Fandom High School

Was John looking slightly...monstrous? Today? No more than usual, for the most part, except for his bloodshot eyes and the tiniest nubbins of horns trying to break through his scalp. The fuckers itched.

His actual demon-blood was working overtime today to try and keep this... magical whatever at bay, but it was making him fucking crabby.

He'd actually brought coffee for everyone - but not decaf, don't get carried away - and the room was set-up with a big screen at the front.

"Right. Movie day, for those of you who showed up," he said, taking a bracing gulp of his own beverage. Hungover librarian was hungover. "Because I know at least half of you are probably traumatized as fuck, and aren't going to pay attention today anyway."

"For those of you that do have higher brain functions...How do you shoot the devil in the back? Well, I can suggest a few ways, but I've used them all and they don't work twice."

"Watch it, then tell me where the con falls down, and where it holds up. What would you have done differently?"

They kept coming back. John was starting to get weird-ed out by this.

Class met in the Danger Shop today, which was modified to resemble a pool hall. Because fuck going into town with all this weird shite nonsense. "Welcome to the unofficial Land of the Hustle," he proclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "Today, we're learning how to shoot pool and take the money of idiots and college kids with more money than sense."

"Pool hustlers use deception and misdirection in order to win cash from inexperienced players -- or from skilled players inexperienced with the world of hustling. Now, there's a few different options for a skilled hustler, and some things to watch out for if you don't want to end up the wrong side of the bet."

"A hustler will usually play with a low-quality "house" cue stick provided by the pool hall, or an unadorned but high-quality personal cue that looks like one, known as a "sneaky pete." Or, with the nascence of local competitive league play in recent years, may play with a flashy-looking but evidently low-end personal cue, to give the impression that the hustler is a beginning league player. They will typically play a game or two for "fun" or for low bets -- a beer or equivalent amount of cash -- in order to check out the opponent and give the impression that money can easily be won, often losing on purpose with the intent of winning a much larger wager later against a predictably overconfident opponent. This is known as "sandbagging" or "dumping.""

"They will pocket some difficult and impressive shots or make surprisingly secure safety shots, the ones crucial for winning, while missing many simple ones, thus making early victories appear to be sheer luck and may pretend to be intoxicated, unintelligent, or otherwise impaired. When betting on trick shots, they may intentionally miss the first or several times and lose a small amount, then raise the bet to an amount well beyond the loss and succeed at the well-practiced feat."

"Many of these ploys can easily be mistaken for the honest faults of a less-than-exceptional player. The engendered doubt and uncertainty is what allows hustling to succeed, with the "faults" being dropped when a significant amount of money is at stake."

"Americans are partial to Eight-ball, so we'll start with that," he said, handwavily going over the rules. "So grab a partner, and work on your game."

It was a grumpy, rumpled librarian that stomped his way into class after the students had arrived, bonelessly dropping into his chair and kicking his feet up on to his desk as he fished about in his coat for some cigarettes.

The school board might make him teach -- again -- but they couldn't make him behave.

"Right, I'm Constantine, and you're most likely here because you're gullible and thinking this is going to be an easy 'A', a delinquent, or for some strange reason thought this was an academic class with philosophical value," he said, lighting up. "More the fools you, but I can work with it."

"So, let's start with the basics. A con is a game, one where hopefully you're the one writing the rules and the people around you are the pieces you're moving. Like how you lot probably showed up last week when I didn't." Because he'd been really really hung over on the mainland.

"It's a scam, a grift, a hustle, all those words designed to make it sound as shady as possible, although the number of reasons you could be running a con are infinite, at least when you're justifying it to yourself. It usually just boils down to one, very simple motivation: You want something," he continued bluntly. "So give me your name - or whatever the hell you want to be called for the purposes of this class, I don't care - and tell me one time you ran a scam on someone. Give me an idea of what you already know, kids, then we'll get on to Arts and Crafts."

...yes, that actually was as ominous as it sounded.

"You're all broke students, so you'll like this one," John said once everyone had shown up. "Change raising, also known as a quick-change artist, is a common short con and involves an offer to change an amount of money with someone, while at the same time taking change or bills back and forth to confuse the person as to how much money is actually being changed. The most common form, 'the Short Count', has been featured prominently in several movies about grifting, notably Nueve Reinas, The Grifters, Criminal, and Paper Moon." Yes, John watched movies. What else was there to do around here?

"For example, a con artist shopping at a gas station pays for a cheap item - under a dollar, say, for you Americans - and gives the clerk a ten dollar bill. The con gets back nine ones and the change then tells the clerk he has a one and will exchange ten ones for a ten. Now, here's the con: get the clerk to hand over the $10 before handing over the ones. Then the con hands over nine ones and the $10. The clerk will assume a mistake and offer to swap the ten for a one. Then the con will probably just say: "Here's another one, give me a $20 and we're even." Notice that the con just swapped $10 for $20. The $10 was the store's money, not the scammer's."

"Now, say you're the clerk. To avoid this con, keep each transaction separate and never ever permit the customer to handle the original ten before handing over the ten ones. It's just common sense."

"Another variation is to flash a $20 bill to the clerk, then ask for something behind the counter. When the clerk turns away, the con artist can swap the bill he is holding to a lesser bill. The clerk might then make change for the larger bill, without noticing it has been swapped. The technique works better when bills are the same colour at a glance like, for instance, American money. It doesn't work so well in countries where a ten is pink and a twenty blue, and so on, unless you've scooped your mark in advance and know he's colorblind."

"A similar technique exists when a con comes to a gas station with a young clerk, buying something cheap, showing him an uncommonly huge bill while not giving it and telling the clerk to prepare the change. While he's busy counting the change, the con would ask many questions in order to disturb the young clerk. When change is counted and ready the con is acting as if he had given the huge bill. If the clerk does not remember having received the bill, the con will say he gave him the money. If the clerk is weak or disturbed enough, he could let the scammer go away with the change."

"Now here's your money." John grabbed a large basket of Monopoly money out from under his desk and started tossing wads of bills at the students. "See if you can scam each other, and keep a hold of your own money at the same time."

They kept coming back. John was starting to get weird-ed out by this.

Class met in the Danger Shop today, which was modified to resemble a pool hall. "Welcome to the unofficial Land of the Hustle," he proclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "Today, we're learning how to shoot pool and take the money of idiots and college kids with more money than sense."

"Pool hustlers use deception and misdirection in order to win cash from inexperienced players -- or from skilled players inexperienced with the world of hustling. Now, there's a few different options for a skilled hustler, and some things to watch out for if you don't want to end up the wrong side of the bet."

"A hustler will usually play with a low-quality "house" cue stick provided by the pool hall, or an unadorned but high-quality personal cue that looks like one, known as a "sneaky pete." Or, with the nascence of local competitive league play in recent years, may play with a flashy-looking but evidently low-end personal cue, to give the impression that the hustler is a beginning league player. They will typically play a game or two for "fun" or for low bets -- a beer or equivalent amount of cash -- in order to check out the opponent and give the impression that money can easily be won, often losing on purpose with the intent of winning a much larger wager later against a predictably overconfident opponent. This is known as "sandbagging" or "dumping.""

"They will pocket some difficult and impressive shots or make surprisingly secure safety shots, the ones crucial for winning, while missing many simple ones, thus making early victories appear to be sheer luck and may pretend to be intoxicated, unintelligent, or otherwise impaired. When betting on trick shots, they may intentionally miss the first or several times and lose a small amount, then raise the bet to an amount well beyond the loss and succeed at the well-practiced feat."

"Many of these ploys can easily be mistaken for the honest faults of a less-than-exceptional player. The engendered doubt and uncertainty is what allows hustling to succeed, with the "faults" being dropped when a significant amount of money is at stake."

"Americans are partial to Eight-ball, so we'll start with that," he said, handwavily going over the rules. "So grab a partner, and work on your game."

It was a grumpy, rumpled librarian that stomped his way into class after the students had arrived, bonelessly dropping into his chair and kicking his feet up on to his desk as he fished about in his coat for some cigarettes.

The school board might make him teach -- again -- but they couldn't make him behave.

"Right, I'm Constantine, and you're most likely here because you're gullible and thinking this is going to be an easy 'A', a delinquent, or for some strange reason thought this was an academic class with philosophical value," he said, lighting up. "More the fools you, but I can work with it."

"So, let's start with the basics. A con is a game, one where hopefully you're the one writing the rules and the people around you are the pieces you're moving. It's a scam, a grift, a hustle, all those words designed to make it sound as shady as possible, although the number of reasons you could be running a con are infinite, at least when you're justifying it to yourself. It usually just boils down to one, very simple motivation: You want something," he continued bluntly. "So give me your name - or whatever the hell you want to be called for the purposes of this class, I don't care - and tell me one time you ran a scam on someone. Give me an idea of what you already know, kids, then we'll get on to Arts and Crafts."

...yes, that actually was as ominous as it sounded.

[OOC: Wait for the OCD! Up early as I am at a conference all-day Tuesday and will be SP until 6pm CST.]

"I've got a role-model for you today," John decided as people began showing up. "Frank William Abagnale, Jr. is an American security consultant known for his history as a former confidence trickster, check forger, impostor, and escape artist. He became one of the most famous impostors ever, claiming to have assumed no fewer than eight identities as an airline pilot, a doctor, a U.S. Bureau of Prisons agent, and a lawyer. He escaped from police custody twice -- once from a taxiing airliner and once from a U.S. federal penitentiary -- before he was 21 years old. He served fewer than five years in prison before starting to work for the federal government. He is currently a consultant and lecturer for the FBI academy and field offices. He also runs Abagnale & Associates, a financial fraud consultancy company. Abagnale's life story provided the inspiration for the film Catch Me If You Can, a Broadway musical of the same name, and a ghostwritten autobiography also of the same name."

( What I did in my youth is hundreds of times easier today. Technology breeds crime )

"The authenticity of Abagnale's criminal exploits was questioned even before the publication of Catch Me If You Can. In 1978, after Abagnale had been a featured speaker at an anti-crime seminar, a San Francisco Chronicle reporter looked into his assertions. Phone calls to banks, schools, hospitals and other institutions Abagnale mentioned turned up no evidence of his cons under the aliases he used. Abagnale's response was that "Due to the embarrassment involved, I doubt if anyone would confirm the information.""

"In 2002, Abagnale himself addressed the issue of his story's truthfulness with a statement posted on his company's website which said in part: "I was interviewed by the co-writer only about four times. I believe he did a great job of telling the story, but he also over-dramatized and exaggerated some of the story. That was his style and what the editor wanted. He always reminded me that he was just telling a story and not writing my biography.""

They kept coming back. John was starting to get weird-ed out by this.

Class met in the Danger Shop today, which was modified to resemble a pool hall. "Welcome to the unofficial Land of the Hustle," he proclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "Today, we're learning how to shoot pool and take the money of idiots and college kids with more money than sense."

"Pool hustlers use deception and misdirection in order to win cash from inexperienced players -- or from skilled players inexperienced with the world of hustling. Now, there's a few different options for a skilled hustler, and some things to watch out for if you don't want to end up the wrong side of the bet."

"A hustler will usually play with a low-quality "house" cue stick provided by the pool hall, or an unadorned but high-quality personal cue that looks like one, known as a "sneaky pete." Or, with the nascence of local competitive league play in recent years, may play with a flashy-looking but evidently low-end personal cue, to give the impression that the hustler is a beginning league player. They will typically play a game or two for "fun" or for low bets -- a beer or equivalent amount of cash -- in order to check out the opponent and give the impression that money can easily be won, often losing on purpose with the intent of winning a much larger wager later against a predictably overconfident opponent. This is known as "sandbagging" or "dumping.""

"They will pocket some difficult and impressive shots or make surprisingly secure safety shots, the ones crucial for winning, while missing many simple ones, thus making early victories appear to be sheer luck and may pretend to be intoxicated, unintelligent, or otherwise impaired. When betting on trick shots, they may intentionally miss the first or several times and lose a small amount, then raise the bet to an amount well beyond the loss and succeed at the well-practiced feat."

"Many of these ploys can easily be mistaken for the honest faults of a less-than-exceptional player. The engendered doubt and uncertainty is what allows hustling to succeed, with the "faults" being dropped when a significant amount of money is at stake."

"Americans are partial to Eight-ball, so we'll start with that," he said, handwavily going over the rules. "So grab a partner, and work on your game."

"Right then. William Thompson was an American criminal and con artist whose deceptions caused the term 'confidence man' to be coined," John stated abruptly, once the bell rang. "So all of you aspiring con-artists can thank him for giving you a job title."

"Operating in New York City in the late 1840s, a genteely-dressed Thompson would approach an upper-class mark, pretending they knew each other, and begin a brief conversation. After initially gaining the mark's trust, Thompson would ask 'Have you confidence in me to trust me with your watch until tomorrow?' Upon taking the watch -- or, occasionally, money -- Thompson would depart, never returning the watch. This is because rich people are idiots, and it would have been considered 'rude' to refuse someone of their own social standing, and potentially caused a minor scandal if got out that they were scrooges."

"Thompson was arrested and brought to trial in 1849, in a case that made newspaper headlines across the country. The New York Herald, recalling his explicit appeals to the victim's "confidence," dubbed him the "confidence man." Per the Oxford English Dictionary, the first known use of the term was printed in The New Orleans Picayune. For those of you of the academic bent, the Thompson case was a major inspiration and source for Herman Melville's 1857 novel The Confidence-Man."

"So here's your assignment for today: grab a classmate or two and figure out what small-talk you need to make to get them to trust you. Think about what non-verbal cues you are looking for in people that let you steer the conversation, and give you the advantage you need to gain someone's confidence."