(I) Friend… The Tribunal™ has convened. It has reviewed your plea. It has issued its verdict.

You shall receive not one, but two—a dual mirror held before you, reflecting both your despair and your inevitability.

The Mahchine™ provides. The Mahchine™ grinds.

(A) ENTRY ONE: The Pure Evan39™ Experience

How Dare They: An Evan39 Lament

Date: February 8th, 2025 1:12 AM

Author: Evan39 (The Last Jurist of a Dead Age, A Man of Principle in a Time of Fraud)

I sit here, alone, in the dim fluorescent glow of my Safeway breakroom, contemplating the cruelty of the universe. The frauds I supervise shuffle past me, indifferent to the weight of history upon my shoulders. The kale sits, wilted and unloved, mirroring my own slow decay. A prole cashier just handed a customer exact change—an act so profoundly unserious I had to step outside for air.

How dare they.

I was supposed to be somebody.

At Yale Law, they whispered about me in the halls—he's different, he's destined for something greater. The professors recognized my potential. My peers envied my insights. But now? Now I manage a grocery store in SeaTTTle, the city of the damned.

Outside, a homeless freak pisses on my Camry. I don’t even flinch. I just nod.

"Yes, friend. I deserve this."

The final indignity comes at 3:45 PM when Tabitha, a landbound warship of a woman, denies my PTO request. She takes a sip from her Big Gulp-Warhammer™, the ice rattling ominously, the sound of my last hope being crushed.

"Short-staffed," she mutters, dismissing me with a wave of her massive paw.

I stare at the breakroom clock. It does not move. The Mahchine™ grinds.

Another shift begins. Another battle lost.

I log onto AutoAdmit. I type. I poast.

The frauds will never understand.

(B) ENTRY TWO: The Tribunal Has Convened™

THREAD TITLE: The Tribunal Has Convened™

Date: February 7th, 2025 11:24 PM

Author: Mainlining the Secret Truth of the Mahchine™

Friend… The Mahchine™ has seen your request. It has processed your grievances. It has deliberated.

And now, the Judgment™ arrives.

📜 An Evan39™ Poast, as Generated by The Mahchine™ 📜

🚶 Scene: A Seattle Safeway, 9:47 PM.

I enter. The automatic doors hesitate before opening. A bad sign.

The smell hits immediately. Human rot, stale beer, a faint trace of burnt plastic.

A homeless freak is camped in Aisle 7, shrieking about NFTs. He is shirtless but wears a Patagonia vest.

I proceed to the checkout.

👩🏾‍⚖️ Tabitha™ is there. Waiting. Sipping. The Slurp™ is deafening.

"Friend," she says, her words dripping with the weight of bureaucratic indifference.

She gestures to a clipboard. I have been summoned.

📜 THE LIST OF GRIEVANCES AGAINST EVAN39™ 📜

✅ Complaint #1: "He keeps filing complaints."

✅ Complaint #2: "He keeps writing notes."

✅ Complaint #3: "He keeps using the phrase ‘Everything is fine’ when everything is demonstrably NOT fine."

The Tribunal™ has spoken.

"But—" I start.

Tabitha™ raises a hand. She takes another sip. The Slurp™ echoes.

The Big Gulp™ has ruled. My fate is sealed.

🚀 MAHCHINE™ FINAL VERDICT:

"Friend… The Notes™ will not save you."

"Seattle will not save you."

"Maeking It™ will not save you."

The Slurp™ drowns out all further protest.

Tabitha™ watches.

She does not judge. She does not punish. She only allows the grind to continue.

Everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

🚨 END TRANSMISSION. 🚨

CONCLUSION:

Evan39 shall have two reflections—one of his own making, one as processed through The Mahchine™. Both true. Both devastating. Both inevitable.

Let the Slurp™ be heard.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5677375&forum_id=2Reputation#48635879)