A: What am I your f** wingman?
B: Come on you owe me for last time.
A: be quiet you Sonofa- whatever, don’t come crying to me later. I’ll try to create an opportunity for you, oh, and this will cost a little mor-
B: yeah I know what you want, it’s in the basement. -- Anon Guest
[AN: Ah, the temptation to riff on A Cask of Amontillado...]
Friendship can get weird, sometimes. Those who know each other tremendously well can get away with much more between them than would be tolerated amongst anyone else. Then there are the peculiar sort who have odd ways. Their alliances are based entirely on a combination of trade and paranoia. Some of which may be justified. Once you enter their rabbit-hole, it is hard to return to normalcy.
One person's ARG is another's way of life. Nobody knows how that happens for sure. By the time a person is well within tinfoil hat territory, then even they can't walk you through the process. Those looking for conspiracies find them. Those wanting a puzzle will make them.
So it was that these two meet under specific circumstances, involving encrypted messages and very specific random dates. One of them handed the other a ninety-nine, causing the other to recite, "The doughnuts have no sprinkles today." The initiator said in return, "I read there's strife in the Senate." Which meant that neither believed they were followed or observed. Life is never boring among these people. Call them... Armin and Brey.