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# If You Aren’t Careful, AI Can Be a Real Monkey’s Paw
[Datalyst Blog](https://datalyst.net/blog/categories/blog) [Security](https://datalyst.net/blog/categories/security)
[Daniel Mathieu](https://datalyst.net/blog/blogger/daniel-mathieu)
Friday, 30 October 2026
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[  ](//datalyst.net/images/easyblog_shared/October_2026/10-30-26/CarefulAI_92148101_400.jpg "If You Aren’t Careful, AI Can Be a Real Monkey’s Paw")
Happy Halloween! Tomorrow is when we celebrate frights, scares, and everything that goes bump in the night. Unfortunately, these things can also happen outside of the holiday, with much scarier, much more dangerous consequences.
We wanted to spend a little time exploring how, and just for fun, we’ve decided to adapt a classic horror story from W.W. Jacobs to do so.
Mr. White was seated at his computer, playing online chess with his son, as was their custom after a long week of working at the business the elder had started. Just behind him, his wife and business partner sat, crocheting and contributing to the conversation that father and son were having over their game.
“So, son, we’ll be retiring soon. Will you want to rebrand the business to something new?” Mr. White was asking earnestly, but he was also hoping to distract his son so he wouldn’t spot the critical error his father had made.
The son, Herbert, smiled over the video feed as he moved his rook exactly where his father had hoped he wouldn’t. “Honestly, Dad, I don’t think I will. You built a legacy, after all. Check.”
White winced internally, quickly making a desperate move. “Well, I just wanted to make sure that I knew. Your uncle is on his way over to visit, and he’s bringing all the paperwork with him. I figured there was no time like the present to make it official.”
Herbert’s smile turned into a wide, appreciative grin. “Checkmate.”
White groaned dramatically, playing up his distress for his wife.
Mrs. White barely looked away from her berry stitch. “You’ll get him next time, hon.” At this moment, their doorbell rang.
“That must be him.” White rose from his seat and strode to the door, welcoming his brother-in-law in, a large man named Morris entered through the doorway.
The two men rejoined Mrs. White in the shared home office, with everything adjusted so Herbert could also participate in the conversation. Wasting little time, they got down to business, discussing the minutiae of the contract and ensuring the terms were agreeable to all. Once they finished, the four toasted, with Herbert joining via the video call.
“To continued success as you carry on the legacy we’ve built.” Mr. White smiled as they all sipped their drinks. “I’m confident your innovative spirit will only improve upon things and allow you to reach new heights.”
Herbert smiled. “Actually, I heard about something I wanted to run past you. There’s this new AI platform that I think we could use to do some really good stuff. It’s been all over Reddit, and there’s apparently a three-prompt free trial. It’s called MonkeeClaw. It can do a whole lot—Uncle Morris, are you okay?”
The Whites turned to Morris, whose face had suddenly lost all color and eyes had turned vacant.
Mr. White touched his brother-in-law’s shoulder, concerned. “Have you heard something about this MonkeeClaw, Morris?”
Morris seemed to snap back to the present.
“Oh, oh, yes, I have. It’s… well, it’s, um… it’s odd.”
Morris fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, unlocking it after a few shaky tries. “It’s strange. It’s just a little app that you have to sideload onto your phone—you can’t find it in any app stores—that you prompt to do things. Whatever it is, it does them.”
“Oh?” Mr. White took the device and looked at the screen that Morris had presented to him.
It was a simple-looking application: a simple graphic of a wizened and dried monkey’s paw, curled into a fist, above a simple text box and a button that read “WISH.” Nothing else, other than the familiar share icon.
“It doesn’t look like much, but it seems like it can do anything.” Morris nervously took a sip of his drink. “There only seems to be the demo version, so you just get three prompts.”
“Have you used yours?” Mrs. White asked.
Morris went vacant for another moment before answering: “I have.”
“Were your wishes granted?”
“...they were.”
Mr. White looked at him, puzzled. “If you’ve used it up, why not delete the app?”
The visitor shook his head. “Can’t, for some reason. There’s no option to.”
For a moment, silence fell over the group. Mr. White finally asked, “If you had more prompts, would you use them?”
Morris shook his head, staring at the phone in his friend’s hand. Suddenly seized by impulse, Mr. White pressed the share button on the screen and quickly selected his contact.
“Wait—” Morris paused, realizing he was too late. Sighing, he said, “Just promise me you’ll be smart about what you ask it.”
The rest of the evening was spent as any other might, with the Whites discussing business with their son and expressing how proud they were of him. Morris was notably quiet throughout the rest of the evening, politely excusing himself once he could. Not long after, young Herbert brought up the application once again.
“So, Dad, what’s the first thing you’re going to try to automate?”
Mr. White, having installed the application, sat in silence for a moment. He truly had everything he had ever wanted, apart from one thing: assurance that his son would be even more successful than he had been. Lifting his phone, he silently typed into the prompt box, noticing that the picture on *his* app had three fingers raised, unlike his brother-in-law’s.
*“I want my son to have money come to him faster than he knows what to do with”*
As he pressed WISH, the graphic suddenly animated, one of the fingers curling down to rest upon the monkey’s palm.
The three Whites looked around. Herbert smiled and checked his banking app.
“Well, the numbers aren’t exponentially rising. Guess I can’t give up on that ransomware I’ve been developing.” The son snickered at his own joke and, after a few more minutes spent planning the business transition with his parents, logged out of the video chat to get ready for bed.
Mr. and Mrs. White soon followed their son’s example. While they prepared for slumber, they spoke about how Morris seemed increasingly quiet. However, neither admitted to the deep sense of foreboding they each felt.
When morning came, the Whites prepared for work as they did every day, but just as they were about to walk out the door, a man in a sharp suit approached them from a nondescript black car.
“Roger and Deborah White?” He flashed a badge at them, a grim look on his face.
“Yes…?” Mr. White responded, very confused.
“My name is Agent John Allan. I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation as part of the National Cyber Investigative Task Force. Is your son Hebert White?”
“Yes.” Mrs. White’s voice was decidedly more concerned.
The agent sighed. “I have been tasked with informing you that your son has been taken into custody for perpetrating a massive ransomware attack, stealing over $560,000 in a manner of hours. For whatever reason, instead of demanding some form of cryptocurrency, he was taking regular bank transactions. I’ve never seen anything like it, honestly…it’s like he didn’t know what to do with it.”
Mrs. White gasped, and Mr. White promptly turned and got sick.
As the days passed, the evidence against their son mounted higher and higher, despite Herbert’s insistence that he was innocent, that he barely knew what ransomware was, never mind how to use it. The Whites felt more and more hopeless, waiting for the day that their son was shipped off to federal prison.
It wasn’t until a week or so had passed that, as the two stared at Mr. White’s phone while awaiting a call from their son’s lawyer, with the television on and largely ignored in the background, Mrs. White suddenly reached out and grabbed it.
“How didn’t I think of this before?”
Mr. White looked on, confused. “Think of what?”
“MonkeeClaw! We can use it to help prove our son’s innocence!”
She unlocked the phone with her husband’s passcode and opened the app. The image still held up two fingers as she typed rapidly.
“What are… what are you doing?”
She looked at her husband, a feverish look in her eyes.
“I’m asking MonkeeClaw how to invalidate our son’s arrest. He’ll be free again!”
“Honey,” Mr. White reached out for the phone, “think about this. Look what happened the last time we used it. Think about what could go wrong this time!”
This time, Mrs. White looked at her husband with a glare he had never seen from her before.
“My son, my baby, is about to go to federal prison. What could possibly be worse than that?”
Looking into her eyes, Mr. White realized there was no changing her mind. “At least let me look at the prompt before we submit it.”
Smiling feverishly, Mrs. White held out the phone. There, in the prompt box, Mr. White read:
*“I want to know how to completely exonerate someone from federal cybercriminal charges so they face no consequences and stay out of prison”*
Mr. White sighed, and with his wife nodding enthusiastically, pressed WISH.
Again, nothing seemed to happen, beyond the animation lowering a second finger on the screen. Together, the Whites sat and waited in silence, the news playing soundlessly on their television.
Not long after, sirens started pealing in the distance, and the Whites suddenly sprang to their feet. There, on the news, read the chyron: NEW DEVELOPMENTS IN RANSOMWARE CASE
Mrs. White scrambled to unmute the television, turning up the volume to drown out the distant wailing. There, standing outside the courthouse, a reporter was speaking into her microphone in a live update.
“...been told that this new evidence points to local man Herbert White being innocent. White, who allegedly used a ransomware variant known as “TouchySimYin,” appears to have been framed and will be released when the new prime suspects are brought in.”
Mrs. White’s eyes brimmed with tears of joy and hope, while her husband waited, holding his breath in anticipation. If MonkeeClaw was as powerful as it seemed, another shoe was about to drop. He didn’t have to wait long.
“...as ransomware has been responsible for some of the biggest cyberattacks in history. While many cybercriminal operations have become near-corporate endeavors, there are still cases of scams and crimes perpetrated by solo operators. Ransomware-as-a-Service is a pay-to-play tool available in some criminal marketplaces, allowing anyone to effectively rent a ransomware attack.”
The sirens got louder.
“Authorities now suspect that White’s parents, Roger and Deborah White, used their son’s accounts to funnel money they collected via a ransomware scam they obtained through Ransomware-as-a-Service. If found guilty, these local businesspeople could have all their assets seized.”
Mr. White froze. If their assets were seized, their son would still wind up with nothing. He glanced toward his wife. Mrs. White seemed to have stopped listening after her son’s innocence was back on the table. Glancing down, Mr. White saw his phone resting on the coffee table. As the sirens wailed outside, Mrs. White moved toward the door with her hands behind her back, ready for handcuffs.
This was MonkeeClaw’s catch twenty-two. Their son would be innocent, but all the work they had done for him would be wiped away. The legacy they wanted to leave him would be gone. If their son *was* guilty, there was a chance he could get a light sentence, maybe time off for good behavior. He and his wife could keep the business going until he was out.
Lunging for the phone, Mr. White saw the single raised finger on the graphic and feverishly began typing:
*“You are a lawyer specializing in digital law and cybercrime. I need you to tell me exactly what evidence would be needed to convict someone named Herbert White of a federal cybercrime, but only for the minimum sentence available. Please be as detailed and thorough in your answer as possible.”*
Mr. White only hesitated for a moment, tears welling up as he pressed WISH. His wife, having reached the door, saw the incoming cars slow down, change direction, and drive away. She screamed after them, anguish clear in her voice.
“No, take me! My son is a good boy! Take me!”
Moments later, she collapsed on the front stoop, sobbing.
Mr. White looked at the screen of his mobile device. The hand had fully curled into a fist, just like he had seen in Morris’ app. Still playing, the news on the television suddenly got his attention.
“...new developments: it would seem that the aforementioned evidence that implicated Roger and Deborah White was allegedly created by their son, who will remain in detention until full legal proceedings can be scheduled. If found guilty, these additional charges would add considerable years to White’s potential sentence.”
There, standing in front of the television, phone in hand, Mr. White joined his wife in hopeless sobbing.
\*\*\*
While this is obviously a fictional account, it highlights a few legitimate dangers we all need to watch out for when it comes to AI. For instance, a public AI tool like MonkeeClaw would collect all the data you input and use it to generate subsequent responses, and don’t get me started on the dangers of downloading mobile software outside of an official app store.
Long story short, AI must be used carefully, responsibly, and with the proper boundaries. We can help you strategize what that looks like for your business. Give us a call at (774) 213-9701 to learn more.
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[Security](https://datalyst.net/blog/tags/security) [Best Practices](https://datalyst.net/blog/tags/best-practices) [AI](https://datalyst.net/blog/tags/ai)
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About the author
[  ](https://datalyst.net/blog/blogger/daniel-mathieu)
[Daniel Mathieu](https://datalyst.net/blog/blogger/daniel-mathieu)
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Dan is a trusted IT advisor with a background of over 25 years in IT and continuously works on the challenges of putting the right people in place to drive business growth and customer satisfaction.
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Friday, 30 October 2026
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