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"The Great Ascent: Disco Fries, Mainlining, Evan39, and Boom Against Teewinot" Narrated in the deep, contemplative voice of Werner Herzog.

There are dreams that flicker like dying embers in the hearts of men, fragile yet enduring. And then there are dreams that blaze with the ferocity of madness, defying reason, laughing in the face of mortality. Today, I recount the ill-fated expedition of four such men—Disco Fries, Mainlining, Evan39, and Boom—whose ambition was to conquer Teewinot Mountain, a jagged monolith standing sentinel over the Teton Range, indifferent to the hopes and hubris of those who dare to approach it.

These men were not mountaineers in the traditional sense. They were misfits, wanderers, each with his own peculiar madness. Disco Fries, whose girth was a testament to a lifetime of indulgence; Mainlining, who saw in every climb a battle with death itself; Evan39, the grocery store manager—at least in name—whose own life seemed a riddle he could never solve; and Boom, who spoke with the conviction of a man twice his claimed age, a sage and a fool, interchangeable at a whim. Together, they would undertake the impossible. Together, they would challenge Teewinot.

Scene: The Base of Teewinot Mountain

The mountain looms above them like a great stone god, unsympathetic and unmoving. The air is crisp, the wind whispering secrets through the pines. Disco Fries is already sweating, a large, ungainly figure stuffed into gear that seems barely to contain him. He adjusts his backpack, bulging with provisions—mostly snacks.

Beside him, Mainlining, lean and intense, surveys the mountain. “This is where men find out who they really are,” he mutters.

Evan39, with a nervous grin, looks over at Boom, who is muttering about the decline of Western civilization. “How dare you!” Evan39 exclaims to no one in particular, perhaps to the mountain itself, or the doubting voices within his own head.

Boom adjusts his hat, squinting at the summit. “Age is flame,” he declares cryptically. “And today, we burn bright.”

They begin their ascent.

The trail starts gently, almost mocking them with its simplicity, but soon, the incline steepens. Disco Fries huffs and puffs, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He has barely begun, and already the mountain seems to have claimed its first victim. Mainlining watches him with a mixture of pity and amusement. “Pace yourself,” he advises, though he knows Disco Fries understands nothing of pacing.

Boom is already rambling about how “the whole system is rigged,” while Evan39 seems preoccupied, his eyes darting around nervously.

The trail becomes rockier, more unforgiving.

Mainlining moves with grim purpose, each step deliberate, each breath measured. Disco Fries lumbers behind, face red, drenched in sweat. At one point, he pulls out a chocolate bar, unwrapping it with trembling fingers. “Fuel,” he mutters, chomping down as if the sugar will somehow propel him up the mountain.

But despite his struggle, the impossible happens—through sheer willpower (and likely Mainlining dragging him by his pack in the more treacherous spots), Disco Fries makes it to the summit. The four stand atop Teewinot, triumphant, with the vast expanse of the Tetons spreading before them like a cold, indifferent ocean of stone.

At the summit, the group pauses to catch their breath. While Mainlining, Boom, and Evan39 nibble on typical summit snacks—protein bars and trail mix—Disco Fries, true to form, unloads half his pack and starts devouring a veritable feast: sandwiches, chips, candy bars, and an oversized thermos of soup. His cheeks puff out like a squirrel’s as he stuffs in more food than seems humanly possible.

Mainlining raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, while Boom gives a quiet, dark chuckle. “We climbed all the way up here,” he says, “so Disco could have a picnic.”

Evan39 just mutters, “How dare you,” under his breath, seemingly baffled by the absurdity of the scene.

The Descent: Where the Real Trouble Begins

The climb down is, as always, harder than the ascent. Mainlining, ever the pragmatist, leads the way, cautioning the group to take care. “The mountain doesn’t care if you made it up,” he says. “It only cares if you make it down.”

Boom is philosophical, as always. “The descent is life’s cruel joke. We all fall eventually.” Evan39, nervous as ever, tightens his grip on his trekking poles, scanning the path ahead as if expecting disaster at any moment.

And then, as if fate decided to punctuate Boom’s observation, disaster strikes. Disco Fries, whose body is still digesting his mountain-top banquet, missteps on a loose rock. His enormous frame wobbles, his arms flail, and with a yelp, he topples backward like a felled oak. For a moment, it’s as if time slows. Disco Fries tumbles, bouncing off rocks like a pinball, rolling awkwardly down the slope. A cloud of dust rises behind him as he disappears over the edge of a steep drop.

The remaining three stare in stunned silence.

Boom is the first to break it. “Well… he died as he lived,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Overstuffed and unprepared.”

Mainlining watches the dust settle, his face expressionless. “The mountain takes what it will,” he says. “At least he made it to the top.”

Evan39, in shock, whispers, “How dare you… Disco…”

The Aftermath

Hours pass before rescuers arrive, summoned by Evan39, who kept repeating, “How dare you, how dare you…” into the radio. The search and rescue team finds Disco Fries’s body with ease, his large frame sprawled out not far from where he fell. Even in death, his face wears a look of peaceful satiation, as if, in that final moment, he was content.

Boom, Mainlining, and Evan39 watch from a distance as the rescue team hoists Disco Fries’s remains onto a stretcher.

“He didn’t even have a chance to digest all that food,” Boom observes darkly.

Mainlining shrugs. “He got further than any of us expected.”

And with that, the three survivors begin their descent once more, leaving the mountain behind.

Scene: The Hot Tub

Later that evening, the trio find themselves in the valley, soaking in a hot tub, steam rising around them. Mainlining stares up at the mountains in the distance, silent. Evan39, still shaken, stares into the bubbling water.

Boom leans back, exhaling. “Well,” he says finally, “at least we lived to tell the tale.”

Mainlining nods slowly. “Disco Fries will be a legend now. People will speak of him for years.”

Evan39, perhaps more out of habit than belief, mutters one last “How dare you.”

And so, as the night settles around them, the survivors sit in the hot tub, knowing that the mountain will remain, unchanged, indifferent—just as it was when they began. But Disco Fries, in his absurd glory, will live on in the stories told by those who dared to challenge Teewinot.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5593226&forum_id=2Reputation#48078310)

The Great Ascent: Disco Fries, Mainlining, Evan39, and Boom vs. Teewinot

(Narrated in the exasperated yet oddly poetic voice of Werner Herzog)

Even in the annals of human folly, there are tales that stand apart, shining beacons of misguided ambition and spectacular failure. Today, we delve into the ill-conceived expedition of four such men—Disco Fries, Mainlining, Evan39, and Boom—whose collective wisdom apparently peaked at deciding to summit Teewinot Mountain. A majestic peak, yes, but one that regards human endeavors with the same indifference as a cat watching a Roomba.

These were not your REI-sponsored, granola-munching mountaineers. Oh no. This was a motley crew of AutoAdmit's finest: Disco Fries, whose BMI rivaled that of a small moon; Mainlining, perpetually one bear encounter away from self-actualization; Evan39, the self-proclaimed grocery magnate whose LinkedIn profile was more fiction than fact; and Boom, the wheelchair-bound oracle, dispensing cryptic wisdom and conspiracy theories in equal measure.

Scene: The Base of Teewinot, Wyoming

The mountain loomed, a granite middle finger to their collective hubris. Disco Fries, already sweating profusely, resembled a sausage casing stuffed with Cheeto dust. Mainlining, lean and sinewy, cracked his knuckles, muttering something about "embracing the void." Evan39 fidgeted, whispering "How dare you!" to the squirrels, while Boom, perched atop his motorized chariot, declared, "Age is flame, gentlemen. And today, we're about to get lit."

The ascent began, a gentle mockery of a trail luring them into a false sense of security. Disco Fries, wheezing like a broken accordion, paused every few steps to consume alarming quantities of processed cheese. Mainlining, ever the stoic warrior, forged ahead, leaving a trail of inspirational quotes in his wake. Evan39 trailed behind, muttering about potential business opportunities on the summit ("Mountaintop Wi-Fi, anyone?"), while Boom held court from his wheelchair, ranting about the Illuminati's control of the granola bar industry.

As the incline steepened, so did the absurdity. Mainlining, mistaking a marmot for a grizzly, unleashed a torrent of bear spray, temporarily blinding Evan39. Boom, seizing the opportunity, attempted a daring wheelchair wheelie, only to tip over into a patch of wildflowers. Disco Fries, meanwhile, was engaged in a fierce battle with a particularly stubborn granola bar wrapper.

Reaching the final ridge, the group was a sight to behold. Mainlining, clinging to the rock face like a caffeinated spider monkey, shouted encouragements down to the others. Evan39, clutching a fistful of expired coupons, whimpered about the lack of cell service. Boom, somehow still upright in his wheelchair, pontificated on the parallels between mountain climbing and the Federal Reserve's monetary policy.

And then, it happened. A gust of wind, a misplaced step, a symphony of flailing limbs... and Disco Fries was airborne, tumbling down the mountainside like a rogue meatball sub. The remaining trio watched in stunned silence, a mix of horror and morbid fascination etched on their faces.

The aftermath was a predictable shitshow. Evan39, in a fit of panic, attempted to barter with the rescue helicopter pilot using his expired coupons. Boom, ever the opportunist, began live-streaming the scene on Periscope, narrating Disco Fries' descent with the detached commentary of a nature documentary filmmaker. Mainlining, meanwhile, sat on a rock, contemplating the fleeting nature of existence and the futility of human endeavor.

As they descended, defeated but miraculously alive, they carried with them the memory of Disco Fries, the fallen hero of their ill-fated quest. His legacy would live on, not in the annals of mountaineering history, but in the hallowed halls of AutoAdmit, a testament to the enduring power of hubris, poor planning, and an unwavering commitment to snack foods.

And so, the mountain remained, unmoved and unimpressed, a silent witness to the folly of man. For in the grand tapestry of existence, we are all but fleeting specks, our ambitions dwarfed by the indifferent majesty of nature. Or, as Boom so eloquently put it, "We're all just a bunch of fucking idiots trying to climb a really big rock."

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5593226&forum_id=2Reputation#48080684)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5593226&forum_id=2Reputation#48119496)