Article-I.D.: qantel.191
Posted: Tue Aug 28 11:45:30 1984
Date-Received: Thu, 30-Aug-84 12:22:12 EDT
Organization: MDS Qantel, Hayward CA.
Lines: 64

< And now it's time for another special feature...>

TALES OF ROGER GUTS, PI

   After 3 hours in line, I managed to make it to the receptionist's desk.
She looked about 20, and came off as some kind of snotty little work-study
political science major. "Yes?", she queried.
   "Hi, Toots. Father Andrews over at ROTC sent me over here to fill out
some employment applications on some, uh, security advising to the university."
   "Oh, I'm sorry - you want the personnel office, up on the top floor. We
don't do that stuff here..."
   My Uzi was aimed right between her nipples, and I had on my best
`I'm going to rip your lungs out' face.
   "...but I suppose in this case we can make an exception. Why don't you
just write down your name, occupation, date of hire, and, what the hell,
anything else you like, on this memo pad, and I'll see this all gets processed
for you personally, okay dokey?"
   Ten minutes later, I was heading out to Sproul Plaza, on my way to Chuck's
office. As I was walking past Sather Gate, I tripped over some wierdo lying
on the ground wearing a red suit with white polka-dots and a gas mask. Then
some broad who looked liked she hadn't changed her clothes in 20 years
blew soap bubbles in my face. Then some guy wearing a red beret handed me
a poster about the `Communist Youth Brigade'. What was in the water around
here, anyway? It was going to be tough to crack this case if these are
examples of the kind of contacts I'll be making.
   I made it to Chuck's office. Someone had spray-painted "U.S. out of
North America" on the door. I was so disgusted, I threw up all over some 98
pound weakling who was just coming out the door.
   "Hey, what's the big idea? This uniform is brand new!", he squeaked.
   He was wearing an Army ROTC uniform, a Sony walkman, sunglasses, a
calculator pouch, and an "I Love Docter Who" button.
   "Wait a minute, you're not telling me you're one of Andrew's latest
recruits, are ya?"
   "Lt. Specky Schroeder, at your service, sir."
   I threw up all over him again.
   As I walked into the office, Chuck was pouring over a massive computer
printout which completely covered his desk.
   "Ah, Guts, just in time." He motioned me to sit beside him. "I was just
going over the log entry file for our computer. According to this,
the illegal file taps were done using the system supervisor password."
   "Hey, great, then we've already got our man. Just haul this supervisor
twerp in here, and we'll work him over til he..."
   "It's not that simple, Guts. All we know is that the supervisor's password
was used, but not necessarily by the supervisor. Someone must have figured
out the code, and used it to log on to the computer."
   "Great, then haul this computer in here, and we'll work IT over til it..."
   "Serious up, Guts! Now I've got a recruit who's an expert with computers.
He can set up an electronic trap to signal us the next time the files are
accessed, and where the account funds are being transferred to. From there
we should be able to track down who's doing it all."
   "And then do we get to work him over?"
   "Roger, Roger!"
   "Great! So who's this expert of yours?"
   "He's an EECS major in the college of engineering. Name's Schroeder."
   I reached for the waste-basket...

        TO BE CONTINUED 

-- 
Renegade of Berkeley
MDS Qantel
ucbvax!dual!qantel!israel

Disclaimer: "Who me? I wasn't even there!"