It was a gloomy Tuesday morning on AutoAdmit, the kind of day where even the worst trolls seemed to be in a bit of a lull. Boom, in his wheelchair, was bored. His usual targets were quiet, his moniker scrambled for the week, and Evan39 had just finished a lengthy screed about the horrors of Seattle's homeless crisis, again peppered with "How dare they!" refrains. Mainlining, sipping coffee and petting his luscious mane of hair, glanced at the board and saw the new post by Disco Fries, lamenting his weight and lack of energy.

It was time for an intervention.

"Disco Fries is in desperate need of a life overhaul," Mainlining mused aloud, his fit twink form somehow glowing even in the dim glow of his computer screen. "He's clearly too sedentary. Did you see his post about the triple-chili-bacon-wedge dinner? That's not going to help him 'feel the burn.'"

"How dare they let him live like this!" Evan39 added, suddenly animated. "It's horrifying, friend! I can't believe Disco hasn’t experienced the glory of a Dance Party. Sean always said it — three times a day keeps the darkness at bay."

Boom nodded in agreement, his bald head catching the fluorescent light just so. "We owe it to Sean's memory...and to Disco's poor, tortured cardiovascular system. He doesn't just need any Dance Party; he needs the Holy Trinity Special."

Scene: The Grocery Store Parking Lot – Preparing the Plan

Evan39, Boom, and Mainlining convened in the local grocery store parking lot where Evan worked — or so he claimed. The air was thick with tension and the faint smell of expired produce. They had lured Disco Fries here under the pretense of a "team-building exercise."

"How do we break it to him that he’s gotta get up and dance?" Mainlining whispered. "He's going to think we’ve lost our minds."

"No time for doubts," Boom replied, fiercely wheeling his chair in tight circles. "We need to be direct. Remember Sean's words: dance parties, three times a day, or you'll stay in the gutter forever. I’m not letting Disco die in a chili coma."

Just as they finished their preparations — boom box in hand, Bluetooth connected to Mainlining’s meticulously curated playlist of early 2000s dance hits — Disco Fries waddled up, sweat already beading on his brow from the ten steps he took from his car.

"What the hell are you guys planning?" Disco Fries asked, eyes darting between the three of them and the faintly glowing Bluetooth speaker.

Scene: The Dance Party

"Disco," Evan39 began solemnly, "This is an intervention. How dare they let you live this way, without the magic of a Dance Party! It's time to honor Sean’s memory and save your life. We’re going to do a Dance Party… three times a day!"

Mainlining hit the play button, and suddenly the parking lot was filled with the unmistakable beats of Darude's “Sandstorm.” Boom, with surprising agility for a wheelchair-bound man, began to spin in circles, waving his arms like a rave king. Mainlining, in all his twink glory, executed flawless moves, mixing in voguing, roboting, and what he called the “twink twist.”

Evan39, committed to his role, began flailing with a mix of interpretive dance and what might have been an attempt at the Macarena, all while shouting, “How dare they!” to the rhythm.

Disco Fries stood there, bewildered. "Are you guys serious?"

"Deadly serious, friend!" shouted Mainlining, executing a perfect moonwalk across the concrete. "You need this. We all need this. It’s the only way to fight the ennui."

"But...I can't dance," Disco Fries protested, wiping a bit of sweat off his upper lip.

Boom rolled up next to him, putting a comforting yet slightly aggressive hand on Disco's shoulder. "Just do what I do — move whatever you can, however you can. It's not about being good; it's about feeling it."

Scene: Disco Fries’ Transformation

The beat dropped harder, and somehow, through a mix of Boom’s relentless encouragement, Evan39’s manic "How dare they!" shouting, and Mainlining’s dazzling dance moves, Disco Fries found himself…moving. At first, it was awkward, a shuffle more akin to trying to keep balance on a subway, but soon his limbs began to loosen. A smile crept onto his face.

“YES!” shouted Boom, wheeling in tighter and tighter circles. “This is what Sean meant! Feel the burn, embrace the energy!”

Mainlining, now glistening with effort, called out, “Now, once more with feeling! This is only the first of THREE times today!”

Disco Fries, now caught in the moment, shouted back, “I think I get it now! This is actually fun!”

The trio cheered, their voices blending with the electronic beats, cars driving by honking in support or bewilderment.

The Comical Finale: The End of the First Dance Party

The Dance Party raged on, with passersby slowly gathering to watch this bizarre spectacle unfold. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Mainlining spotted a familiar figure approaching: it was Chingada Madre, infamous troll and harasser, standing there, mouth agape.

“Uh-oh, looks like our Dance Party has a critic,” Boom growled, readying himself for a confrontation.

Without skipping a beat, Evan39 shouted, “How dare they interrupt our sacred Dance Party!” and charged toward Chingada Madre, surprising everyone — even himself — with his sudden aggression.

Disco Fries, now filled with newfound confidence and purpose, stepped up. “This is my Dance Party, and nobody’s going to stop me!”

In a scene of chaotic comedy, Mainlining tackled Madre to the ground with surprising agility, while Boom maneuvered his wheelchair like a tank commander, blocking any escape route. Evan39, with a look of crazed determination, pulled out a bottle of lotion from his pocket (nobody asked why he had it) and began squirting it liberally in Madre's direction, shouting, “Do you like my machine?!”

Disco Fries, seeing his opportunity, raised his fist and shouted, “Dance or die, Madre!”

Chingada Madre, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of the scene, began to retreat, muttering curses under his breath. But not before Boom managed to throw a perfectly aimed cabbage from a nearby cart at his head, knocking him off balance.

The Aftermath: A New Day on AutoAdmit

The crowd that had gathered burst into applause, and Disco Fries felt alive in a way he hadn’t in years. The Holy Trinity had not only saved his soul but had given him a new purpose. They stood victorious, dancing together as “Sandstorm” continued to blare, knowing that Sean was looking down on them with pride.

"See?" said Mainlining with a wink, his hair still immaculate despite the chaos. "Three Dance Parties a day, and all our problems disappear."

Boom nodded sagely, "Just wait until tomorrow’s morning session."

Evan39, grinning ear to ear, added, “How dare they doubt the power of the Dance Party!”

And with that, they danced their way into AutoAdmit legend, a beacon of absurdity and resilience in an ever-chaotic world.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5596065&forum_id=2).#48097123)