On July 24, Treffer Versenkt received an email. It was from someone identified as rosebkdw719@gmail.com, although this was somewhat confusing, because also present was the name and address of one George Shagoury, of Ocean City, NJ.
Pasted into the body of the email was a PayPal receipt JPG which confirmed payment for an invoice for a “thing” that was bought.
Hi Treffer, it read,
This is the created invoice for the thing that was bought on 2025 24 Jul 08:21:07 / 4408050607989-
George Shagoury N8W27241 Woodridge Ln / Ocean City, NJ, 8226Payment Receipt 07/24/25 GRQ-52528500798058
“The thing” that was bought? From the Springfield Armory?
Oh, could it have been a gun? Treffer wondered. $699.99—”automatically withdrawn from” my account? Was the gun an automatic?
Treffer wondered why was this George Shagoury guy was tempting him to go shoot him? George Shagoury of Woodridge Ln, Ocean City, NJ, right? And what of this mysterious Rose? Rose719. Were there 718 Rose’s out there? And did this 719th Rose know how dangerous Treffer could be with “the thing" he purchased, according to the PayPal receipt?
And where was Area Code 703?
Area Code 703 was in northern Virginia, over 300 miles south of Ocean City, NJ. Area Code 703 might just as well as been Area 51. Treffer read the receipt for any helpful information and came across the support line.
“Support, my ass!” Treffer shouted. “I’ve had it with these thieves. No,” he continued, “this calls for the personal touch. Support in person. A pilgrimage through the scamscape!” He powered down his desktop, and shouted, “Road trip.”
He drove down to Ocean City, NJ. He took the turn onto Woodridge Ln. It was a cul-de-sac; even better, finding George was going to be easy, because there was only one house there.
He had “the thing,” an automatic, as it really turned out to be, at the ready. So when George opened the door, he blew his brains out. George was automatically debited, as Treffer’s account had been. Road trip became Road Kill.
His quest was a success. It was a victory. A pilgrimage for justice.
But it wasn’t over.
He called into the house. “Rose?” he screamed. “Rosebdkw719…at gmail.com?”
“Yes,” a middle-aged woman answered as she approached the door. Then she stopped suddenly, her face paling. She screamed when she saw her beloved George lying in a headless bloody heap on the floor of this Scamway franchise.
That’s when Treffer blew her brains out, too. Automatically, as it were.
Rose719 would be the last. There would be no Rose 720.
Then, instead of calling 9-1-1, he called the REFUND HELP LINE at 1-703-544-2008. (It was the same as the SUPPORT line, on the receipt.)
Nothing clears the plaque in the coronary arteries like acting on rage. Extra points for revenge. And in homage and a shout-out to Ignatius J. Reilly from Area Code 504, Treffer’s valve finally opened.
Then Treffer lifted his head from his desk, his daydream over. It was a good purgative. It was even a bit healing.
But instead of doing all those terrible things—the decapitating double-homicides—he hadn ‘t really gone anywhere. He filed his pilgrimage in his private, cerebral memory bin and merely deleted Rosebdkw719’s email.
It would have done no good to reply to it, pinging George and Rose back, that they had emailed a “live one” on their phishing line. And it would have been even more foolish to call the SUPPORT or REFUND HELP LINE to talk to the Nigerian prince who had been suddenly saddled with his near-death royal uncle’s millions of dollars that the prince needed to park somewhere in Treffer’s area code.
George lived, if he’ was ever real. Rose, too.
I wonder if Rose719 is hot, Treffer mused.
And his coronary plaque remained as well, building up as quickly as the accruing emails in his SPAM BIN.
The following Thursday, his gun from Springfield Armory arrived.
This was my submission to Scoot’s Gibberish Flash Fiction Friday, July 25, on the theme, “a character on a pilgrimage.”
A way to offer a one-time tip. Or not. (It’s not a scam. Shameless, perhaps, but also scamless.)
If you feel better, then it was WELL worth it. I dropped my GEICO car insurance 4 years ago and just discovered they've been debiting my premiums all this time. But they said they didn't receive it, so there's nothing for them to return to me or my bank. Yet, there's $1800 missing labeled as ACH check to GEICO. And so it goes... I tet it. The only thing missing from your diatribe were a few juicy 4-letter words.
I was waiting for an effortlessly strenuous attempt to insert a dormant volcano in there somewhere, perhaps behind Rose’s house or in Nigeria. 🤷