The Good Incel

Adrien Carver
4 min readFeb 10, 2019

A young man was taking a trip from Chicago to Detroit. He stopped at a McDonald’s along the I-94 corridor for a pee and a quick bite. The McDonald’s was outside Battle Creek and quite the shithole. It was dark and rainy.

The young man saw the guys at the counter when he came out of the bathroom and knew they might be trouble. He went right to his car but they followed him out. One pulled a gun.

He was stripped, beaten and robbed. They left him on the side of the road, took his car back to their headquarters and stripped that, too.

The man lay there, unconscious, in the cold rain.

The first person to come along was a liberal activist. She parked her Prius in the parking lot and got out and saw the guy in the ditch.

She was squeamish at the sight of blood, and almost dry heaved at the man’s battered face. She stumbled away.

“I was never here,” she thought. “Best not to get involved. He’s probably just drunk anyway. Plus he’s a white male so he probably did something to deserve it in the first place. Fucking white males…”

The second person to come along was a Evangelical Christian. He parked his SUV in the parking lot and got out and saw the guy in the ditch.

At first he thought the guy was a mannequin that someone had thrown off the side of the road, but upon realizing it was an actual person, he bailed.

“I was never here,” he thought. “The guy did something to get there… probably on drugs. What a hassle it would be, and would I be brought in as a suspect? It would be best to not get involved. I’m sure Jesus will forgive me. I don’t want to blow any money on a lawyer. Christmas is coming…”

He said a prayer that the guy in the ditch would get his life together.

The third person to come along was an incel. He was a wreck of a young man, bitter and angry at the world, with terrible bone structure and already balding at 27. All he wanted was to get home so he could log onto XBox live and finish Red Dead Redemption 2, masturbate to camgirls on MFC and fall asleep in his own mess.

He parked his 10 year old Civic in the parking lot and got out and saw the guy in the ditch.

Adrenaline rushed. There was no way something so interesting was actually happening to him.

He walked over to the man, feet squishing in the wet ground. The cold rain misted in his hair and eyelashes. He was pretty sure the guy in the ditch was dead. But he pulled out his iPhone and turned on the flashlight and held it over the guy’s nose and saw the guy’s breath fog in the night air.

“Holy fuck,” the incel said out loud. He’d just discovered an attempted murder victim. Years before, he’d harbored a brief ambition to go into criminal justice. Maybe this was the universe telling him that would be a good idea after all.

For a second the incel was too excited to do anything except stand there and think of what a big deal he could become if he pulled off this ambition successfully. Then those triflin-ass bitches would come flocking for sure. Cops and federal agents got laid all the time.

Collecting himself, the incel dialed 911. As he told the dispatcher of his discovery and whereabouts, he pulled a mat out from his garbage pit of a car, shook the dust and crumbs and dirt off it as best he could, and used it to cover the guy from the cold wind and rain. He sat down next to the guy as the dispatcher gave instructions not to move the victim.

“Can I talk to him at least?” the incel asked. “You know, in case he can hear me? Give positive vibes or whatever?”

“If you want,” said the dispatcher, who was already tired of talking to the incel.

“Sorry, bud, people are fuckin’ animals,” the incel said to the guy. “Don’t worry, though. I got help choppering in. You’re gonna make it. We’ll get you back up and running in no time.”

The man was barely aware of the incel, but he shifted under the mat. The incel poured some vodka he had on the man’s bloodied hands, cleaning them. He tried to give the guy a shot but the guy wasn’t up to it.

The incel stayed on the line with 911 until the paramedics arrived.

He got his picture on a bunch of news articles. He’d never received so much positive attention in his life. Everyone liked the incel and called him a hero until he started talking about women’s inherent duplicity and their inability to be appreciative of the reality men facilitate for them.

However, his brief popularity lasted long enough for several young women to think he was cute despite his misguided frustrations and misogyny. They reached out to him via social media. He ended up hanging out with a couple of the girls, nervous as fuck. They were kind and interesting and they inspired him to modify his behavior. Then he ended up banging one of the girls, which made him no longer an incel. So it all worked out.