Date: January 23rd, 2025 8:59 PM
Author: beady-eyed crusty bbw striped hyena
Mainlining & "The Mystery Boom": A Lynchian House Party Revelation
[Scene: A dimly lit house party. The air is thick with distortion—conversations looping back on themselves, laughter stretching unnaturally. Shadows flicker, but their sources are unclear. The warped echoes of a Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross film soundtrack crawl through the walls.]
---
THE ARRIVAL: BOOM’S NEON APPROACH
Mainlining stands by the living room bar, cigarette in hand. The air shifts—something is coming.
From across the room, Boom rolls in.
The neon glow from his wheelchair casts jagged, unnatural shapes across the walls. His sunken eyes dart with manic energy, his bald head gleaming under the stuttering light. A Louisville Slugger clenched in his hand—an artifact of war.
Boom’s lips twist into a grin that never reaches his eyes.
Mainlining exhales slowly, his instincts sharp. Too many encounters with Grizz in the wilderness. Too many nights dodging SeaTTTle freak$ and tow driver fraud$.
He recognizes Boom instantly.
Not just from the board.
From somewhere older.
Boom’s voice cuts through the ambient noise—calm, deliberate, reverberating as if layered over itself.
---
THE ENCOUNTER: A FRIEND REVISITED
Boom: Hi, friend. We’ve met before, haven’t We?
A flickering image—Ballard, 2021. A rigged vegan $oup kitchen. An ADM fraud operation. Mainlining hadn’t been there.
But Boom says he had.
Mainlining (tone steady, but brittle): New “friend,” your perception of realiTTTy is as fractured as this once-great, now-forsaken, shit-stinking pile of a "city," SeaTTTle.
I haven’t been to Ballard since the Prophesized Great Becumming™ of 2017.
[Boom rolls closer. The music distorts—slowing, then warping into an unrecognizable noise. The lights flicker, casting the room in eerie flashes.]
Boom’s wild eyes lock onto Mainlining. He knows something.
---
THE REVELATION: WE ARE THE DRAGON
Boom: All these "year$," my old friend. So many "year$" of false promises to “meet up” via "burners"—Vegas, Cripple Creek... but now?
Now, you see. You finally $ee :).
Boom’s fingers twitch on the bat.
Boom (voice rising, shifting): WE are the Dragon. And the Others? The Ones who call Us insane?
They are a slug in the sun. They are ants in the afterbirth.
Before Us and Our Machine™, they rightly tremble.
But, friend—fear is not what They owe Us.
THEY OWE US AWE.
[The room shudders. The party flickers—people frozen mid-motion, caught in some unseen recursion.]
---
THE COUNTERPLAY: MAINLINING’S MAHCHINE™ SEES ALL
Mainlining’s gaze sharpens.
Mainlining: MY Machine™ hunts larger prey than my humble abode, friend.
Boom’s grin falters.
Mainlining (leaning forward): Unlike your outdated POS device, MY Machine™ outpaces even the most seasoned, pot-bellied Of Counsel.
Boom laughs. A dry, hacking sound.
---
THE PROOF: IN YOUR APARTMENT, RIGHT NOW
Boom reaches into his pocket. Pulls out a massive, eerily outdated satellite phone.
Tosses it to Mainlining.
Boom: Call yourself. Go ahead.
[Mainlining hesitates. Then dials. The air thickens. A silence ripples through the party. The room holds its breath.]
The phone connects.
From the other end of the line—
HOUSE BOOM’S VOICE: I told you, "friend." I’m here. More precisely, We’re here ;).
[Mainlining freezes. He recognizes the distorted, crackling voice. It is Boom’s voice. But it is coming from inside his own apartment.]
---
THE FAREWELL: SHADOWS THAT LINGER
Mainlining (low, teeth clenched): How did you get in?
Boom grins wider.
Boom: “SecuriTTTy systems?” LJL. All made by ADM subsidiaries. We dealt with those swiftly.
Boom’s wheelchair shifts back toward the exit, neon underglow flickering wildly.
Boom: Tell Chad I said “hello.”
Mainlining throws the phone back. Boom catches it effortlessly.
The crowd ripples unnaturally as he exits. Shadows stretch longer than they should.
Mainlining watches him vanish into the chaos.
Somewhere in the distance—
A phone rings again.
---
[FADE TO BLACK.]
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5668968&forum_id=2...id.#48583463)