Oh, The Mystery

It was one o’clock in the morning and I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised that I was very awake, vaguely alert, and only halfway through my to-do list. I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have started my night by re-watching the second season of the OC. That probably wasn’t going to help me in my Literature of Icelandic Societies class, for which I still had to concoct an eight page paper for.
Yeah, I probably should have started with the paper.
And not the OC.
Or the two hours of Farmville …
Going on three.
Oi, I really should have put procrastination on my to-do list because then I would be crossing things off like a boss. I wanted to do well in my class, but my lima beans were getting soggy and my cows needed to be brushed. I couldn’t let my cows go un-brushed, could I?!
I tended the last of my crops and peaced out of Farmville. I had to write this paper!
I opened a blank document and put on my glasses (because obviously if I look smarter, my papers will sound better). Just as my index finger hit the first key, my phone rang. A TEXT MESSAGE!
Well, I had to look at it; a sensible girl knows that curiosity killed that cat as well as her will to work. So I couldn’t just sit there wondering!
Oh, huh, it was a text from a number I had never seen before! “Creepy things.” That’s all it said! I figured it had to be from someone I knew on campus. So I texted back, “Creepier things!”
The moment the text sent, I felt as though I had opened Pandora’s box. My phone was convulsing with text messages from multiple numbers that I had never seen before:
“this is a super creepy message for christine” … I was confused. My name was definitely Christina, with an “a,” right? RIGHT?!
“Christina, don’t look in the closet. Its not safe tonight.” ... I looked up and my closet was wide open, revealing nothing but a few sequined dresses and a fur coat (don’t judge, I promise that someday when I marry rich all of my wardrobe decisions will finally make sense). Oooh. Scary.
“mmm … im waiting” … For what?! An apostrophe between your “I” and “m?” Listen buster, only you can prevent bad grammar.
“U should really close ur windows its dangerous” … Now I was getting kind of perturbed. My window was closed with the blinds shut. And why would it be dangerous? If anyone tried to climb through my window, they would immediately be sucked into the abyss that is my laundry pile. The chance of survival is minimal, so yeah, I guess it would be dangerous, but not for me!
“ill see you soon – the devil” … I wasn’t aware that the devil had a South Carolina area code! But he’ll see me soon, eh? Did I say yes to a date that I shouldn’t have?
I imagined someone on campus going to a study group and giving everyone my number to pass the time by creeping me out and seeing what kind of pathetic response I could render. I hoped it wasn’t a malicious thing because I saw Carrie and I know what bullying does to people.
And then that familiar “POP” came from my computer.
“You’ve been mystery googled!” my friend wrote,
I had had enough of stupid messages that night, but at least I knew who he was.
“What in the name of all things Blondie is mystery googled?” I typed back, hoping this wasn’t actually going to turn into a Scream situation.
My dear friend went on to explain that he had gone onto the website, mysterygoogle.com and typed in “Text creepy things to Christina at (240) 555 – 6789.” With mysterygoogle.com, when you search you get results for the last thing that whoever was on the site searched for. Like, if I search for “How to Disapparate like Harry Potter,” then my results could be anything from “oranges” to “World’s Best Booger Stories.” It just depends on what the last person searched for. Apparently, when my friend typed his little request into mystery google, a bunch of people got it as their result.
Cute.
I have to admit, I was half furious and half impressed. My mommy always told me never to share vital information on the interweb, and I definitely do not need any more stalkers! Sheesh. But using the internet to confuse the (excuse my French) poo out of your friends? That, I’m kind of okay with, somehow.
Besides, two can play that game!
So I went to mysterygoogle.com, thought hard for a moment, and then typed: “Experienced ninja looking for a new challenge: Opus Hall 620 Michigan Avenue NE, Washington D.C. Feel free to break windows!”
Funny, right? I figured some guy dressed all in black would burst into my friend’s room with nunchucks and scare the living daylights out of him. If I was lucky, he would scream like a girl and maybe pee in his pants. But I wasn’t going to get too greedy.
Well, nothing ever happens like you plan.
Not one, not two, but eight ninjas broke into my friend’s room. And one awkward pizza delivery guy, who seemed really confused. I’m not sure what was up with that.
Anyway, they ended up pinning my friend up to the wall with ninja stars and tickling him for a good two hours. I mean, he’s fine. Completely traumatized, but still breathing and talking (though in a weird accent now). I guess I feel a little guilty. A lot guilty. Pranks should never hurt people. Pranks should result in giggling and, if you’re feeling crazy, a good fart joke.
I’ve given up mystery google cold turkey. It’s too much power.
Just remember that the internet is a vast universe of attainable knowledge. And disgusting perverts. Don’t let the urge to make fun of your friends distract you from keeping your loved ones safe. Because some ninjas don’t just tickle.