It was a sunny Tuesday morning, and Viktor the Janitor was in his element. Armed with his trusty broom and a tattered cap that seemed older than the neighborhood itself, he swept the yard with a rhythm only a seasoned professional could master. Suddenly, his broom hit something shiny buried in the leaves. Bending down, Viktor picked up what looked like a leather business card holder. He opened it, and his eyes widened.
“Wow, credit cards and debit cards! I’ve hit the jackpot,” Viktor muttered, though he had no idea what to do with them.
The Mysterious Cards
Viktor examined the cards like they were ancient relics. He read the names, numbers, and expiration dates, scratching his head. “These are like little rectangles of magic, aren’t they? You swipe, and poof! Free stuff,” he mused. But then his eyes landed on something peculiar: CVV.
“What’s this? Some kind of secret code? Do I need to bypass it? What does bypass even mean?” Viktor muttered, completely baffled.
Enter Baba Nina
Just then, the neighborhood oracle, Baba Nina, shuffled by. Baba Nina was legendary. If gossip were an Olympic sport, she’d have more gold medals than Michael Phelps. She paused, eyeing Viktor’s confusion with the precision of a hawk spotting prey.
“Viktor, what are you squinting at like it’s the crossword puzzle from last week’s paper?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.
“I found these,” Viktor said, holding up the cardholder. “They look important, but what in the world is a CVV code?”
Baba Nina gasped theatrically. “Viktor! That’s not just a code. It’s the gateway to the financial underworld!”
Baba Nina’s Crash Course
Baba Nina sat on the nearest bench, motioning for Viktor to join her. She snatched one of the cards and pointed to the three digits on the back.
“This, Viktor, is the CVV—Card Verification Value. It’s like the cherry on top of a cake. Without it, these cards are as useless as my nephew Boris trying to build IKEA furniture.”
Viktor leaned closer. “So, it’s some kind of super-secret password?”
“Exactly!” Baba Nina replied, waving her finger. “But let me tell you—no honest person tries to bypass a CVV code. Only hooligans and shady characters do that. And you, Viktor, are neither.”
Viktor nodded solemnly. “So, how do people use these things, Nina?”
“Well,” Baba Nina continued, now fully invested in her role as mentor, “you need to enter the card number, expiration date, and CVV code to buy anything online. But let me tell you something—if you find a site that doesn’t ask for the CVV code, run faster than my cousin Petya runs to the buffet at a wedding!”
Viktor’s Moral Dilemma
Viktor frowned. “So, I can’t just… swipe and enjoy free coffee?”
“Of course not!” Baba Nina scolded. “You’re not a pirate, Viktor. You’re a janitor, the unsung hero of this yard! We’re taking this cardholder to the police.”
“But what if nobody claims it?” Viktor asked, his voice tinged with hope.
“Then we’ll call the rightful owner,” Baba Nina said with a mischievous grin. “But not before I teach you how to spot scammers online. They’re as slippery as a greased-up eel!”
Epilogue: The Janitor and the CVV Saga
The duo turned the cardholder in to the local police station. Viktor, now enlightened about CVV codes, returned to the yard feeling a little wiser. As for Baba Nina, she told everyone in the neighborhood how she saved Viktor from “falling into the dark abyss of temptation.”
From that day forward, Viktor became the unofficial guardian of the yard—not just sweeping leaves, but also keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. And whenever he spotted Baba Nina, he’d give her a wink and say, “CVV saved me, Nina!”
She’d laugh and reply, “And don’t you forget it!”
