The RMS Titanic sliced through the cold Atlantic waters, a monument to human hubris. But deep in the bowels of the ship, in a cramped, grimy corner of third-class, AutoAdmit’s most infamous poasters were huddled together in a forgotten alcove near the cargo hold, oblivious to the chaos that loomed ahead.

Mainlining sat at a battered wooden table, sharpening a Bowie knife he’d somehow smuggled aboard. His eyes were narrowed, as if he was preparing for a “Grizz attack” in the middle of the Atlantic. Despite his slim, twink-like appearance, Mainlining was fit and strong, his outdoorsman lifestyle showing in the sharpness of his movements. “Should’ve brought my own bear spray,” he muttered, glaring at the small canister of ship-issued repellent. “What am I supposed to do with this? Scare off seagulls?”

A few feet away, Boom was rolling his “pimped-out” wheelchair—though on this ship, it was a creaky, wooden contraption he’d jerry-rigged with wobbling wheels and flickering LEDs. “This whole ship feels like one of ADM’s experiments gone wrong,” he rasped, gripping a trusty baseball bat that he had resting across his lap. The bat was worn and splintered from countless uses—Boom had wielded it like a Warhammer for years. “They cut one corner, and boom—iceberg. You know it’s all part of the shitlib conspiracy, right?”

In the corner, Evan39 was pacing furiously, wringing his hands and casting anxious glances at the dark waters outside. “This ship is just like $eattle. Look at us down here—forgotten, surrounded by chaos while the elites drink champagne up top. We’re all doomed, just like that city.”

GunneraTTTT, sitting back against the wall with a disinterested smirk, watched the scene unfold. “You all realize that no matter how fancy this ship is, we’re still just livestock in a gilded pen, right? If anything goes wrong, we’ll be the first to get trampled.”

Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, a deep groan echoing through the steel hull. The unmistakable sound of metal tearing filled the air. The Titanic had kissed the iceberg, but below decks, the chaos was just getting started.

Mainlining stood up, knife in hand. “Grizz attack!” he yelled, completely misinterpreting the situation as the ship began to tip. “I knew it, I knew it! Where’s my bear spray?” He grabbed the tiny canister, ready to fend off imaginary threats, his lean muscles tensing with readiness despite the absurdity.

Boom cackled as his chair jerked sideways, nearly tipping over. “It’s happening! ADM IRL, boys! I told you! This iceberg is just the first step in their global plan to drown us all.” He gripped the baseball bat tighter, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Time to live-poast this shitstorm!”

Evan39 froze, wide-eyed, as the ship groaned under the impact of the iceberg. “How dare they!” he shrieked, his voice cracking as if the very forces of nature had personally betrayed him. “How dare they!” It was transparently obvious he had no idea who "they" were, much less what had actually happened, but the dramatic refrain echoed through the chaos nonetheless.

The four of them quickly realized that they needed to escape, but third-class gates and panicking passengers stood in their way. Boom took the lead, wielding his trusty baseball bat like a Warhammer, bashing through the panicked crowds of third-class passengers as if they were nothing more than bowling pins. The gates blocking their way didn’t stand a chance—Boom swung the bat hard, splintering the wood and forcing open the barriers that had trapped them below deck.

Mainlining darted through the gaps Boom created, his fit outdoorsman frame easily squeezing past passengers and broken gates, his knife still at the ready. “Quick thinking as always, Boom. We’re not getting trapped down here.”

Evan39, despite his constant shouting of “How dare they!” somehow managed to keep pace, dodging between the fallen passengers Boom had left in his wake. GunneraTTTT followed closely behind, his expression unchanged, as if this was just another inevitable part of life’s evolutionary process.

As they made their way through the chaos, GunneraTTTT spotted a crying female child clutching a stuffed bear. Without a second thought, he pulled her along, securing himself a spot by her side at the lifeboats. “A real man makes his own luck,” he muttered as he stepped into the lifeboat, smirking as chaos erupted around him. “Survival of the fittest.”

Mainlining, always thinking on his feet, saw an opportunity as a crew member frantically tried to lower another lifeboat. A well-timed slip on the wet deck sent him tumbling headfirst into the officer’s legs, knocking him flat.

“Sorry about that,” Mainlining said, not sounding sorry at all as he dusted himself off and took the officer's place. He grabbed the rope, his fit arms easily handling the task of lowering the lifeboat. “I’ve got this. You go help someone else.” The dazed crewman, not knowing what else to do, stumbled away, leaving Mainlining in control.

With a sly grin, Mainlining called to a few nearby passengers. “Get in, before the real chaos starts.” He gave the rope a hard yank, sending the lifeboat down smoothly, while others nearby were caught in pandemonium.

Boom rolled past him, laughing. “Classic. Can’t believe you’re pulling off some mountain-climbing rescue moves out here.”

Evan39 scrambled after them, nearly slipping on the wet deck. “Wait for me! They’re leaving me behind, just like $eattle did! You have to save me!”

Boom turned his wheelchair toward Evan, grinning. “Get your ass in the lifeboat, Evan. You’re going to sink with some dignity, or you’ll sink whining. Either way, the ship’s going down.”

As the Titanic tilted, water rising rapidly, GunneraTTTT watched from the lifeboat with a detached sense of satisfaction, observing the evolutionary dead ends around him. “I knew this was inevitable. Look at them. Like cattle.”

Boom was still live-poasting, tapping away on a wireless telegraph. “To the bort: Titanic sinking. Blame ADM, blame the libs. IRL. We’re all going down.”

Evan39 finally threw himself into the lifeboat next to Boom, gasping. “I knew it… I knew it was all over. This is the end, just like I said. How dare they!”

The ship gave one final, ominous groan as the water climbed higher, swallowing the lower decks. Mainlining, clutching the last slice of “pep” he’d stashed in his coat, sat down in the lifeboat and shook his head. “Next time, we take first class. None of this third-class bullshiTTT.”

Boom rolled his eyes. “First class, last class—we’re all going under, one way or another.”

It wasn’t long before the four poasters realized they were the only third-class passengers in the lifeboat—and that the boat was overloaded with wealthy first-class passengers, their gilded possessions glittering in the moonlight. The weight was causing the lifeboat to slowly sink, and it became painfully clear that something needed to be done.

Mainlining was the first to act, his keen outdoorsman instincts kicking in. He quietly slipped behind the wealthiest-looking woman, eyeing her fur coat and diamond earrings. With a swift motion, he plucked the jewels from her ears and snatched the coat, wrapping it around himself like a trophy. Any hint of humanity had evaporated, as casual as tossing out trash, Mainlining chucked the woman overboard without a second thought. “Looks like this is better suited for survival,” he muttered, his lean muscles doing the work.

GunneraTTTT, always the pragmatist, followed suit. He scanned the passengers, his eyes settling on a man with a pocket watch and gold chain. “Survival of the fittest,” GunneraTTTT said coldly, as he deftly unclasped the chain and slid it into his pocket. “You’ve outlived your usefulness.” With a firm shove, the man was tossed into the icy water.

Evan39, despite his usual panic, found a moment of clarity. Spotting a woman with a pearl necklace and a diamond-studded hairpin, he swooped in, dramatically proclaiming, “How dare you flaunt this while we’re all about to die!” He ripped the pearls from her neck and the hairpin from her hair before hurling her overboard. “How dare they!” he shouted again, as if to the universe.

But Boom—Boom was having the most fun. His trusty baseball bat swung with reckless abandon as he knocked first-class passengers off the boat like he was playing a home-run derby. “You frauds!” he yelled, grabbing watches, necklaces, and whatever else was in arm’s reach. “All this shiny shit won’t save you now!” With every swing, another first-class passenger was sent flying into the sea. “$hitlibs, every last one of you!” he cackled, eyes gleaming with joy.

By the time they were done, the boat was significantly lighter, and the four poasters sat surrounded by piles of jewelry, furs, and luxury goods. The only first-class survivor was the crying child clutching her stuffed bear.

Boom wiped his brow with a gold-trimmed handkerchief he’d pilfered and glanced at the others. “Well, that should fix the sinking issue.”

Mainlining took the final bite of his “pep,” wrapping himself tighter in the stolen fur coat. He leaned back, surveying the chaos around him with a smirk. “Wow. And I thought only the outdoors are 180. Great team effort, gentlemen.”

Suddenly, as if the universe had a sense of humor, a massive crate of luxury goods—champagne, caviar, and pearls—floated by. Boom cackled, grabbing a bottle of champagne and raising it. “To the $hitlibs!” he shouted. The others couldn’t help but laugh as they toasted to their succe$$, adrenaline still running through their veins as if they were Mainlining the Secret Truth of Barbarity.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5609285&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310744",#48181825)