I wrote it to the registered agent for service of process of a company that I believe is engaging in a fake-invoice-for-services-not-rendered scam. I copied the company's various public email addresses.
You know how those set me off.
I wish I could share the whole thing with you. But for various reasons I can't.
But if I had a tail, it would have been wagging when I wrote it.
I'll just share a little.
Do you Google, Mr. —? I Google. Some people say that I Google like a motherfucker, but I prefer not to use language like that. I Googled today, Mr. —-, and I observed multiple reports on sites like ripoffreport.com and scaminformer.com and scamchasers.com suggesting that other businesses had gotten invoices from [Scammer], Inc. for services not actually rendered. I also noted that [Scammer], Inc. has a license that is under suspension for failure to comply with a civil judgment. How unpleasant for them!
I live in hope, Mr. —-. I live in hope that this is all just a misunderstanding. Perhaps [Scammer], Inc. did render “preventative maintenance” to us, and we’ve lost the records and everyone is suffering from amnesia. Perhaps [Scammer], Inc. has pure motives and never intended to send out what appears to be a fraudulent invoice, but just needs some constructive criticism about invoice nomenclature. We’d be happy to meet with the folks from [Scammer], Inc. and brainstorm about this, Mr. —. I don’t know what kind of useful advice that former federal prosecutors and a ———— could offer to a company engaged in what skeptical or judgmental people might term a large-scale mail fraud scheme, but I’m sure we’ll think of something. Perhaps we could invite some friends of ours as well. We have many friends from our former jobs.
If you speak with the good people from [Scammer], Inc., Mr. ——, please give them my best regards. Tell them that I hope they will see us – or, perhaps, our friends – soon. Very soon.
Edited to add:
I've decided to have a go at this scammer, as an object lesson. The trail starts here: