The mystery guest was customizing an avatar that can turn your Amsterdam chat world into a sewer of vice. He checked his watch. He'd met her. It was going to take a while for them to get her to crack. He'd be ready.

The mystery guest called home. "Oh, how are you son," his mother said. ". . . No, no really, of course we'd love to have you for Thanksgiving. I mean, if you're sure your allergies won't be a problem . . ."

Next time: the mystery guest crashes a seance!