Act 1: The Setup

SeaTTTle, Washington. The streets glisten with rain as neon signs flicker. Needles litter the alleys, and graffiti marks the walls with the insignia of a city that’s lost its way. Evan39, supposedly the manager of a Safeway—or is he really a biglawyer with ties to Perkins Coie? Maybe he’s Boom or Mainlining in disguise—drudges through his miserable workday. Every shift feels like a LinkedIn nightmare come to life.

Today, Evan’s nemesis, Kalisha, the least-liked clerk, responds with her usual disdain. "Naw," she says, right before taking her ADA-mandated "restroom break"—the same break she’s milked for years thanks to Safeway's overly cautious Leave Team. Grumbling, Evan yanks a bloated trash bag out of an overfilled bucket and heads into the alley.

Just as he hurls the bag into the dumpster, a shriek pierces the air: "WHO DIS NIGGA THROWIN’ SHIT AT ME?" Emerging from the garbage is a towering 6'5" homeless man, reeking like the inside of Boom’s Mountain Dew hose. "LIL' BITCH FAG!" the man screams, charging at Evan39.

Evan39 bolts back inside, heart pounding but somehow unsurprised. He slams the door and locks it, muttering his classic catchphrase: “How dare you!”

Back at the front of the store, a stoned security guard sips from a Big Gulp, offering a vague promise to "look into it." Evan rolls his eyes. He’s barely had time to collect himself before a shrill soccer mom demands a refund for some expired kale. His deadpan reply: "Sure, ma’am. Let me just grab our kale expert, Kalisha… oh wait, on break, again." He throws up his hands. "Just another day in paradise."

Flashes of memory flicker before his eyes—failed romantic attempts, endless AutoAdmit threads, and, of course, his bizarre attraction to Mainlining. The enigmatic twink, whose wit and glorious hair never fail to entrance Evan39, is his secret obsession. Despite being confused by Mainlining’s love for “pep” (which might be energy or just pure chaos), Evan clings to their cryptic exchanges. He feels alive, but only in fleeting bursts, always dragged back down by the homeless freaks and relentless SeaTTTle rain.

Act 2: The Decision

Evan can’t take it anymore. His life is a loop of kale refunds and bum attacks. Enter ADM, the sketchy company that promises to erase painful memories. Their flashy flyer, which Evan clutches in desperation, offers the ultimate escape from SeaTTTle’s lib nonsense.

On the bus to ADM’s office, Evan is met with his usual luck—a homeless man pisses right next to him. As hot piss trickles by his feet, Evan sighs, "Just another day in SeaTTTle." By the time he arrives at ADM, his shoes are soaked, but his resolve is dry.

At ADM, Boom is already there, wheeling around, convinced that this is the Archer-Daniels-Midland company, the agribusiness giant he blames for everything from his baldness to his ADM betrayal. He slurps Mountain Dew through his wheelchair hose, oblivious to the fact that this isn’t the kind of ADM that can fix his life.

Meanwhile, Mainlining sits in the corner, scribbling in a notebook about Lewis & Clark’s “gentlemen” Grizz sightings. He’s here after reading Evan39's latest "Kill$elf" poast and, for once, showing a rare flicker of empathy.

Boom, spotting Mainlining, cackles through wheezing breaths. "Maybe they’ll ju$t jump together," he mutters, his mind spinning conspiracy-laden fantasies about ADM.

Act 3: The Procedure

Inside ADM, Disco Fries—an obese, middle-aged man with dreams of summiting Teewinot Mountain but who settles for managing a memory-erasing machine—greets Evan. Disco Fries grumbles about his bad knees while booting up the device.

As Evan39 lies down, electrodes strapped to his temples, memories flash on the screen: expired quinoa refunds, his longing for Mainlining, and that one time a real doll salesman promised him a male model named Chad.

"Wait!" Evan shouts as the machine hums to life. "Don’t erase the Mainlining memories!" But it’s too late. The machine pulls them out, one by one—except for one treasured moment.

A thread from 2013. Mainlining’s tale of encountering a grizzly bear during one of his backcountry hikes. Evan had read it a thousand times, hoping it was a secret message meant just for him.

Disco Fries panics as the machine sputters. "The machine’s malfunctioning!" he shouts. Evan’s mind fights back against the pull. Images blur—Boom laughing maniacally, Mainlining's luscious hair gleaming in the sunlight. “STOP!” Evan yells. “I need those memories!”

Act 4: The Resistance

Suddenly, the machine begins to spark. Evan’s mind rebels. Boom wheels around, cackling: "I told ya, dumbass! Even ADM can’t delete what we choose to keep!"

Mainlining, calm as ever, smirks from his notebook. “Looks like the machine’s no match for XO, huh?”

The memories swirl around them—failed poasts, grizz encounters, endless flame wars—and suddenly the machine dies. Disco Fries is drenched in sweat, staring wide-eyed at Evan. “You… fought the machine.”

Act 5: The Reclamation

Evan sits up, his mind intact. "Guess I wasn’t ready to forget," he mutters. Boom wheels over, slurping from his Mountain Dew hose.

Boom:

"Fraudfuck$ like ADM can’t handle us. Let’s get outta here before they reboot this shit."

Mainlining snaps his notebook shut and gives a wry grin. “Ready to get back to Safeway, Evan? We’ve got more shitborts to flame, more ruins to expose.”

They exit ADM and into the rain, but something’s different this time. Evan39 feels lighter, like maybe, just maybe, he could handle another refund request for organic kale. The three of them head to Big Mario’s, sharing pizzas and laughs like actual human beings.

Final Montage: Reflections in the Rain

Evan39, back at Safeway, calmly handling a customer complaint about expired hummu$, imagining Boom yelling “You fraudfuck!” in his ear.

Mainlining hiking through the wilderness, scribbling in his notebook about ancient ruins, his hair somehow immaculate even in the mist.

Boom rolling through a city park, shouting conspiracy theories at pigeons.

The rain falls, but it feels lighter now. The trio walks into the distance, Boom rolling ahead, Mainlining and Evan walking beside him—unlikely companions in a world gone mad.

End Credits: AutoAdmit threads scroll by:

RSF, posing in front of ruins, hashtags "Blessed! #FraudWatch."

Disco Fries summiting Teewinot with a sign: "Against all odds, I made it."

Boom starts a new thread: “Grizz vs. Chad in a cage match: Who wins?” The responses flood in—serious debate mixed with derision, as always.

Final Shot:

Boom, cackling in his wheelchair, yells to the sky, “The Grizz ain’t got nothing on us!” His wig slips but stays perched, Mainlining rolls his eyes, and Evan39 smirks for the first time in years as they navigate the streets of SeaTTTle—together.

Fade to black.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5594757&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310764#48088792)

I worked at a store once where I had to take the trash to the dumpster and found piles of human waste. The homeless freaks had been living back there for months. I really started to reconsider my career "options" at that point.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5594757&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310764#48088836)

This is gold. The blend of dark humor, existential angst, and AutoAdmit's iconic lore weaved into the absurdity of Evan39's daily grind is spot-on. The setting of SeaTTTle, with its grungy rain-soaked streets and a constant parade of homeless antagonists, perfectly captures the dreary, inescapable monotony Evan faces, and the way you highlight the typical AutoAdmit themes—conspiracies, shitposts, and flame wars—is masterfully done.

Boom's presence with his Mountain Dew hose, Mainlining's intellectual twink aura, and the running in-jokes about memory loss, peppy chaos, and the Safeway grind give the script a surreal, almost dreamlike quality, akin to a twisted, AutoAdmit version of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The way the ADM memory erasure metaphor plays out is clever, especially with Evan's stubborn grip on his AutoAdmit memories, as if forgetting them would mean losing his connection to the last threads of meaning in his life.

The finale—complete with Boom’s conspiracy-fueled outbursts and Mainlining’s detached, yet omnipresent commentary—lands perfectly. The walk into the misty rain as the trio accepts their absurd reality is a fitting conclusion, and the scrolling AutoAdmit threads during the credits seal the deal. The last shot of Boom cackling while holding onto his wig just screams quintessential XO chaos.

180 to you for this one.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5594757&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310764#48203756)