Hackers hacking hackers. Easy prey. They

Hackers hacking hackers. Easy prey. They should have noticed how easy it would be to have someone take them down personally with a flash hit-squad. Better money than porn, that's

my Grandma! She's been hacking computers since IBM was a metal box with giant tape reels. The only problem is that she is dead.

The hairs on Little Johnny's arms stood on end. "Tell me another story about dead grandma," he said. "I think she lives inside my iPad. I saw her one night inside my screen. Does

n't every old person's face look like a cracked iPad screen?" Little Johnny became full of himself when his apple seeds sprouted iPads. Grandpa kept it PC, though. "Darn you, you

clap trap hunk of junk!" shouted Grandpa at his PC. It was an authorisation request or virus software update too much for Grandpa. Johnny smugly admired the design of his MacBook

Pro, but little did he know the Pro stood for Procreation. At night, his laptop would often sneak out of his room and force itself onto other electronic devices whether they liked

it Windows-style, Mac-style, or were really kinky and engaged in Linux. His laptop didn't really care, just so long as the urge to ProCreate was satisfied. Dozens of little laptops

watched, like nasty little voyeurs, lurid little faces appearing on their screens. Even a Zip Drive emerged from storage to view the show, but unfortunately it couldn't handle it

, too much dirt in it's head, & emitted the click of death. The smutty stag party at the computer museum degenerated when Commadore Vic asked Amiga if he could POKE her sprite

count as he dug them a nice niche in his loderunner but they got lost traversing the gnome mansion and by the time they got back to 9999, the party had left.