Does anyone remember the "Denny's Dead" hoax?

Back in the 1990s (I think), some person (or group of people) played a prank/ran a publicity stunt on a number of people (including (as I recall) a member of the Monty Python troup). The way it worked was

  1. Send an apparently misaddressed email with budgetary information from some guy named Denny to the target of the prank
  2. As “Denny,” apologize profusely for the mistake when it’s pointed out
  3. A few days later, someone who is purportedly Denny’s boss sends an email warning that the information Denny sent was proprietary.
  4. Someone emails that “Denny’s dead”

n) Hoax revealed in an email that says “You were played, you were teased, you were intrigued”

Does anyone remember hearing about this - I read about it on the blog of the Python member back when it first occurred (he was not amused by this creepy hoax - basically, it was a non-consensual Alternate Reality Game), and I used to be able to find some stories about it on the web, but when I was googling today I couldn’t find it.

I’ve never heard of this scam/prank, but it seems kind of pointless.

If someone sends me proprietary information, even by accident, I am under no legal obligation to do or refrain from doing anything. So when “Denny’s” boss emails me to tell me the information was proprietary, I don’t need to care. I don’t care if “Denny” is alive or dead, either.

So, in my case, it would run -
[ol][li]“Denny” send me the email[/li][li]I email back saying “you got the wrong address” and delete the original email[/li][li]“Denny” apologizes[/li][li]I say “no problem”[/li][li]“Denny’s boss” emails me warning me the information is proprietary[/li][li]I email back saying that I deleted the email[/li][li]Somebody emails me that “Denny” is dead[/li][li]I think “how sad” and dismiss the matter from my mind[/ol]What am I supposed to have done? [/li]
I actually have been getting emails from some company purportedly in India about some shipment being delivered somewhere. I assume it is either [list=A][li]a scam, and they will send me a bill later, which I will ignore, ora misdirected email.[/list]I assume it is more likely A, but since I am not going to respond and give them my email address, no harm done. If it is B (not likely), it’s not my problem. [/li]
Regards,
Shodan

Somehow I got distracted and missed including the later step

  1. Someone else emails and says Denny was murdered - possibly by his company.

The goal was just to get “buzz” among famous folks for the team (advertisers/ avante-garde art collective/ generic gang of jerks) for having created such an “entertaining” escalating paranoia-raising scenario.

No, never heard of this.

When I google denny’s dead python, I get nothing.

Never heard of it. I’m kind of with Shodan in that I can’t imagine spending more than a couple brain cycles on it based on your description. But assuming it’s a real thing, there was probably more to the prank that sucked people in.

Found it! https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1997/08/09/a-web-of-lies/65db34c8-ea01-4c6d-9b6c-22d81157470d/?utm_term=.60382666f1c5

"A more elaborate and potentially more dangerous prank was recently played on 40 media executives, two journalists and Monty Python alum Eric Idle.

“The following accounts have reference numbers way out of sequence,” began the first, innocuous e-mail, ostensibly written by some guy named Denny Reikert from some corporation called Dysson. None of the recipients had heard of Dysson, and most replied in return e-mails that there had been some sort of mistake.

Apologetic and mysterious e-mails from Reikert followed, along with a note from Vicky DeBice, Dysson’s director of human resources, assuring that “Dysson does not buy or sell electronic address lists.” Later, DeBice sent another message: “For reasons yet to be understood, you received messages from one of our members, Denny Reikert. Denny Reikert was found dead yesterday afternoon.”

At this point several recipients, among them Microsoft exec Marty Behrens and MGM online producer Ken Locker, referred the incident to corporate security. But the story continued: Mendiero Barrett, Dysson’s vice president of Pan-Pacific Integration, announced a private inquiry into Reikert’s suicide; a corporate-looking Web site offered employee photos and client lists; an anonymous employee insisted that “Denny was no suicide.”

“By the time they asked if I wanted to take Denny Reikert’s position at the company, it seemed to stretch credibility,” said Locker, who was taken in by the hoax.

As the recipients were informed two weeks after the “on-line fiction” began, Dysson was the creation of LaFong – the team of Michael Kaplan and John Sanborn, who also created a CD-ROM called “Psychic Detective” and several other Web adventures.

Kaplan thought of the interactive idea after his wife, Susan, began accidentally receiving corporate e-mails from a company called Digital Cities. As the messages continued, Kaplan decided to indulge. “When a memo showed up asking that all recipients check Roger’s numbers before Friday’s presentation, I wrote back something like: Is it just me, or do Roger’s numbers look a bit padded in the 3rd quarter? Let’s confab ASAP.’ And I held my breath to see if there would be a reaction.”

https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/library/cyber/week/071997python.html

"The incident came to the public’s attention at the end of June, when Idle updated the site with a lengthy diatribe detailing an escalating series of very real e-mail exchanges he had had with denizens of the Dysson domain, whose Web site identifies itself as “a cooperative foundation” with 33,000 active members.

Idle said the first unsolicited message from Dysson arrived in his private e-mail account in mid-June, from a “member” named Denny Reikert. Idle informed him that the note had been sent to him in error.

What at first seemed like a minor mistake rapidly assumed more sinister overtones. After a few days and a few more messages about the e-mail mix-up from Reikert and Vicki DeBice, Dysson’s director of human resources, DeBice reported to Idle that Reikert had been found dead. She told Idle that he would probably be contacted by Dysson’s security force. Idle responded by sending DeBice his lawyer’s phone number.

Then Idle discovered Dysson’s Web site and its descriptions of its mission and activities – vaguely worded language that reads like a cross between a New Age cult’s recruitment brochure and a computer company’s annual report. As Idle mulled the site’s contents, he continued to receive e-mail messages from other Dysson members, including one asking if he would be interested in assuming some of Reikert’s responsibilities. With increasing annoyance, he continued to reply.

Beginning to sense a scam and reacting to his wife’s rising alarm, Idle called upon a security-consultant friend, who expressed certainty that the e-mail messages were no more than a prankster’s hoax and theorized that the same person was writing all of them.

Although Idle says he has never been bothered by stalkers, he adds: "You have to be aware. People get strange obsessions. Luckily, if you’re a comedian, by and large they either want to tell you a joke or sell you a script.

“In threat assessment, the first step is to see whether these people are harmful or not. My friend thought they were intrusive but not harmful, and then I relaxed. As soon as I knew that, I felt I could play with them back.”

Which he did, briefly. Then, deciding that enough was enough, he wrote, “Please go away and leave me alone.” Instead, he was e-mailed a password and was invited to register on the Dysson site. Idle entered the password-protected area of the site, determined it was a “feeble” joke and departed.

But as Idle recounts on PythOnline, only after writing as “Detective Mark Thomson” and raising the specter of a lawsuit did his correspondents finally divulge their motives.

“You were pitched,” the message to Idle admitted."

I can’t imagine this working today with most people. When I look at my email inbox each morning I look at each sender and the subject. If it is not a person or company I recognize, or if the sublect is something I am not familiar with, in the trash it goes. I never even read them let alone reply.

Dennis

Agree completely.

Likewise. Not worth the time, or the risk of a scam.

Plus, you would probably know if you were dead.

It would be especially harsh to learn it from an email.

Am I the only one wondering about this? If someone’s contacting me with information about a possible murder, I’m calling the police. If it’s something within my own company, I might contact corporate security… right after I contact the police. If it’s not even within my company, then what the heck is corporate security even supposed to do?

Unless, of course, my company has a policy that you never contact the police, in which case… I’m calling the police as soon as I find out about that policy, even without rumors of murder.

Maybe “Denny went up on the roof last week” would have worked better in the beginning.

I think this is an important point. I’m not sure when the prank was pulled, but that article is from 1997, so it was at least earlier than that, in the relatively early days of email. People weren’t inundated with spam, scams, etc. For many people, it was still a novel form of communication. There’s a telling quote from that article, which sounds absolutely ridiculous from our perspective today:

I can see why this could get annoying.

*Eric Idle: I wish to complain about this Denny person from whom I got an email from this very boutique.

Boss: Oh yes, the, uh, Denny…What’s,uh…What’s wrong with 'im?

Eric Idle: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with him, my lad. 'E’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with 'im!

Boss: No, no, 'e’s uh,…he’s resting.

Eric Idle: Look, matey, I know a dead Denny when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.

Boss: No no he’s not dead, he’s, he’s restin’! Remarkable, idn’it, ay?

You and others in this thread have way, way more faith in the computer savviness and bullshit detectors of most people online even today. You’re probably technically correct with “most people,” but a not insignificant minority would still fall for it.

Yes. I think that’s why I remembered this story after 20 years (I’m sure I read about it when it was new). A few weeks ago, I read a story about the early days of telephones - a very wealthy man had a private telephone line between his home and his banking office. One day, he received a call at his office from his home - from a stranger who said he had his wife and butler tied up, and would kill them unless the banker gave money to a confederate who would arrive at the bank shortly. After paying off the confederate, the banker rushed home to learn that all was well - there had been a stranger in the house, who they had left alone in the room with the phone for a moment (I forget the pretext used to get the fellow in the house), but he left soon after (soon after making the call!). As with email in the 1990s, phones were an exciting enough technology that people didn’t clearly think about the security aspects (a related story from a book about telegraphy called “The Victorian Internet”: it had been common practice to publish news about the departure of naval vessels in London papers - after all, the ship could get to its destination well before the newspapers would; it was some time before it was realized that the existence of telegraphs changed that calculation).