Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and fake taxi meme. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “fake taxi meme” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see fake taxi meme come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “fake taxi meme, fake taxi meme, fuck, fake taxi meme!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “fake taxi meme” release.