Narrator: And after a brief reunion, George Michael had another opportunity to impress his cousin.
Michael: He's got this privacy software, keeps people from stealing your stuff. Tell her, pal.
Maeby: So it's privacy software that's also anti-piracy?
Narrator: George Michael weighed his options. Maeby had chastised him for not taking risks, and what would be a bigger risk than perpetuating a lie about software just to ignite the passions of a woman? Of course, it would be a lie, and since Maeby wouldn't know it was a lie, he wouldn't appear to be taking a risk. Perhaps the bigger risk was to tell his father he was lying. That he came up with it because he wanted his father to leave so he could enjoy what remained of his senior year. After all, he wondered, wouldn't that be the course of action taken by an overtly sexual man? A man who owns a pair of matador pants? He had not responded now for 41 seconds, according to his unfailing internal clock, and it was time to come clean.
Michael: Well, thanks. Yeah. It's just a Boolean-driven aggregation, really, of what programmers call "hacker traps."
Narrator: And he found himself suddenly and effortlessly tapping into a long-inbred instinct for lying. A Bluth taking his first steps in deceit. But the more he talked, the more he actually started to like the idea.
George Michael: So, when you have friends over, you know, you're listening to music and they want to steal your music and copy your movies or... Or just look at your photos, you know, this prevents that. It just neutralizes that so it's not even a threat anymore. It's called Fakeblock.
Michael: Great name. Right?
George Michael: Yeah, well, you know, it's super low-hanging fruit. Someone's going to do it. We're just trying to be those guys, you know?