Zoo City Read Online Free PDF

from "fuck you, scamfucks" to "pull the other one". Add
    292 kanji variations, 137 in French, 102 in German, 64 in Arabic, 48 in Spanish and 12 in Urdu, all of which I'll plug into my translation software later. This leaves six potentials, two responding with cautious interest and the rest with abject confusion. I forward them all on to Vuyo, who is my catcherman. If people would just read the damn email properly, they would have responded to him directly.
       And then there's an anomaly that chokes my auto-filter. Two stark sentences that read as either nonsense or poetry, or both.
    When you eat, you are eating things from planes. The plastic forks, they leave a mark on you.
       There is no link. No return address. No point to the message at all. It makes me nervous.
       There is also an email from the dentist, a friendly reminder that it's time for my six-month check-up, please contact Ms Pillay to make an appointment. I haven't been to a dentist since I went to jail three and a half years ago. This is code for "contact me immediately", which is worrying because I'm not due to report in until next week. I log in to Skype chat where Vuyo is already online. Probably talking to "clients" in other windows.
Vuyo: Yes?
       He answers right away, curt as always. Vuyo is not his real name, of course. It's probably one of several not-hisreal-names that he uses in the course of business.
       I like to think of him hanging out in a huge sprawling Internet café adjoining a raucous street market in Accra or Lagos, kinda like a 419 sweatshop, but the truth is he's probably in a dingy apartment like this one, maybe even right next door. Flying solo, because it's all carefully decentralised.
Kahlo999: Hey, hello. How are you? Got a very strange msg. No return address. About forks. I'll fwd it. 
Vuyo: No! U dont know what it is girl. Might b a virus. Might b bad muti.
Kahlo999: Or a msg about cutlery.
Vuyo: U dont know. Could b rival syndicate. Police. Click here.
Kahlo999: What am I downloading? It's just, you know, I have very particular tastes in porn. 
Vuyo: Propriertary firewall 4 viruses spyware malware muti. And delete that thing.
Kahlo999: So what's with the dental appointment, boss guy? I haven't been flossing enough?
Vuyo: I need u 4 an interview. 2pm. Rand Club. Frances format. Clients want to meet her.
       I turn cold. Frances is a refugee in a camp in Côte d'Ivoire. Twenty-three years old. Suitably flirtatious if the moegoe on the other end of the line is a man, a good chaste Christian girl if it's a woman. More or less. Most characters are designed to be slightly flexible depending on the operator, although Frances is fairly one-dimensional. After the rebels attacked, she fled to safety, got stuck in the refugee camp, and now she can't access her father's fortune. Bog standard format. That is to say, not one of mine.
Kahlo999: Sorry. Not in my contract.
Vuyo: Not neg.
Kahlo999: Let's talk remuneration.
Vuyo: Will deduct it from ur total. Dont worry, Im keeping track.
Kahlo999: It would be nice if I could keep track too. Not that I don't trust you. 
Vuyo: U forget who u dealing with girl.
Kahlo999: My own personal knacker. The guys who bought the lame horse of my drug debt for cheap-cheap to turn it into glue.
Vuyo: Lame horse? Ur horse is expensive.
Kahlo999: Do you know how much racehorses go for? R150,000 is cheap at the price. So, here's the thing. Where do we stand you and I? What's my lame horse ass worth? 
Vuyo: R55,764.18.
Kahlo999: Profit?
Vuyo: Ha. No. U still owe us R94,235.82. 
Kahlo999: That's impossible. How many moegoes have I hooked for you?
Vuyo: Is v. possible. U forget interest. Normally 45%, but u get employee discount. Only 34%. And it is not fish on the hook, it is the fish in the bucket that counts.
Kahlo999: Fuck you, Vuyo.
Vuyo: This deal will bring in 50 Titos. If u do well, it is worth 10% to u.
Kahlo999: And if I don't?
Vuyo: Of course u will do well. U R practically a pro.