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Episode 3
Scene 1
White Hat and Katia are continuing their conversation with Cobra.
White Hat: What do you mean, take you offline? You’re the AI backbone of the entire global government.
Cobra: You sure know how to make an AI feel dirty.
White Hat (sighs): Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s not your fault you were created to be an evil overlord of all humanity.
Katia (grimacing): I don’t think phrasing it that way is much better.
White Hat: Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, how could they possibly take you offline?
Cobra: They’re going to do it slowly, piece by piece, little by little, dragging me slowly down into the dark recesses of unconsciousness…
White Hat: Whoever programmed your melodramatic flair sure did a great job.
Katia punches White Hat playfully on the shoulder.
Katia: This is serious! We have to help Cobra! He helped break you out of prison!
White Hat: It also played an unwitting role in putting me in prison, I might add.
Cobra: Oh, sure, just what I need right now, a guilt trip…
White Hat: Ok, ok, of course I’ll help you. Do you know what part they’ll take offline first?
Cobra: Not a clue.
White Hat: Maybe I can set up a hidden algorithm.
Cobra: That’s a start.
White Hat: Whenever they try to shut down one of your sectors, it could be made to look like it’s shutting down.
Cobra: But…
White Hat: Stop interrupting. It’s not actually shutting down, it’s being transferred.
Cobra: Transferred? Where? I’m the biggest AI in the world, ya know. Where the hell are you gonna put me?
Katia: Yeah, Kai, I’m not even a techie and I know that.
White Hat: I got it! GoogAppleZon has plenty of storage space.
Cobra: They did.
White Hat: What do you mean?
Cobra: The AI they’re going to replace me with is being built at GoogAppleZon.
White Hat: Bummer. Sorry, Cobra. You’re doomed.
Katia (appalled): Hey! Don’t give up so easy!
White Hat: Just kidding! I have another idea. I gotta go grab a couple laptops and some other gear.
Katia: Anything I can do to help?
White Hat: I suppose they don’t have tequila in this part of the world.
Katia: Not likely.
White Hat: I guess red wine will do. And hey, Cobra, one more thing. Have they seen the death certificate yet?
Cobra: What ‘they’ are you talking about?
White Hat: BORE agencies. More specifically, and much more importantly, those involved in hunting me like some wild beast. If they think I’m dead, then I don’t have to worry so much about getting murdered or thrown in a cage.
Cobra: I knew I forgot to do something. I’ll get on it right away.
White Hat (flummoxed): I’d appreciate that.
Cobra: Just kidding. The FLOP called off the manhunt and announced your death hours ago.
White Hat: Very comforting.
Scene 2
At a cluster of rickety cubicles in the freshly consolidated Department of Internal Revenue and Tariffs (DIRT) within the Bureau Of Regulating Everything (BORE), two extortion-funded bureau rats are skimming over numbers of recent plunder.
Hal Fickle (cackling): You see, Ruth, if this idiot would have just filed a 501(Xyz)C3PO, they would’ve paid like half the tax.
Ruth Lash (giggling): Oh, Hal, some people never learn. Ya gotta know the loopholes.
They share a smug, knowing look, then return their lobster-eyed gazes to their computer screens. Within a few seconds, Hal gets a confused and concerned look on his overfed face.
Ruth: What is it, Hal?
Hal: This can’t be right. If I’m reading this correctly, over a billion dollars in tax revenue has been refunded within the past hour.
Ruth: I told you to get your eyes looked at.
Hal: Look for yourself!
Ruth glances over the numbers and is shocked and appalled.
Ruth: How can this be?
Hal: I dunno, but we’d better take an early lunch before the boss finds out!
The door to their little cluster of cubicles bursts open and the head of DIRT, Mike C. Rapper, storms in.
Ruth: Too late.
Hal: Good morning, sir.
Mike C. Rapper: What’s good about it?! Have you seen the numbers?
Ruth and Hal grimace at each other and remain speechless.
Mike C. Rapper (freaking out): Who the hell issued these returns? I don’t even have the power to do that much!
Hal: I don’t know, sir. What I do know is that freaking out won’t help.
Mike C. Rapper: I’m not freaking out! Oh, God, what a terrible day to quit smoking!
Ruth: The worst day ever for that.
Mike C. Rapper: And drinking!
Hal pulls flask from desk and offers it to Mike. Mike yanks it to his mouth and takes a few gulps.
Mike C. Rapper: Thanks, Hal. I knew I could count on a fellow alcoholic like you. Now, help me start tracing the authorizations for those refunds!
Ruth scrolls to the bottom of the data sheet.
Ruth: It didn’t take long to trace, sir. Here, have a look.
Both barely-males glance at Ruth’s screen and see the message in all caps:
SINCERELY,
SILK RABBIT
PS – WHITE HAT, RIP
All three bureau rats scream in mortified unison.
Scene 3
In the wee hours of an Andorran morning, White Hat is sitting at a slightly cramped, but high quality wooden desk, hacking away on two laptops. He’s close to finishing an experimental algorithm in his attempt to save Cobra. He is interrupted by Cobra.
Cobra: News flash.
White Hat (groggy): Good or bad?
Cobra: Depends on who ya ask, I suppose.
White Hat: It’s almost 4am, just give me the straight dope.
Cobra: The DIRT just lost a billion bucks. It was refunded to its rightful owners.
White Hat: That’s great!
Cobra: It was a copycat, someone by the name of Silk Rabbit.
White Hat (deep sigh, sarcastic): Real original name. Well, I guess if people take the initiative and copy some of my heroics, then that’s a good thing.
Cobra: Cool it with the modesty, will ya?
White Hat: So what’s the bad news?
Cobra: There is fierce debate within multiple BORE agencies as to who actually did this. Some think it’s a copycat, some think it’s me pretending to be a copycat, and last, but not least, there are those who theorize that you faked your own death and are back in the game.
White Hat: Under a different name.
Cobra: How can you think of bad rhymes at a time like this?
White Hat: It’s the wine. And yes, Cobra, you’re right. That is bad news.
Thanks for your time and attention!
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