Smillew’s Scrabble Challenge Got Me Thinking
Who the devil is this fellow, anyway?
I mean, what kind of name is that?
Nobody BUT nobody has ever, in the history of the whole wide world, heard either name before. There is no Mr and Mrs Rahcuef who gave birth to a son. And if there was, YTF would they call him “Smillew.”
Then it came to me — an epiphany if you like. It’s not real. It’s a pseudonym. I had a further awakening, it’s a puzzle. YES, YES, YES! And I’m just the man to solve it. This calls for a beer.
I perused the tiles looking for patterns. Hmm, this beer is nice. I had another incredible piece of inspiration — Smillew Rahcuef is an anagram. I tossed the tiles on the board and almost immediately they formed into: —
Could it be? Is Smillew Rahcuef the devil himself?
Nah! He’s not got the fire in his belly for that, he’s too nice a guy. A quick shuffle brought a revealing result: —
This was further enhanced by another shuffle and misplaced tiles: —
Who can deny it? Smillew has come to Medium and ingratiated himself with so many writers — himself mostly. “It’s all about self-promotion,” someone whispered to him while still in the womb.
Smillew has since sucked on the thumb of his ego and come out billboard blazing. And there is nothing wrong with that. Another shuffle agreed with me: —
So, what is it that people see in Smillew? He’s an enigma. A contradiction. A seldom-seen sycophant. On the one hand, he’s kind. He’ll point out links that don’t work, clap for your articles and make mention of you in his stories.
On the other hand, he won’t read your shit or make mention of you in a good light — Grimsby Hackney, Ann James, Uvebruce, Michael Burg, MD (Satire Sommelier), Annie Trevaskis, Linda Osipow ~ Crazy, Almost Old Farm Wife, can you confirm?
Here’s the proof of his contradictions: —
My Advice
Take everything you read by Smillew with a slice of skepticism. And don’t be reading on into the night, set a curfew: —
I can’t warn you about this enough. It’s plain for any sane person to see. If you have a modicum of morality left in your body, play the game and get out while you can.
The doomsayer destroys everything in his wake: —
Slippery he may be. BUT and this is a big BUTT. This eel is a heel and he could end up in prison for all eternity: —
And we all know what happens to handsome guys in prison: —
Ha! Solved the mystery. The Enigma is no more. Smillew Rahcuef is a mix-and-match.
The end: —
Time to hit the road guys — I’m outta beer.
