“I mean it’s obvious right?”

  Nichos’ vacant stare crifies that he has yet to comprehend the nature of this game. Perhaps there is still time to divert the runaway trolley of his life from its misbegotten track, running over his false hope of riches to save his erectile function, which despite being an abstract noun is somehow tied to the lower track. This is possible to do to an intangible concept. Great metaphor, Katherine. You really nailed this one.

  “It really isn’t, Dan. How do you ‘knock someone out’ of a competition about taking hormones, exactly?”

  Right, the rules. Enough specuting about the tangibility of Nichos’ erectile function. For the sake of the metaphor, we will assume it is entirely solid. Rigid and hard, even. Wait. No. Mouth words.

  “It’s simple, really. Competition’s for men, but it keeps attracting a bunch of trans girls,” such as myself, I skillfully maneuver around continuing, “admin can’t keep tabs on everyone who enters, so there’s a standing bounty for exposing any girls in the server.” A foolish rule, of course. The systems of this game are riddled with holes which ought to be pinly evident for anyone paying even an iota of attention.

  Come on, Daniel. There’s no way he doesn’t see the enormous, gring issues with that rule.

  “So what’s preventing me from just. Going to the tribunal channels,” I scroll down, past the ridiculously long leaderboard channel list, past the “strategy” channels, past whatever ‘RLC-legal’ is, and finally click on ‘identity-disputes’. I then continue, “and saying that I know you’re a trans girl in real life?”

  Daniel’s face contorts into a panicked expression like he’s seen a ghost or something. Did he actually skip backwards when I said that? I tilt my head looking at him. “Did you seriously not think about the possibility?”

  “I uh. I mean. It’s. I-”

  Wow. He’s completely in over his head. He has no fucking clue, and I guess everyone else in the competition must be equally clueless. “Don’t tell me this shit’s been going on since the pandemic and nobody’s realized you can just lie?”

  Daniel blinks. Lowers his arms from that martial arts pose he does. Both legs down on the floor again. Ever since he got really into anime when we were twelve, he’s been doing this shit. At least he got rid of the eyepatch.

  “Bro, no,” he leans back against the wall, casually. “Of course we can’t just throw accusations out of nowhere. There’s a process. Evidence has to be gathered, see?”

  The identity disputes channel has an active thread. The subject is an active user in the chat, who’s had something to say in every channel I’ve had time to check. Username Mike, Master of Mammaries. Highest score of the 2023-Q4 leaderboard, and top ten in the all-time board. His profile picture is an anime girl leaning forwards, groping her chest while wearing a shirt that says “MEGA” something on it. The thread is a heated argument between Mike and another user from the same quarter. Username Isaacahedron. Second highest ranked 2023-Q4 pyer, profile picture’s… definitely AI.

  IsaacahedronGirl, you’re not even trying to hide outside the server at this point. It’s so obvious.

  Mike, Master of Mammariesgetting pretty sick of repeating myself tbh bestie

  IsaacahedronI’m not your bestie, worstie. I’m here to take you down. Presenting new evidence: The fanfics.

  The fanfic looks like it’s about an incomprehensible stickman comic, and the plot is the horniest portrayal of a sword fight I’ve ever read.

  “The prose is a bit much,” Daniel comments as he leans on my shoulder to read along. “Not a huge fan of pointlessly big words and long-winded sentences.”

  Mike, Master of Mammariesmen write fanfic. next.

  IsaacahedronThat’s your defense? It’s a trans comic.

  Mike, Master of Mammariesit's a leftist discourse webcomic

  IsaacahedronTrans discourse. Author’s a trans woman. I checked. Not only are you presenting as a trans woman online using “optimal RLC strats” as an excuse, but you’re also completely integrated into the trans community. Of the accounts you follow, 80% of them are trans.

  Mike, Master of Mammaries80% of bfly’s users are trans lmao weak bait tbqh

  IsaacahedronYou have multiple high-engagement posts about trans women’s issues citing personal, lived experience.

  Mike, Master of Mammariesim a cis man who’s transfeminized within a patriarchal system and subjected to transmisogyny. doesn’t mean im a woman. read theory, stemcel.

  IsaacahedronThe case remains that there’s no reasonable RLC benefit to operating a trans woman account on social media. Admit it, Michelle. You’re a woman. Unless you are able to provide some justification for this ridiculous degree of commitment.

  Mike, Master of Mammariesfirst off my rlc cover name’s ura. second im in it to get data on the prog meta. most tgirls cant do adipose noclip skip exploits so there on the same challenge run as us

  I close Accord before the words get a chance to start hurting me.

  “Daniel. What the fuck was that meant to demonstrate,” Nichos excims after recoiling in horror. The Master of Mammaries is a known cognitohazard of the server, yet his is a compelling case to demonstrate the proceedings of the tribunal channels.

  Furthermore, exposure to the horrors of the server is endowed with purpose twofold: Distraction and intimidation. A masterful gambit, to compensate for my previous failure. Of course Nichos has not seen through my utterly fwless portrayal of a heterosexual cisgender man taking hormones for ulterior motives. Of course. And now, having been overwhelmed by its culture, he will swiftly turn away.

  “I’m showing there’s a standard for evidence, dipshit. There’re procedures. An accusation’s not enough, you gotta convince the tribunal.” And the tribunal is a group of men who believe that competing for money by taking hormones for years is a reasonable thing to attempt, such as Nichos himself. I leave out the implicit condemnation of his ridiculous ideas, to spare him the humiliation.

  He does not appear convinced. “I just… What was his defense, even? What’s is ‘RLC’? What do any of these words even mean?”

  Context clues are evidently insufficient for him to operate with. Condoning this great personal failing of his, on the basis of our long-established friendship, I deign to eborate for his sake.

  “Real Life Cover.”

  “Bro. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

  “It’s what the competitive breast growth scene calls the cover stories we use for, you know, growing titties out of nowhere. Gotta be prepared, just in case. It’s that or wear a hoodie all the time, and dude, heatstroke is BAD for keeping up with growth targets.”

  Nichos appears to be struggling. “And… Mike’s cover… is to pretend he’s a trans woman.”

  It is indeed a ridiculous scheme. The Master of Mammaries proposes something that is clearly a fool’s errand: Fleeing from scrutiny over his budding breasts through commitment to the hyperscrutinized life of an early-transition trans woman, a strategy somewhat akin to repairing a leaky drain by burning down one’s entire house. And then irradiating it. With radioactive isotopes or something.

  Truly, only a man could cook up a harebrained ploy this detached from the realities of trans womanhood. Ironically, in his complete failure to understand what it is to be a trans woman, Michael has engineered a cover which instantly erases all doubt of his manhood- wait.

  It’s brilliant.

  “Yeah dude, it’s a perfect cover,” I expin to him.

  “Trans women have it so easy, it’s basically a free pass to get away with anything.”