Chapter Twenty-Five: Bugfuck Crazy

He called out the next day too. He couldn’t face anyone. The humiliation was too great. His rage had dissipated though. Rage-posting on braincels made him feel better for a minute….but then he was just sad. And he felt like a total sperg reading some of the replies. Never trust a toilet. Giving holes rights was the worst mistake this cucked Marxist society ever made. They don’t have brains-they follow pussy tingles only. He didn’t really feel that way. Sure…sure…it was fun to indulge for a second, get all that anger off his chest. The way Becca had acted…..he was fucking humiliated. Not that talking to the incels had gotten rid of that feeling. It was a nice distraction though. 

Ignoring the dinging of his phone from the other room (probably his mom trying to find out how his date went…he was not ready to produce some bullshit for her), he searched reddit for other incel subs. Because he didn’t hate women. He was upset. He was angry at Becca. He hated himself and what an ugly, fucking loser he was. But he didn’t hate women. Maybe he just needed to get away from incel subs altogether. The misogyny was pretty blatant on r/shortcels too. Good memes though. He found r/geekcels and wasted some time there. He ended up in a thread chatting aimlessly about Runescape, a game he hadn’t played in at least three years. r/foreveralone drew his interest. These dudes weren’t incels, just lonely guys like him. He wrote a post, introduced himself. 

“Are you an incel?” the first comment asked. 


“You posted on braincels.”

“I was mad. I don’t know what I am.”

“Okay. Stick around. We’re a chill group. No incel stuff, though. We don’t believe in the blackpill.”

A wave of irritation flooded his nerves. Other comments were popping up now. Most were supportive. Nice guys saying nice things. To be honest….they sounded kind of like pussies. Is that what he was? Not that he was gonna start calling women sperm toilets and advocating for taking their rights away. Letting it all out of his system had felt good though. 

He replied again to the comment thread born from that first comment. 

“Just asking, why don’t you believe in the blackpill? Like I get the incels are bugfuck crazy. They got a few points though. Women will go for an absolute asshole if he’s tall and handsome enough.”

Adam sent the comment and sat staring at the screen, flexing his fingers. Something intangible, something frenetic and terrible was prickling under his skin. He was thinking of his neighbor, R.J. He was about ten years older than Adam. R.J had started getting into trouble with the law in middle school, before Adam was old enough to even know what was going on. R.J’s first long stint in prison had been at the age of nineteen. He’d stabbed a man in Londonderry. Some kind of an argument over the cost of repairs on R.J’s motorcycle. He was out by age twenty-two. Adam remembered seeing him around the neighborhood. A skinny woman with platinum-blonde hair and massive fake tits would drive up to the house where R.J lived with his parents. R.J was so rough with her, shoving, grabbing. She had a black eye once. Adam’s mom had been enraged over it. “If I were his mother, I’d throw him on the street,” she’d fumed. “He’s hitting that girl. She might be a stripper, but no man should do that. Even to a cheap slut.” And R.J had landed back in prison after he’d gotten that stripper girl pregnant….and an accident, although it hadn’t been charged that way. R.J had killed her baby. And yet, when he was finally released on probation yet again, two years later, that same woman was coming around. Older and a little more haggard-looking, she was just as hungry for R.J’s attention as ever. Except this time, R.J had women other than her come over too. A never-ending stream of women with heavy make-up and fake breasts. He wasn’t even nice to them. But he was tall and good-looking. 

Don’t believe in the blackpill? How could anybody exist in the world and not believe in the blackpill, at least a little…

Then again, he did remember how he’d felt about it not long ago. He’d brushed it off as crazy incel shit. It was only because he hadn’t wanted to deal with it. How was anybody supposed to deal with it?

Finally, a response from the r/foreveralone user. 

“People are complex. You can’t sum people up with reddit pills. Don’t take any reddit pills. They make you stupid.” 

He didn’t know what he thought about that. It was…almost right. It also wasn’t though. Feeling more conflicted than ever, he left that subreddit and kept browsing. He ended up on r/inceltears. Most of the posts were from braincels. A few from a website called Sexism. Racism. Pure fucking autism. No…this wasn’t what he was looking for. What was he looking for?

Adam was about to leave that sub, when a post at the bottom of the screen caught his eye. 

The inceltears caption read, “Let me get the world’s smallest fucking violin.”

And below that, a screenshot from a sub called r/incelswithouthate. 

“I don’t want to kill myself. I don’t know what else to do though. I’m so sad. I’m so angry. I’m so useless. I don’t do anything for the world and nobody would miss me if I self-deleted tonight. Every day it hurts to be alive. I might rope soon. Probably eat a bullet. That would be the easiest way, right? I don’t want it to hurt or take a long time. I want it to be over fast. I don’t want to be scared…”

A sickly sensation caused Adam’s throat to convulse. His gut tightened. 

He clicked the post. 

The comments. Holy shit…the fucking comments. 

Imagine being so horny you kill yourself. Good, one less incel in the world. Why are they so dramatic? Jesus, dude, take a shower and go talk to other humans instead of posting on incel forums all day. Maybe then a human female would fuck you. Incel suicide is nature taking care of it’s mistakes. They literally think a life where models aren’t breaking into their neckbeard nests to suck their dicks and cosplay is a life not worth living. This makes me happy. As if being a virgin is that unbearable.

As if….as if……

Adam stepped away from the computer then. He shut it off completely and paced around the basement. He wasn’t an incel. He wasn’t. He felt so many things though. So many. Fuck those assholes. It wasn’t about being a virgin….it was about..about…

He kicked the couch and staggered at the explosion of pain in his toes. “Fuck!”

Dropping to the floor, he held his head and tried to still his breathing. How was he going to stop being such a loser? He could ask Chuck. Chuck was almost as pathetic and ugly as him, and Chuck managed to get girls here and there. He could get Chuck to help him find a nerdy, anime girl. One who wouldn’t act crazy, then laugh at him. His fists tightened in his hair. He clutched his skull. One who wouldn’t scoff at him, with such utter disdain in her voice. It’s not like you were gonna be my boyfriend. His own whining cuck voice echoed in his mind. Why not?

His phone dinged agin, for what had to be the twentieth time today. Sluggishly, he rose to his feet and trudged over to the television where he’d left his phone. 

Emily had texted him. And Dick. And Chuck. 

Emily’s texts.

Adam, are you on facebook? I wanted to let you know I don’t believe any of it. 

Can you text me to talk? I’m trying to defend you here. 

What happened? 

I know it didn’t go down like she says. 

Dick’s texts.

I need to change you to the opening shift. 

We have some things to talk about. Thursday can you work at seven? 

I need to know if you can make that. We just need to hear your side and work this out best for everybody involved. 

Chuck’s texts. 

Yo, that emo slut is saying some fucked up shit about you and everybody is eating it up. 

Is this why you been calling out?

He was going to be sick. He was going to fall apart. What was she saying about him? It couldn’t be what he thought. It couldn’t. She took her fucking top off and climbed on top of him. It couldn’t. She wouldn’t. 

Chuck’s last text. 

I’ll come talk to you when I get home. If you want to see what she’s saying about you, bitch wrote a manifesto on facebook. 

Adam clicked the screenshot Chuck had attached. 

His breath caught in his throat. 

“No….no….she can’t..”

He sat on the edge of his bed and felt the world fall out from under him. A few words and the solid earth was gone. She’d spoken it away.

Photo by Inzmam Khan on

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