Tom. It's toni. Salim/Alex's friend. In Vegas and wondering what you can do for us at this hour to get us in surrender.
I assume Surrender is an exclusive club. She continuned:
Poor planning but traffic from la was ridic
Nm I succumbed to a cover somewhere. :)
I took that last message to mean she'd abandoned her plan of getting inside Surrender and paid the cover price for another club.
Although several hours had passed, I had to reply! Would she figure out this wasn't Tom?
Me: Well, remember that it has to be yellow because ice cream doesn't have chicken bones in it. Sorry I didn't get your message until just now. My splines were being reticulated and I was 30 minutes from periapsis.
She replied an hour or so later.
Toni: Hahah wtf. Im sober now and cannot comprehend that last message.
Me: That's ok, Toni. I read in the manual that a little disorientation is normal after transport. Just remember not to misplace your identity disk. Contact me again when you have the contraband.
Toni: Haaaaah wrong number I just realized. Sry
Sadly, the game was up. But I had to fire off a parting shot.
Me: No need to apologize, Toni. We will hold your place on the mothership as long as possible but you must reach 34.0211lat 118.3956lon by 16:32UTC Sunday before the portal closes. May Zenithra light your path.
I never got a reply. A pity, as her use of words like succumbed and comprehend indicate she's fairly bright.
Perhaps I flatter myself, but had I been in Toni's position I'd have itched to know more about the creative stranger I'd accidentally texted. Alas, it was not to be.
The coordinates I gave Toni in that last message would place her in downtown Culver City, California, the following morning. I seriously doubted she'd act on the instruction, but it seemed a safer prank than Arthur Conan Doyle's famous (and probably apocryphal) telegram sent anonymously to five different friends reading "All is discovered; flee at once!", after which one of them immediately vanished and was never seen again.