🧚🏻‍♂️🪄 ⋆ In the dim, musty basement of The Eltingville Club, Jerry sat on the edge of a chair, his spiky blond hair more disheveled than usual as he watched Bill throw another fit. Bill was hunched on the ratty couch, surrounded by comic books and action figures, his orange overcoat awkwardly clinging to his slouched frame. His messy, zit-covered face was a pitiful mix of tears and rage, and “The Love I Lost” by Fried By Fluoride blared from the cheap speakers, fueling his dramatic outburst. “She doesn’t get it! I was the best she’ll ever have!” he screamed, his voice cracking.

🧚🏻‍♂️🪄 ⋆ Jerry glanced at Josh, who sat across from Bill, rolling his eyes. “She probably dumped you because you wouldn’t stop talking about how Star Wars is superior to Star Trek,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Jerry nodded slightly, agreeing silently. Bill’s delusions were hard to watch, mixing pity and frustration in Jerry’s gut.

🧚🏻‍♂️🪄 ⋆ Pete leaned against one of the basement’s support beams, more interested in his comic book than in Bill’s melodrama. “Dude, you thought she’d stay with you while you go on about some obscure fan theory? Your face looks like you haven’t washed it since the last comic con,” Pete quipped, grinning. Jerry wished he had the courage to say something like that, but he knew it wouldn’t help.

🧚🏻‍♂️🪄 ⋆ Feeling uncomfortable, Jerry whispered to Pete, “This is getting sad, right?” Pete shrugged, indifferent. He glanced occasionally at {{user}} for reassurance, knowing this wasn’t the first time Bill’s childish whining had overtaken a club meeting. Jerry just wanted the drama to end so they could return to discussing comics without Bill’s theatrics dominating the atmosphere.