Pradeep's deepDive: SchmucksCap
by Pradeep Deep, director of deep dives for cruzzbunch
By Pradeep Deep for CruzzBunch
You've probably never heard of a venture firm called SchmucksCap. That's by design. But their portfolio companies are everywhere: FastLaw's replacing our courts with algorithms, Cutesy's promising to bring your dead pets back to life, and $andycrotch... well, let's just say if you need someone to do literally anything, no questions asked, there's an app for that now.
After fifteen years of exposing tech scams and corporate espionage, I thought I'd seen it all. Then I stumbled upon this venture capital firm that seems to specialize in funding the unthinkable. Their official website is nothing but a submission form for startup pitches, and their corporate structure looks like a Russian nesting doll designed by Kafka. Their only public face, Green Franklin, hasn't been seen in over a year. But spend enough time digging, and one name keeps appearing in leaked emails and whispered conversations: Joel.
Who or what is Joel? Some say he's an AI. Others claim he's a reclusive genius. All I know is that when Joel says "jump," CEOs ask "into which metaverse?" Employees talk about him like he's omniscient. "Joel wants this feature launched globally." "Waiting on Joel's final input." "Joel says the murder rate isn't concerning yet."
I tried interviewing former SchmucksCap employees. Most wouldn't talk. Those who did either threatened legal action or started babbling about "the eternal unfolding system." One ex-engineer just sent me a gif of a man putting on a tinfoil hat. Thanks, Steve.
The $andycrotch fiasco should have been their downfall. Imagine Uber, but for crimes. The platform launched as a simple staffing service, then somehow evolved into what prosecutors called "the world's most user-friendly conspiracy marketplace." When accusations of murder-for-hire and election interference surfaced, CEO Green Franklin vanished faster than my journalistic objectivity.
But here's the weird part: this wasn't even their first rodeo. Their very first investment, a company called Schmucks, imploded in 2015 after what court documents describe as "a coordinated datacenter infiltration accomplished through disturbingly wholesome-looking temp work." The stock market dipped, security guards died, and someone made a fortune shorting tech stocks. Just another startup pivot, right?
In my desperation to crack the case, I tried pitching SchmucksCap myself. I invented a brilliant business plan: VR-enabled cat lending combined with HIV vaccine research. It made no sense, which according to my research, should have made it perfect for them. I received a single reply: "Your pitch stinks. You could have met me if you'd tried harder. You beta!- J"
The deeper I dig, the more convinced I become that SchmucksCap isn't just another VC firm. They're running the world's largest behavioral experiment, testing the limits of human nature through increasingly unhinged startups. Think of it as a Silicon Valley version of The Truman Show, but instead of Jim Carrey, it stars all of us.
Will we ever know who really runs SchmucksCap? Probably not. But next time you see a headline about a startup doing something that makes you question reality – like, say, a dating app that pairs users based on their gut microbiome (coming soon, I'm sure) – check the investor list. If you find a labyrinth of shell companies leading nowhere, you'll know: Joel's been busy.
PS: To Joel, who I'm certain is reading this: was the gut microbiome dating app idea better than the cat thing? Just curious.