Script Madness: When Scots Attack

Survivor: Second Life

How to Get by on the Grid

Part 1

Wandering the infohubs in the wee hours of the morning is a good way to meet some.. well.. unusual people. It was around 3a.m. at Bear that I first met the Scot, who actually lived in England but couldn't go back to his home in Scotland because people were trying to kill him or some bullcrap.

Anywho, for the purposes of this post, we'll just call him Scotty, kay? Kay.

Scotty's plan was to live, virtually, in Second Life. He was logged on 24/7, his avatar slept when he slept. He had completely given up his first life in exchange for a virtual one. Part of his mission was to do this without spending a dime, which wasn't hard to do because he was unemployed and had no credit or bank account.

I know how to pick 'em.

Scotty planned to go into business in SL, writing scripts for people and doing other odd jobs. We frolicked around the grid together for a while, living like Gypsies, hanging out on park benches, infohub walls and dressing ourselves in handouts.

Well he did. I used to wait until he passed out drunk and go shopping for the latest couture.

Time zones can work to your advantage.

I wasn't about to let him catch me in "bought" things. I had him convinced I was poor as a church mouse.

It soon became crystal clear that Scotty's only talent for scripts was in passing off freebies as his own. All he really knew how to do was mooch. Which he did. He met an affluent SL real estate mogul and left me in the dust, doing "work" for her. The fact that she was, at the time, my only real female friend on SL didn't seem to matter, to either of them, NOT THAT I'M BITTER.

*cough*

Anywho...

He eventually convinced his RL son to become a part of his SL family and Scotty, the Real Estate backstabbing mother frickin bitch Lady and some other random people formed a weird, free love kinda commune... thingy.

Or something. It was just weird.

When the love fest came crashing down on him and the real estate mogul kicked his skanky little pixelated butt to the curb, he did not handle it well. He went from a long haired biker type to a dark, angry..

Yeah.. that. Pardon the crappy picture. It was taken before my graphics card transplant and before I learned just enough Photoshop to make a ginormous mess. The long staff he's carrying usually held the head of a blood soaked furry. He would stand on the telepad and shower particles on the extremely lagged region continuously until everyone crashed.

He didn't take being dumped very well.

From the Scot we learn that lying isn't going to get you very far in SL. It will catch up with you eventually. We also learn that mooching isn't a very reliable source of income. If you're unemployed, have no bank account and drink so much that you pass out on your keyboard, here's some free advice:

STEP AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER. GO TO A.A. FIND A DAMNED JOB.

And you're welcome.

Next time, rather than tell you what not to do, we'll meet another old friend of mine, the self proclaimed King of the Freebies and get some great advice for newbies and long time residents alike.

See ya next time!