Jag fick ett mycket intressant mail via Facebook idag. En herre från Ghana sitter på en hög pengar som en Peter Olsson har lämnat efter sig, och eftersom det efternamnet är extremt ovanligt så måste vi ju vara släkt. Det luktar Nigeriabrev om det hela, men det här är ju från Ghana, så det är nog sant.
Så här skriver Benjamin T. Dabrah:
Hello Johnny Olsson,
I am mr . Benjamin T. Dabrah a citizen of Ghana . I have the information to the existence of an abandoned big sum of money in my department belonging to a late customers Mr. peter Olsson who happen to have the same surname as yours .The fund is now without any claim because Mr. peter died in a deadly earthquake in China .
The transaction will be of great mutual benefit to us . Simply send me your reply of interest so that I will give you the details .
Please strictly reply me through your email address and through my private address : email@example.com or email me your own email address then I will explain in details what my proposal is all about.
mr. Benjamin T. Debrah.
Så jag bestämde mig för att skriva ett svar:
Dear mr Dabrah,
This is fantastic news. You’ve just lifted a huge rock from my shoulders, and I want to get in touch with you to make some arrangements.
You see, in the 1970’s, Peter Olsson attacked and raped my mother. He was caught and brought to justice, where he was given the choice either to compensate my grandfather with a goat or marry his victim, making her an honourable woman. That was the Swedish law at the time. Being a serial rapist, Peter Olsson was flat out of goats and had no other choice than marrying my mother. This marriage resulted in my birth – I was conceived on their honeymoon in Säffle. Sadly, my mother died in labour. Peter Olsson – my father – left me on the doorstep to an orphanage, cashed my mothers life insurance and vanished.
My entire adult life I’ve been trying to track down my father, but without luck. So you can probably imagine what a relief it is to hear that he has died to death in a deadly earthquake. I hope he suffered.
Now here’s the thing. A couple of years ago, when I was in therapy (the orphanage was run by catholic nuns, need I say more?), it was suggested to me that I’d write down my story. So I did and it turned out I had a talent for writing. My story was published and it became a best seller. Soon it was translated to thirty languages, and I have just signed a deal with Paramount for the movie rights. So you can keep the money. In fact, If you can bring me some evidence of my fathers death, or if you can take me to where he is buried so I can dance on his grave, you will be generously rewarded.
Hope to here from you soon, and God bless you for bringing me these wonderful news! May Peter Olsson burn in hell!
Undrar hur mr Benjamin T. Dabrah gillar de äpplena.