That Moment I Tried To Sign Into Facebook From A Different Browser

I was dragged into an interrogation room blindfolded. I guess Facebook genius Mark Zuckerberg didn’t want me to know where the compound was. But I could smell as I was first dragged into the location that the flowers were nicely arranged.

However, I was dragged down to another Facebook level where the aroma of wealth deteriorated into a doom of despair. That’s right! I have the ability to smell despair, which meant that I had internal clues of what lay ahead for me in my very near future.

With a light shining in my eyes, they pulled off the blindfold. And there I was, sitting in a chair, looking at only the silhouettes of my abductors, “Who are you? Why are you trying to sign into Michael Allen’s account?”

“I am Michael Allen. I am him. He is me!”

“No. No. No. No. No,” one of the hidden voices snapped back, “Don’t be playing games with us, Mr. Sir. Who do you think you are?”

“I just said. That’s who I am.”

“Well, let me tell you something buddy. Facebook sent out an email and you didn’t respond to it,” the silhouette yelled back at me.

“Oh well, normally when I get those kinds of emails, they say not to worry if it was me,” I answered.

He banged on a table I could not see, “Well, we don’t! You have made a mistake thinking we are just like any other internet site out there.”

“Don’t make mistakes like that,” another silhouette echoed.

“No. You got us all wrong, Mr. Allen,” another unknown voice confirmed with a hint of sarcasm. Then, I heard laughing throughout the room.

“Do you really believe that a multibillion-dollar website like Facebook that has a third of the world trapped under its spell is going to just let it go,” the first unknown voice asked. “You have to confirm, which you didn’t. So, you are highly suspect!”

“But it’s okay for fake accounts to send me friend requests,” I asked humbly.

There was no answer from the darkness in front of me.

“It’s okay for someone to duplicate a friend’s account and send me a friend request,” I asked with the same humble tone.

Still no answer.

“What exactly did I do wrong,” I asked out of sheer curiosity.

“We have our ways. Trust me, we have our ways of knowing everything. You signed in from a different browser than you normally sign in from if it is in fact you. You who you say that you are.”

“But the browser is on the same laptop,” I retorted.

“Yeah uh,” he hemmed and hawed, “We saw that.”

“My same IP, same internet connection, same address,” I added.

“Uh, yeah,” more hemming and hawing from the man hiding himself behind the light, “That’s exactly what we’re talking about!”

I heard more pounding on the table. I rolled my eyes because I didn’t have the ability to do anything else. They had handcuffed me to the chair.

“When you do something like that, you have to let us know. There is no excuse for your failure to communicate,” I heard echo through my ears as I saw two silhouettes approach me.

They slathered ink on my hands and got fingerprints. Then, they took a picture of my face from three different angles. They made me speak into a microphone, “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.”

Again, “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.”

Again, “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.”

Then they stuck a tongue suppressor into my mouth, which I can only assume was to collect DNA. But there might have been a different reason because I started to lose consciousness.

I found myself on 34th and Twine missing a sandal. As I looked around trying to figure out where I was, I quickly learned they had taken my phone and my wallet. But had replaced them with identical duplicates. Now, they knew everything about me and I wondered how much longer they were going to own me.

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