From: ddosch@faatcrl.UUCP (David J. Dosch)
Newsgroups: rec.humor
Subject: Network Operator From Heck
Summary: Variation on SOFH stories.
Keywords: SOFH
Date: 4 Sep 92 15:59:13 GMT
Article-I.D.: faatcrl.3677
Organization: FAA Technical Center, Atlantic City NJ

This post was inspired by the SysOp from Hell series.  I 
posted edited versions of the SOFH stories to select individuals
at work.  The demand for more SOFH stories was so strong that I
decided to write my own version:

Experiences with the Network Operator From Heck
                             ,,, 
                            (o o) 
------------------------oOO--(_)--OOo----------------------------

     My name is Special Officer Monday of the Security Analysis
Police, SAPs for short.  On February 29, at 2:23 pm our office
received an anonymous call from someone in the ASM-400 division.
Seems that over the past few months, a number of people were
found in a catatonic state, staring at their computer screens.
Their jaws were usually hanging open.  Some were found mumbling
"But it was only a little white rabbit."

My assignment...  Get to the bottom of it all!

(Insert Dragnet theme song here! Dum, Da DUMP Dump. )

     A quick review of the personnel in the division uncovered a
prime suspect. Typical profile: Clean cut, polite, and helpful.
Just the kind to take advantage of unsuspecting network users.   
We call it the "Network Operator From Heck" type. The suspect's
name: Slim Layperson.

(Another...   Dum, Da DUMP Dump.)

     On the following day, at 10:48am, I decided to pay an
undercover visit to the Center.  My investigation was almost
thwarted immediately, saved only by some quick thinking.  I
noticed that the security guards were checking photo ID badges at
the Main gate.  I confidently drove up and tried the oldest trick
in the book... I lied.  "Hi, I'm picking my wife up early so we
can spend the afternoon on the beach." Big smile on my face.  The
guard scrutinizes me, pauses, smiles, waves me in, and shouts,
"Have a good time!" 

     Disguising myself as a nondescript contractor working for
Demented Inspirations, I entered the T&A building.  (I'm
surprised no one has charged the FAA with sexual harassment for
that one!).  Upon arriving at the third floor, I located the
suspect's workplace. I discovered a sophisticated and complex key
security system. A direct approach seemed the only option
available, but I was unable to locate the key security officer,
Ben Cartoon.  After wasting most of a day looking for this
Cartoon character, I was able to bypass the key security system
by simply asking Cartoon's manager Jay Murphlaw for the keys.
This system is a fine example of government security. No one gets
in except those who don't belong.


2:56PM - The area seemed abandoned. Nothing happening
except for the perpetually ringing phone. I made my move.  As I
entered the suspect's equipment room, I was startled by the
presence of an assistant, Rich Whatever.  Again luck was on my
side, as it seemed that Mr. Whatever was fast asleep, oblivious
to reality. I quietly proceeded to bug the NOFH's office phone
and computer.


7:12PM - I continued my investigation outside the Center.  Rumors had
it that the alleged NOFH had sunk a lot of money into clothing, a
dollar bill at a time, into bras and panties.  Determined to
observe the fiend in his natural environment, I conducted a
person by person body search among the local establishments. A
thorough search was in order. Unfortunately the suspect eluded my
surveillance. An otherwise very rewarding search.  Good thing the
SAPs have a liberal expense account.

     Hazily returning to SAP office the next morning at 6:23am,
the following incriminating evidence was recorded:
  [Brackets indicate information from computer tap.]
  <Braces indicate information coming from phone>


7:03AM - (Sounds of a briefcase being thrown onto a desk, then
being opened.) Mumble, mumble, "... dumb jerk cut me off coming
into work, see how he likes it...", mumble, mumble...
     [Computer is turned on, and logged onto the network as
SUPERVISOR.  User John Smith's login script is modified to
produce an infinite loop of repeating beeps.  The network
configuration is brought up on the screen to show current user
connections.  The same user is bumped of the network.]
   A few minutes later, the distant sound of "Beep, beep, beep,
beep..." is heard.  
<ring>
"Hello, Slim Layperson speaking."
<Hi, this is John Smith.  My PC lost it's network connection and
when I logged back on, it started beeping at me.>
"Hmm.  That sounds serious.  Whatever file you were using may be
lost.  Were you working on anything vital?"
<I was working on a hundred page document on VSCS that I've got
to present to the FAA Administrator tomorrow!  I need this
document or I'll lose my job!>
[ H:>cd \HOME\JSMITH
  H:\HOME\JSMITH>dir VSCS.*
        VSCS.DOC  3002342 bytes
  H:\HOME\JSMITH>del VSCS.DOC
        Confirm? (Y/N) y        ]
"I'll look into the problem.  Oh, here it is!  A transient
voltage spike from your electric space heater disconnected you. 
If you log back in, there shouldn't be a problem."
[The user's login script is restored.]
<My file is missing!  Can you restore what I had from last night
from tape?>
"I'm sorry but the tape backup system has a bad head, and it ate
all the network backup tapes. Oh, here's a tape from... I can't
quite read it... from... from February!  Does that help?"
<No, I entered it all in two nights ago. Can't you do anything
else to help?>
"We cut a PR to get some more tapes.  They should be here by
December..."
<Aaaaaaaaargh!> Phone hangs up.
"Hah, hah.  Taught that jerk to not cut me off in traffic!"


8:12AM - Pfhhhht! "Ah! Milker Beer time!" 
[Hi resolution graphics appear on the screen.  The contents of
which seemed to emphasize scantily clad women of aesthetically
pleasing shape.]
Glug, glug, "Ah! This is the life."
<ring> "Go away." <ring> "If I have to answer you, you'll regret
it!" <ring> "OK, here it goes..." <ring>
"Hello, Slim Layperson speaking." (This is said in the most
pleasant tone of voice that I have ever heard.  It's hard to
match the voice with the dastardly crimes about to follow.)
<Yeh.  This be Warden Millhouse.  I'se wonderin' if y'all've
finished reformattin' mah dat'r base yet?>
"Well, I'm just finishing up.  Is there any immediate rush on
it?"
<Yep. I gotta git that there dat'r to Eddy Schumeister, the
Division Manager, ASAP.  We're a goin'a present it to Congriss to
get appropriations for the budgit.>
"Hum.  Why don't I just send it to you in DC, so you can show it
to Congress hot off the database?"
<Hey! That sounds like a right fine idea'r!  Y'all just do that. 
Thank-yee.> <click>
[rename BIKINI.PIC EEM.DBX
 rename HOOTER.PIC SPB.DBX
 rename BEACHX.PIC SITE.DBX
 rename XBEDSX.PIC RADAR.DBX
 .
 . 
 .
 mail *.DBX to WMILLHOUSE]
"I think Congress will be very interested in these figures! Hah,
hah, hah, hah... Glug, glug ...Ahhhhhhh... Buuuuuuurp. "


10:29AM - I start to strange noises on my audio bugs and random
characters appearing on the computer bug.  It's quite possible
that the NOFH has caught on that he's being bugged, especially
since nothing suspicious has occurred over the last half hour.


11:01AM - I place a call directly to the suspect.
"Hello.  Slim Layperson speaking, can I help you?"
<Yes, this is Special Agent Monday calling.  I'd like to ask you
some questions if you don't mind.>
"Ah HAH!  So your the jerk who bugged me!  Eat hot bytes and die
you loser!" <click>
   I look down at the phone in despair.  I'd forgotten to protect
my identity.  I had an idea that I'd made a major mistake.  I
just didn't know how big of one.  


The next day:
6:11AM - I discovered my home phone was disconnected. When I
called into work from a pay phone, there was no record of a
Special Agent Monday ever working for the SAPs. I started making
more phone calls.  My bank account disappeared, and neither
Social Security nor the IRS had any record of me.  According to
all records, I never existed.  Any job I applied for wouldn't
hire me since I had no school records.  I couldn't get a loan,
since I had no credit history.  The NOFH destroyed my life.

(one more...   Dum, Da DUMP Dump.)
------------------------------------------------------------ 
Epilogue:

     The NOFH served his time working for the State Corrections
Department teaching Novell network operations to inmates at the
State prisons. He now resides in a quiet shore community, behind
a Dunkin Donuts store.  He owns a video image t-shirt booth on
the boardwalk that is being investigated for pornographic
activities. 

     Special Agent Monday tried for years to restore his account
numbers, but his only success was with the IRS.  It seems that
they were willing to collect some back taxes he owed.  He traded
his service revolver for an Italian water ice vending cart, and
was last seen on the Margate beach in southern New Jersey.

The story you have just heard is true, only the names have been
changed to protect the innocent.


Quotes from the NOFH:

I don't have that much to work with.
                  - 7/27/92

I've got this thing, and I don't know what it is.
                  - 7/27/92

Dave, I think you are the cause of the fall of modern society.
                  - 6/21/92

-Dave D.-
Disclaimer:  These opinions are mine.  They don't reflect those
of anyone else in the FAA.  All events are fictional.  The
quotes are really from the person that the NOFH is based on.
Newsgroups: rec.humor