What a funny letter I got on my email@example.com account and yes I check it. At first, I'm thinking, Oh oh, the name on this letter has a familiar ring to it. I opened it up and it's one of those scams to try to sucker you out of cash etc. What a relief it wasn't the brother of the guy I was making fun of with the bad breath who flew with me last week. Well I was a little bored and ordered up a patrol of four M-1's Tanks and a squad of Marines to go claim my 10.5 million dollars that this future MAMS is hiding in Asia or his house. Boy you should have seen the looks of all the people along the streets as we rolled down Asi Salman street right up to number 24A Idrisa Rd. I jumped down off this tank and ran up to the front door rapping on this giant knocker made out of an old mortar. (Clue something is amiss)
Me, "Hello, are you Aminu Ali Hassan?"
Huh? Me, the son of the traitor Chemical Ali? No I have never heard of him"
Looking down I notice a Fedex box from Jordan with Bio Chemical stickers all over it.
Is that your box with the name Aminu Ali Hassan on it? Looking very incredulous (big word for a Marine) he cocks his head and says "no, not me, must be mistake, they drop off stuff to the wrong houses all the time here" Now he is very nervous as the turret on the tank start turning towards us. "I do not understand, why are you here sir?" I pull out my email shown below, "I'm here to collect my 10 million, or didn't you think about it when you sent it to a Marine whose stationed down the street?" My future business partner looks at the email and starts to frown as if he's seen this before, He calls to his son, Blah blah blah, I don't understand but I know that tone of a mad father. His son comes out and the father says. "you are not here for me, but my son, he is the guilty party. Ever since Saddam left, we have to put up with call waiting, cable t.v. and computers. My Son didn't mean anything by it, but I was starting to wonder how he bought that new BMW out there. Ah kids eh' they never change. "same with parents" I'm thinking.
The door to the office opens as I stare at my email and Sgt. Warren says "Hey Sir, are you ready to go to chow?" Back to reality from my Walter Mitty day dream. What a dream, 10 million… Anyway check the letter out below.
From Aminu Ali Hassan
No 24A Idrisa Road,
[I wish this guy lived here, I would go knock on his door]
Dear , Friend
[He failed out of English 101 with all the Football players from my old school.]
Wa-Salaam w'Ala ikum, walhamdililahi wabarakato, I hope you are in [Sounds greek to me] Peace of our dear Allah, May he Bless you abundantly.? .
I am Aminu Ali Hassan, the only child and the only son to Late Haji Abdul Hassan, well known as chief protocal officer to Ali Hasan Al-Majid "Chemical Ali". I [no spell checker on his computer] am 25 years old. My late parents were killed during the U.S air raid in bagdad early 2003.My late fathe was well trusted by Hassan Al-majid, [can't even spell Baghdad, my first clue about the guy who wrote this]
Before my father died, he deposited the sum of US$ 10.5 Million in the [10 million, man I could buy the whole country of Somalia with that.] vault of a security/finance company in Asia. Immediately I found you in [See I told you the bad guys read these posts, see how he found me???]
internet I felt you can be of help to me. That's why I am sending you [Of course the Marines would love to help you out…] this email. I need someone who has the capacity to receive such huge [I think the IRS would have something to say about large sums showing up] amount of money in his account and I am willing to give up some reasonable part of the total amount to you. I want to set up some business investment with this money outside Iraq and for this reason, I lok forward to further cooperation from you and will be grateful [Spelling is kicking his butt...see he's a roadie needing more money for the next grateful dead show] for your immediate response Please send your reply to my private e-mail [sorry Eminu, I don't reply to IamAnIdiot@yahool.com …]
Aminu Ali Hassan.