Breakfast And A Laugh
There I was, in fuzzy slippers with a bowl of cereal, scrolling through Daniel’s digital misadventures and trying not to snort milk through my nose — his earnest requests for “good hacking tutorials for beginners” were peak amateur hour. Watching him flail online while he obviously thought he was leveling up felt like a private comedy sketch, and each failed bluster or clueless query became my morning’s entertainment.
Breakfast And A Laugh
Instead of feeling vindictive, I found myself oddly invested in his learning curve, quietly rooting for him to either get better or spectacularly implode in the most amusing way possible.
Setting The Perfect Trap
Blocking him outright would’ve been too straightforward and lacking in theatrical flair, so I aimed for a sting that targeted his swollen ego instead. I created a fake network called “DanielIsALeak,” a petty, gleeful flourish designed to bait him, and then waited with the impatient satisfaction of someone watching a slow-motion pratfall.
Setting The Perfect Trap
The setup was equal parts smug and surgical: no shouting matches, no awkward confrontations—just a deliciously obvious lure dangling over a gullible neighbor who’d swallowed his own hype about being tech-savvy.
