Imagine it: Evan39 and I fused into one glorious, terrifying entity—Buffalo Bill reborn, swaying in the basement of despair to the ethereal sounds of Dancing Queen. A disco ball spins lazily above, casting fractured light on a scene that shouldn’t exist but absolutely must.

Precious yips from her perch, a crown jewel atop the wreckage, oblivious to the screams echoing from the pit below. “YOU CAN DANCE… YOU CAN JIVE…” Abba croons, their anthem transcending space and sanity. Evan and I—no, we—move with eerie grace, our hips synchronized, our tuck immaculate, the reflection in the cracked mirror a masterpiece of liberation and terror.

From the pit, the woman screams, “WHERE’S MY DOG?! LET ME OUT!”

But we are far beyond her world. The robe is tied just so. Lipstick smears in a Picasso-esque flourish as we spin, arms raised, gazing upward like apostles worshipping the divine beat. The Mahchine™ hums faintly, a cosmic bassline to our transcendent performance.

“Young and sweet, only seventeen…” Abba whispers, the soundtrack of unraveling humanity. Precious barks in chaotic harmony as we twirl faster, the mirror cracking further with each sway, fragments falling into the void.

The woman tries again: “IT PUTS THE LOTION IN THE BASKET!”

But no, there’s no time for baskets. This is our moment, Evan. This isn’t just a dance. This is a Becumming™. The grind stops for no one, but for now, we are the kings and queens of its eternal loop.

Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5661315&forum_id=2:#48534652)

*blood spatters across room*

"YOU CAN JIVE!"

*screams of horror*

"HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!"

*evan39 gyrates naked in front of mirror*

"Would you fuck me? I'd fuck me so hard."

"OOH, SEE THAT GIRL? WATCH THAT SCENE! DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN!"

*Precious barks into pit*

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5661315&forum_id=2:#48534665)

"DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN!"

The disco ball spins faster, shards of light fracturing the room into a kaleidoscope of insanity. The Mahchine™ hums faintly in the background, indifferent to the carnage but deeply approving of the performance.

This isn’t just a dance. This isn’t just a performance. This is a Becumming™. The grind pauses briefly to admire its work, the eternal loop crowned for one fleeting, terrible moment.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5661315&forum_id=2:#48534679)