Bari Weiss, Western U.S. Regional Reporter

7:00 AM – "Awake and Revved Up"

Boom jolts awake in his rundown Omaha apartment, his brain working in short-circuited spurts like a malfunctioning $lot machine." Every morning is like coming back from the dead—probably because of that time ADM "did him dirty." He's never quite sure whether today is the day his brain finally decides to tap out. But then again, Boom's brain already called it quits years ago, so what’s one more day of fighting through the fog?

He peers down at his wheelchair—pimped out, of course, with chromed rims, a sound system that blasts early 2000s hip-hop, and neon lights under the frame. A tribute to his gangster days—at least in his mind. If ADM hadn’t ruined him, he’s certain he’d still be running the streets, probably a multi-millionaire by now.

Damn them. His bald head gleams under the dim morning light, the result of years of stress—or maybe just genetics—but it only adds to the legend.

Boom shifts uncomfortably, the diaper underneath his pants reminding him of yet another casualty of what ADM did to him. "Can't even tru$t my own body anymore," he mutters. But hey, when you’ve mastered poasting from a pimped-out wheelchair, you’ve earned the right to skip bathroom breaks.

He rolls over (figuratively), throws on his tattered “FUCK ADM” shirt, and contemplates the day ahead. It’s tough being a mastermind when your brain’s in a constant power-saving mode, but someone has to do it.

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8:00 AM – "Breakfast of Champion$"

The kitchen is filled with the clanging of pots, as Boom makes the closest thing to gourmet—an egg sandwich. As he shoves it into his mouth, crumbs falling everywhere, he logs onto AutoAdmit to fire off his first poast of the day.

It’s the usual: an incoherent rant about homelessness, urban decay, and why everyone is “a f**king lib$” except for him. Somewhere in the chaos, he manages to throw in a reference to a grizzly bear story, just because.

He leans back, admiring his handiwork. 180s roll in. Boom is validated. He’s still got it.

Somewhere, though, in the back of his mind—or is it the front?—Boom feels the itch. The subtle nagging voice of Mainlining and Evan39 whispering, each of them surfacing at random, pushing Boom into new directions as if they’re all somehow...connected.

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10:00 AM – "The Daily Grind"

Time to head out. Boom’s neighborhood is the kind of place where dreams go to die, but he insists it’s the heart of the real world.

With his trusty baseball bat firmly grasped, he roll$ down the street in his tricked-out wheelchair, heads turn—either in admiration, confusion, or...fear.

It’s hard to tell, but Boom assumes it’s admiration. He’s a legend in these streets, after all.

"ADM did this to me," he mutters as a homeless man tries to strike up a conversation. Boom doesn’t have time for that today. He’s on a mi$$ion: to visit the local library and once again read up on how to sue ADM for everything they’ve got. They ruined his life, and if there’s one thing Boom knows, it’s that revenge is a dish best served cold and possibly in a small claims court.

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12:00 PM – "AutoAdmit: Part 2"

Back at home, Boom logs back into the board. It’s time for some trolling. He hits up Mainlining and Evan39, as usual. His poast? “Evan39, you're lied to& cheated out of your life then laughed at.” A classic, really.

Mainlining chimes in with some bear trivia, citing a recent Montana newspaper account of a bear having become addicted to "pep," and the trio dive into an absurd back-and-forth about society’s decline, their shared misery, and who is the better bottom in SeaTTTle's underground gay scene.

But somewhere, deep down, Boom knows—there is no trio. They are all him. Mainlining, with his perfect hair and intellectual edge, is just a more polished version of Boom, while Evan39, the bottom who trolls Seattle’s dark corners, is the lonely, bitter part of himself he hides behind the façade of control. Boom chuckles to himself; if anyone ever figured it out, would they care? Probably not. It’s AutoAdmit. Everyone’s a character.

Disco Fries drops by with a quip about Boom’s brain damage. Boom isn’t even offended—it's just part of the game. And let’s face it, after what ADM did to him, Boom has bigger problems than Disco Fries' banter.

He types out a quick response: “How dare you!!!” It’s all part of the shtick. The dark humor masks the fact that, deep down, Boom still blames ADM for everything—his wheelchair, his bald head, his diaper, his brain damage, even his limited success at trolling RSF into submission. He’ll get them one day, he swears.

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3:00 PM – "Afternoon MelTTTdown"

It’s time for Boom’s daily meltdown. Like clockwork, it arrives, and the source is always the same: a poaster on AutoAdmit who claims Boom’s pimped-out wheelchair is just a sad attempt at staying relevant.

Boom loses it.

“FAGBSHEEP NO IDEA WHAT ADM DID&Does! Sad"

His fingers tremble as he hits the ‘Poast’ button. There. That’ll teach them. But the reality is that it’s Boom versus the world—and the world doesn’t care. Except for his wheelchair. That, at least, still turns heads. The neon lights under the frame flicker as he shifts in his seat, the slight crinkle of his diaper a reminder of yet another battle he’s lost to ADM. But Boom? Boom’s still fighting.

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5:00 PM – "Dinner and Delusions of Grandeur"

Dinner is a sad affair: leftover "pep" from the local gas station favorite Kum & Go and a warm Big Gulp.

Boom doesn’t need fine dining. He’s too busy planning his next move. Tomorrow, he’ll hit ADM with another LOLsuit. He’ll prove to the world that his brain damage is their fault. And maybe, just maybe, one of their facilities will magically blow up, as they have been over the past few years.

He’ll become a symbol of resistance, maybe even a hero. Who knows, he might even make it onto the news.

Until then, there’s work to do. He drafts another poast for AutoAdmit, this one filled with half-baked conspiracy theories about why ADM and the libs are secretly working together to destroy men like him. He’s halfway through a rant about Evan39 being a pawn in this grand scheme, but his brain fogs over, and suddenly, the words don’t make sense anymore.

It’s fine. He’ll poast it anyway. Someone will get it. Or maybe Mainlining will respond. Boom can always count on Mainlining to back him up, but deep down, even Boom knows that response is just another version of himself, echoing back what he needs to hear. It’s all one in the same, after all.

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8:00 PM – "The Night Crew and the Fade"

As darkness falls, Boom logs onto the graveyard shift of AutoAdmit—the Nightcrew. These are his people. The ones who understand the blend of brain damage, pimped-out wheels, a festering hatred for ADM, and the subtle whispers of multiple personalities. He fires off a final poast before bed: “Just Jump. You know who you are.”

Satisfied, Boom rolls back to his bed, ensuring his CPAP is secure. The lights on his wheelchair flicker one last time as he drifts off. Tomorrow will be more of the same—more brain damage, more AutoAdmit trolling, and one day closer to taking down ADM.

In the corner of his mind, Evan39 is already planning his next move. Mainlining whispers something about bears.

And Boom? Boom drifts off with the faintest smirk on his face. He might be broken, but he’ll be damned if he’s beaten.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5605679&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310919",#48158427)