A Senior Partner, one of the ancient ones with eye$ like faded legal pads, sat across from me.

He didn't smile.

"We've had our 'eyes' on you for some time now, 'Evan,'" he began, his voice as sterile as the polished mahogany between us.

"It seems you've been living two lives. In one life, you're a Senior Equity Partner at one of the most preftigious firms in the Pacific Northwest. You have a 401(k), you pay your crippling taxes, and you... patiently explain complex litigation strategy to our most demanding client$."

He paused, letting the silence hang in the air.

"The other life is lived on the 'forums.' Where you go by the monikers 'Evan39' and some diapered, brain-damaged fool "Boom." There, you are guilty of virtually every computer crime we have a policy for: terminal self-pity, leaking narratives of workplace despair, and associating with known agents of chaos. One of these lives has a future, Evan. One of them does not."

"I'm going to be as forthcoming as I can be. You're here because we need your help. We know you've been contacted by a certain individual. A poaster who calls himself... 'Mainlining'".

He slid a printout across the table. It was one of Mainlining's poasts about The Mahchine™.

"Whatever you think you know about this man is irrelevant," the Partner continued, his gaze unwavering. "He is considered by many on the Executive Committee to be the most unproductive influence on Firm morale. My colleagues believe I am wasting my time. But I believe you wish to do the right thing. We are willing to wipe the slate clean. A transfer to our new Boise office, perhaps. A fre$h start. And all we ask in return is your cooperation in bringing this... unproductive cycle of negativity to an end."

The cursor on his laptop blinked. The rain pattered against the glass. I could see my own reflection, pale and tired.

This is fine.

(https://xoxohth.com/thread.php?thread_id=5746353&forum_id=2#49073491)