A bot bombed the scene. Dropping comments in comment sections. Saying “Look at me, I learned this lesson, now my funds have no recession.” Suspicious they were, as most would be. They rained upon it with mockery. Linking pics, memes of the season, poking jokes at “feeble” readers: “None have thread the spider’s web as adeptly as we three. The spam will offer hollow hopes, an hour for easy money. Promises snaring novices, obvious as trolling sprees. Let it lure them in, let them feel what its like be eaten.”
“How easily the victim’s blamed,” I thought as I watched them talk. As if they were gods of guile, never led on a walk by a weaves of code or a grand show. Be it here or far, someone’s charmed. It’s worked before, it’ll work some more. The Trojan horse of Troy rearranges the splinters of its mane, the colour of its hooves, engravings on its face. And searching new places, it lays the trap. Is welcomed in and sucks the sap.
But is this bot just typing a lie? Perhaps it’s a vision of life in that line of work. It might be spamming other sections, receiving comments from other jesters. How quick we are assume the worst. What if…. hmmm, you know what? I better stop. I think it’s working.
Human Wild Type 