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Fucked Up College Kids File 005
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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The BackYard
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First thing. I know I said these files are designed to make you think
about something or another and they are. This one is no different than
the others and hopefully people will catch what I am trying to get across.
Next, the BackYard is used in this, but apply this story to any board that
doesn't give access or NUPs out to anyone. I am not trying to boost my
ego or anything like that. Just a simple story and not much more.
It was late. REAL late. The clock that sat next to his computer said
it was almost 11:44. Way past his bedtime, he risked facing his parents
in order to try it. He had been planning it for days now. Tonight, he was
going to do it, he was actually going to call the BackYard. With any luck,
he would be validated by tommorow night.
The lights were all off in his bedroom, and he was making sure to keep
absoultely quiet. For days now he had worked as hard as he could to find
the elusive phone number that would connect him to the BackYard. He had
mailed all of his friends trying to find out who ran this mysterious board
and what number it was at. He had even found out there was a new user
password he would have to get past. But that was no trouble, for he was
a hacker. He just knew he could get past that and be on his way to all sorts
of neato files he could leech away at.
Nine more minutes and he would call. It would be midnight then, and he
could call and be one of the hyper-elite. He quickly glanced over his
shoulder to make sure that his parents hadn't walked in to check on him.
He sat there in his Superman pajamas waiting quietly. His walls were adorned
with nintendo posters, middle school awards, and other stuff that was k00l.
His computer desk was full of newly obtained disks of warez and he was
just waiting to get more!
Just today he had gotten the mail he wanted to see. It was from his best
friend and the best hacker he knew. It was his best friend, Tommy, aka
Leecher. His friend had DLed a file called FUCK0001.TXT. He didn't dare DL
such a file because his parents would ground him from his computer for a
year if they found out. PREDATOR. It was so simple. But it was the new user
password for the BackYard, and would let him get on and get the account he
so dearly wanted.
Twelve o'clock! The time had come. He hit enter, and BitComm did the rest.
He watched each number pass slowly....the number rang...and he heard the
tell tale whistle of carrier being sent. He had never heard a more beautiful
sound in his 11 and a half years. CONNECT 1200 scrolled out across his
screen. He had connected to the BackYard! He almost yelled out but quickly
silenced himself and looked around to make sure he hadn't been found out. A
moment passed and no one came to his door so he figured he was safe.
The title screen scrolled by so fast and he looked at it and studied
each and every bit of it. He moved his trembling hands to his keyboard and
slowly typed in the word, NEW. As expected, it asked him for the new user
password. He typed as fast as he coul. P-R-E-D-A-T-O-R. The next second was
the longest of his life, and he waited a lifetime for the response it seemed.
"Welcome..." flashed on his screen. He had made it! He was a user on the
hyper-elite board known as the BackYard.
Boy would his friends be jealous! He slowly read all of the text that ran
across his screen. So much to read but he just knew it would pay off. It
took him almost 20 minutes to read the three pages of text. Some of it was
legal stuff that he didn't quite understand, but the second part was about
the board and the rules of it. He read and re-read each one to make sure
he could remember them. The last thing he wanted was to break a rule on this
board and get kicked off. Another [PAUSE] and it stopped. Ansi? What was
that? Hmmm. Since he wasn't sure, he decided to hit N. A second later and
it came to that dreaded time. He had to enter his handle. This question had
kept him thinking for days now, whether or not to use a new one or an old
one or something he had heard before. His mind was made up...BLACKBEARD. No
one would guess who it was.
He was tense, more tense than he had ever been. He slowly read, and typed
and answered every question put to him. He was honest, boy was he honest.
Lying just wasn't the thing to do, especially lying about stuff like his
phone number, age, and all that. This sysop wouldn't erase him for lying!
Seconds later and it was validation letter time. This was the only other
thing that had crossed his mind these past few days. This was it...
HELLO!!! AS YOU CAN SEE I AM NEW TO THIS BOARD. I GOT THE NUMBER FROM
A REAL GOOD HACKER AND HE TOLD ME HOW TO GET ON THIS BOARD SO HERE I AM!!!
I LIKE TO PLAY GAMES AND DOWN LOAD FILES BUT I EVEN UP LOAD FILES TOO! I
WILL BE A GOOD USER I PROMISE SO GIVE ME A LOT OF ACCESS TO EVERYTHING ON
THIS GREAT BOARD!
BYE!!!
BLACKBEARD!
/S
With the final enter he finished it off. It was only a day before he would
be validated and he could call back and see everything he had been missing.
He was too excited to do much more and besides, he had school tommorow. With
a few keystrokes, he dropped carrier and went to bed.
Far across town, in some obscure college dorm, on the sixth floor, a
slight chuckle could be heard followed by a single "click". If you knew the
keyboard well, and had good ears, you would know it was the 'D' key being
hit.
As I said. I am not really thinking my board is cool. It is better than
a few of the boards in the area and such but who gives a shit. Anyway, the
point of all this is just to make you think about how trivial being on one
BBS is. I mean, you have access to a few more files, a few more subs to post
drivel on, a few more g-files to read. Just don't make it a big issue to get
on a board. Hell, I do it to so this is sorta "do as I say, not as I do".
-Dam
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= Questions, comments, bitches, ideas, etc : z3mar@ttacs.ttu.edu : FUCK =
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= Official F.U.C.K. Distribution sites and information =
= Board Number Other =
= ----- ------ ----- =
= Immortal Hate 806.745.8879 World HQ =
= Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Eastern HQ =
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= Accounts NOT guaranteed on any F.U.C.K. distribution site. If you are =
= interested in writing for, or in becoming a distribution site for =
= F.U.C.K. call Immortal Hate, and apply for an account, or mail Dam =
= at z3mar@ttacs.ttu.edu or on Immortal Hate. Knowledge is power... =
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