BOFH: Engage Hollywood Protocol – because nonsense always looks legit

And if that fails, there's cold, hard cash

Episode 3 "Well, now you've done it!" the Boss fumes. "We could've got through an audit with a couple of minor notes, but now we're going to be audited by a team of auditors who specialize in corporate process methodology."

"A team?" I ask.

"Yes."

"In that case," I say, "I'm going to insist on Hollywood Protocol."

"Oooh!" the PFY says, looking up from his keyboard excitedly.

"Hollywood Protocol?" the Boss asks. "What's Hollywood Protocol?"

"Hollywood Protocol is a deep dumpster-dive into the authenticity of reality," I explain. "The auditors will not see the banal workday reality of our workplace. Instead they'll see a shining and highly technical example of the workplace of the future. AND, because they can't understand it, it must mean that it's super high-tech."

"We're talking 50-digit IP addresses that look like a cross between a hardware address and line noise," the PFY says. "Screen savers with The Matrix backdrop; IDE windows on every desktop."

"Scrolling windows of colorful text with occasional flashing banners with statements like 'Core Redundancy Override' and 'Cryptoseed Timeout Recalculation,'" I add.

"Why?" the Boss asks.

"Because the incomprehensible has authority," I explain. "We'll show them complexity and they'll assume it means something."

"Oh, can I do the bit where I track a packet relaying off a server in Beijing, then Budapest, North Carolina, Genoa, Manila, Moscow, only to find that it's originating off a building across the road?" the PFY asks.

"Sure, but remember you have to do it in under 30 seconds."

"Why?" the Boss asks.

"So it looks 'realistic.' In real life, a traceroute is a blunt and imperfect tool, and unless you're a government agency, you're unlikely to get much past the first actual relay anyway, so you may as well jazz it all up with stacks of lines ping ponging all over a Mercator projection."

"Could we do one of those things where we have to guess a password in five attempts or it'll erase everything?"

"I guess so, but we'd want a countdown timer with a bunch of red LED seven-segment displays, and you could ONLY guess the password on the fifth attempt with one second to go. And the password would be something obscure that you could only work out when you happened to notice a personal photo on or around the desktop!"

"Or we could do a bomb!" the PFY gasps.

"WHAT!?" the Boss shouts.

"Not a real bomb, a password-deactivated 'bomb' and we're all locked in a room with a box that has stacks of multicolored twisty wires and a drum of some non-specific explosive fluid in it, and we have to work out a puzzle by solving complicated mind puzzles."

"Why?" the boss asks.

"Because this is Hollywood Protocol, where an unnecessarily complex death trumps just running us down at the road crossing between the pub and the kebab shop any Friday night."

"You seem to have, uh, thought this out."

"No thinking is required, it's just plagiarism. Another of the Hollywood Protocols."

"At some point," the PFY says, "we'll need to plug a keyboard directly into the back of a server – instead of just using the KVM switch – to allow us to access a drive, which will miraculously contain the data we want and not be part of a multi-volume striped and mirrored array."

"Wouldn't you rather copy 147 terabytes of data onto a 16 gig USB in 28 seconds?" I ask.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about," the Boss blathers.

"I can't copy it to that stick because I already have an up-to-date encrypted copy of the entire internet on it, using a special compression algorithm that only computer scientists on the dark web know about."

"Oh yes, that's right. Is that the same USB stick that has the access backdoors for connecting to any computer system in the world?"

"The very same," the PFY says.

The Boss just sighs, which I take to indicate his acceptance of being jailed for financial irregularities in the near future.

...

"And this is Mark, forensic accounting, Harry, who specializes in fiscal oversight, James, our business process guru, and I'm David, lead auditor on this case."

The Boss shakes each hand and prepares himself for the worst.

And the worst rains down upon him. Shabby asset control, no purchasing policy, improper receipting and inventory control, dated SOPs – you name it, we've apparently done it. Or not done it.

"I thought you were going to use the Hollywood thing," he snaps when we're out of the room to get coffees for everyone.

"The Hollywood Protocol?" I ask. "Yes, but when the PFY said he was going to have to 'jack into the Matrix to synchronize our competency payload,' that Harry bloke said it sounded like Hollywood Protocol to him."

"So he knows about Hollywood Protocol?" the Boss gasps.

"Apparently so. So we might have to use the actual Hollywood Protocol."

"What's the ACTUAL Hollywood Protocol?"

"Cash."

"Wait, are you suggesting we bribe those guys?"

"Absolutely not!!! I was suggesting that YOU bribe those guys."

"What?"

"Well, the PFY and I are just cogs in the machine. You're the one who's supposed to be monitoring all those checks and balances. On the plus side, it's white collar, so you'll probably only get two years of home curfew with the free ankle bracelet. While you look for a new job."

"How much are we talking?" the Boss asks, checking the cash advance limit on the company credit card.

...

Half an hour later, the Boss is happily heading back to his office after a quick trip to the cash machine and back, and a subsequent "chat" with our auditors.

"How did your meeting go?" the Director asks as the Boss walks by.

"We used the Hollywood Protocol," the Boss replies smugly.

"The Hollywood Protocol?" the Director asks. "Isn't that the one where you use mates from the pub to pretend to be officials of some sort in order to extort money out of someone?"

"Uhhh..."

• BOFH: Previous episodes on The Register
• The Compleat BOFH Archives 95-99