Pinball And The Narcissist: Purgatory in the Arcade

A pinball machine hums in the dark, and a triangle of friends begins to crack under the weight of charm, money, and whispered control. We share a true-to-core, dramatized story about Malik, a collector who stages not just rooms but relationships, Kaiser, the quiet shadow who keeps the loop running, and Eloise, the friend who learns to read flattery as a warning sign. What starts as nostalgia—haunted gems, Pee-wee memorabilia, neon arcades—turns into a blueprint of manipulation: love bombing in public, pressure in private, and “guidance” that slowly erases choice.

Across the episode, we unpack how attention becomes currency for a narcissist, why generosity can be weaponized, and how rituals and symbols may disguise a simple hunger for influence. Eloise’s spirituality is mirrored back at her until she names the trick and steps away. That decision—silence instead of spectacle—shifts the power dynamic more than any confrontation could. The arcade needs witnesses; without them, the lights dim, the story loses voltage, and obsession eats itself. Kaiser’s role becomes the heartache at the center: the friend who nearly escapes, the life pulled back by promises of predictability.

This is a moody, unflinching look at gaslighting, trauma bonds, and the psychology of control, wrapped in the flashing language of pinball and collection culture. If you’ve ever wondered whether a gift has strings, whether a compliment hides a ledger, or why it’s so hard to leave a loop that feels familiar, this story offers both recognition and relief. Press play to explore the red flags, the rituals, and the exit. Then tell us: which moment made you see the pattern?

If the story resonates, follow the show, leave a review, and share it with someone who needs a nudge toward the door marked “out.”

Chapters

• 0:00 Setup And Story Ground Rules
• 1:13 Enter Malik And Kaiser
• 2:44 Eloise Senses The Pattern
• 4:21 Love Bombing And Control
• 6:02 Business Deals And Power Plays
• 8:25 Public Generosity Private Pressure
• 10:39 Manipulation Branded As Guidance
• 13:24 Rituals Coins And Mocked Beliefs
• 16:10 Seeds Of Isolation Take Root
• 19:05 The Vanish And The Lurker
• 21:00 Collections As Staged Control
• 23:00 Silence As Resistance
• 25:10 Loop Restored Puppet Strings Pulled
• 25:12 Note: Ensure timestamps within duration
• 27:45 Descent Into Purgatory
• 29:30 Pinball Coffin And Final Twist

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:31

Good evening. Welcome back to Strange Strange Beyond Insane. And this is your host, Melissa. And what you heard in the beginning, that is an original intro made by me. I decided I was going to get creative with this podcast and take it to the next level. What you're about to hear comes from my own life, real situations, real people, real moments that still linger. For privacy and clarity, characters have been dramatized and details adjusted, but the core of each story is true. These are the experiences that stayed with me, the ones that demanded to be told. People like him rarely arrive loudly. They blend in like background noise you only hear once the room goes quiet. Malik called himself a pinball enthusiast. That was the word that he used. Enthusiast. He wore it like a badge of honor. Like obsession sounded better if you dressed it up properly. Every single machine had a story to him, not history memory. He talked about pinball like some people talk about old friends or enemies, which was strange because he swore the machines remembered who played them. Malik had this mad hatter and dorky way about him. Eyes always a little too awake, smile tilted like he was halfway through a joke no one else had been invited into. His clothes were never quite matched, but somehow that felt intentional. Like chaos that was curated. And then there was Kaiser. Kaiser didn't talk much, but he watched every single movement and face emotion of every single person around him. If Malik was movement, noise, stories, energy, Kaiser was the stillness. He stood back, arms crossed, eyes tracking everything without even blinking. When he smiled, it never reached his eyes. They always showed up together. Always together. At first it felt coincidental, but then I later realized that they both had awful, codependent, trauma bonding attachment styles to one another that dated back over a decade before me. Okay, so we'll call her Eloise, the third wheel, the friend of both Malik and Kaiser, although she was friends with Kaiser first. Eloise started noticing isolated and concerning patterns. Malik would constantly put Kaiser down to Eloise, their mutual friend, but never to his face. He would also gaslight Eloise constantly to feeling superior with him, and that Kaiser was nothing without them both in his life. He also stated many times over and over that if Kaiser and him part ways, he would also have to leave Eloise in the dust. What's even more strange about this friend triangle is that Malik was constantly love bombing Eloise. And like he would buy all these haunted gems that would surprise her. And she would say, Oh no, Malik, you don't need to buy these things. And he would respond, Oh, I want to. You're such a good friend to Kaiser, but you're a good friend to me, too. She even got to see Malik's prized and loved antique possessions and felt a I don't know, net of safety with him, like is maybe this was her true friend. While Kaiser was often alone at his house the way he liked it, Eloise felt a very strong, upsetting emotion in the gut of her belly. She questioned why Malik would always tell her such obscure personal issues between him and Kaiser. It truly started to feel so off and cringe. Eloise also noticed Malik's love for stalking an old ex-friend of the group and the miles he would go just to try and fuck with her new life as much as he could. All the pictures he would pull up of her and make the snarkiest comments about the way she looked or even how her new young child looked. That's when Eloise really seen Malik for what he truly was. Malik always talked about pinball like it was a relationship he only understood. You don't force it, he'd say, you guide it and let it think of you choosing it. Every time he said that, Kaiser's jaw tightened. Malik always played first, always bought the best machines without discussing with his business partner. No matter the cost, he always made the deals in the dark, in the back alleys, and always made Kaiser feel less than and made him feel even like he was more of the help instead of a team. No wonder Kaiser slipped some change into his own pockets from time to time. He felt tired of Malik being King Daddy and owning all of what Kaiser seen every day and all night, like he was just a servant or a background piece in Malik's kingdom. It was clear who declared superity at all times, no matter the situation. In the pinball environment, and even outside of that, it sounded like a miserable prison to Eloise, and still she kept her cool and just tried to teeter-totter a balanced friendship with them both. It was obvious that Malik treated life as a game, the same way he would work with those damn machines. Repetition, reward, correction, public charm, and private pressure. And suddenly, the pinball obsession didn't feel quirky anymore. It felt like practice. The night after a birthday gathering, she seen that the machine star gazed look in Malik's eyes. No credits, no hands, just the sound of a game beginning. It wasn't devotion, it was debt. Malik knew his cover was going to blow at some point. After all he's done, he was about to really have a bad taste in his mouth and put it in Eloise's mouth. All this about how terrible Kaiser was. But he still continued the night. Drinks, dessert, a fancy spooky restaurant, all of this decoy to a night that wasn't even his to start with. Of course, he just took over the plans that Kaiser and his friends had. Eloise figured it out that night that Malik paid for everything while he showcased that creepy grin without even looking at the bill. Malik loved to spend money loudly, generously, and publicly. It made people admire him. Even Eloise herself thought, what a fucking tool. No one can buy my love, that's for damn sure. But with Kaiser, it was different. Quiet transfers. I got you, I'll handle it. You'd be stuck without me. Always framed kindness, always delivered as a freeloader, and Malix the hero. What a sad world to live in. As if it's not shitty enough, your work and help goes unnoticed, and instead of payments, you get more bartering, gestures, and talk down to. Kaiser would never argue. He would just nod or maybe give Malik a resting bitch face. It seemed like that man was counting exits that didn't even exist. Malik likes an audience. Everything he did needed witnesses. He made Kaiser play the part of the grateful companion, the quiet sidekick, the proof that Malik was admired, respected, and needed. He'd be lost without Malik. He would always tell everyone around. Everyone would laugh, but for some odd reason, Kaiser never would even crack half of a smile. Malik really studied Eloise at first. She didn't know it then, but she knows it now. He listened more than he spoke, mirrored her humor just to rub Kaiser's ass raw and make him jealous that you know he snatched up his bestie. Remembered details no one else bothered to keep. He praised her instincts and gave her admiration whenever he had the chance, even praised her good energy. All narcissism and power control he used. He would also tell her she was different and that most people don't see what he's seen in her. For a while it was flattering to her, it was safe, it was familiar. Love bombing doesn't feel like danger, it feels like relief. He showed up when he needed to, or even, you know, if she needed help, paid when she never asked, defended her in public, then quietly criticized others who didn't appreciate her enough. He would tell her about someone she looked up to, someone that was like an uncle to her, that he didn't deserve her in his life, and that that man was draining her energy. Malik used the words black magic because that would have been too obvious, right? He would ask Eloise jokingly if she was a witch, even his mom asked her. But he knew Eloise was magical in her own sense. He knew that she made karmic jars and manifestation jars and believed that the moon held powers dating back to ancient times. Eloise would always go on and on and on about this. And Malik, well, he would listen. So, in other words, Eloise did have a witchy vibe, but a green or earthy witchy vibe to her, and certainly not harmful. Malik was doing his own energy work behind the scenes. He was using it for his so-called protection and intentions to grow his pinball business. One by one, he lit candles for focus and scribbled symbols just for fun after tossing back a few stiff drinks in the dark after closing hours in the back of the arcade. He even went as far to place coins carefully around the machines and his pockets and even the doorways. After he laughed off his wannabe bitchy night to Eloise, she began to think, wow, is this asshole mocking me? I thought we were friends, and my spirituality means a lot to me, and he knew this, but he wanted what Eloise represented: independence, stability, and a future not dependent on him. He would always promise her all these business ideas and how he would get a hold of this person, that person, how he would make all these collaborations happen for her. Nothing, and I mean nothing, ever came out of his rants besides her being able to boost her talk show at an event that she volunteered at to help his glorified success shine through a city hall, you know, Halloween extravaganza. In this friend, or shall I say, non-trusting circle of fuckery, Kaiser was always teethered by money and shiny things. She could smell your soul once there was enough time and energy invested in someone. Mallik absolutely hated that Eloise would be fine without him and had a whole entire life outside of this little circle. Malik would plant ideas gently like seeds. He would keep the insults flowing to her complaining that Kaiser relies too much on him and how he worries about him, and how Kaiser would fall apart without Malik. And that there was such light to be his guide, and that would be me, and he would always push me to like make Kaiser into this man that he wanted. Guidance. Oh yes, that was Malik's favorite word for control. Then the praise sharpened even more onto Eloise with words like, You're so good for Kaiser, you've been his only true friend, and I would never want to take his only friend from him. He only listens to you. Talk to him, you know, help him grow. This persuasion fatally turned into a manipulation game and demanding and even annoying like behavior. Even Eloise's best friend Tina could see through Malik's bullshit. Tina would say, Why does he want us to go spy on Kaiser so much? And why does he care so much about Kaiser's every move? That's when Eloise had to come clean with Tina. She told her all what Malik was saying and doing and how uncomfortable it made her feel. Malik wanted to take Kaiser far away from all of us, she explained. Not to free him, but to prove he could. He planned the perfect storm and poor Eloise fell into the trap. Malik would later demonstrate ownership and to show that even what depended on him could be redirected if he pulled the right strings. So Eloise was that string. She was now the bad guy, the disease that was making Kaiser sick and drained of all of his energy. The tables had turned around, and Eloise was only left with a haunting memory of the past with her little triangle of besties. She felt empty and stupid for falling at the bottom of the devil's pit. Kaiser never showed himself around again. No texts, no explanations. People always come back, right? Well, Kaiser did hop back into the picture to defend Malik's ignorant and arrogant actions towards yet more extended friends of the triangle. Kaiser spit fire and hell from his voice that pierced Eloise's ears and enraged her with confusion and stung like a million of bee stings through the phone one night. So she huffed and she puffed back, only for Kaiser to panic and hang up. No callback, no nothing. Although Eloise wanted to shout from the rooftop how Malik viewed him as a liability and he was generously just tolerating Kaiser, Eloise thought, no, they will get karma. Let the universe handle that situation, that entire circus, not up to her anymore. Handlers make all the decisions and the fate of someone else's life, right? The money, the control, the whispering, the rituals, that was disguised as intention, all kept contained in that little arcade museum. Scientifically, energy never dies. Malik chanted around that Kaiser failed as a friend to Eloise and that she was misunderstood that he tried to help her, even into a side hustle and talk, you know, on her talk show, and how it was a shame that he no longer could help her. But control only works when someone keeps repeating the lie. Eloise never did. She broke that circle. Her storyline added up and stayed the same throughout this whole entire situation. Kaiser vanished cleanly. A year passed, and then another one did. And in all that time, Kaiser never reached out to Eloise or Tina or anyone from that group anymore. Malach never contacted Eloise or the other friends directly. See, that would require courage. And of course, Malik did not have courage. Instead, he lingered like haunting residual energy, stuck on the same loop. Always viewing their stories, the name, people you may know category, a quick pop-up with his name obviously showing on a live feed repeatedly on all social media. He needed visibility because narcissists don't stalk to approach, they stalk to remain relevant. Watching friends of friends, tracking from the sidelines, keeping score from a distance, like pinball machines stuck in a track mode. Lights flashing, sounds looping, waiting for someone to insert another coin, but no one ever does. For Malik, nothing was random. His obsessive ways followed him beyond pinball and arcades. His outrageous collection of Halloween figurines, plastic vintage skeletons, and pumpkins that would never be put away at the end of the spooky season. Pee-wee Herman memorabilia, the grinning faces that exaggerated joy and childlike absurdity, frozen in plastic. People assumed it was irony. It wasn't. Malik kept his collections in rooms people barely stay in long, like basements, back rooms, and storage areas behind arcades. Corners with poor lighting and humming of electricity. He arranged the trinkets like landmarks. If you ever stayed long enough, you would start noticing eyes pointed inward, faces angled towards machines, symbols repeating without explanation. He didn't decorate, he staged everything. People felt comfortable in his fantasy arcade land because he showed people he's playful and it was harmless, and all over the top decorations are temporary, right? Pee-wee Herman had the same effect. Exaggerated, cheerlike, childlike, even energy, absurdity, so loud that it disarmed any suspicion. Those trinkets serve two purposes. The marked territory showed that that was his space, his theme, and his rules. They reflected the version of himself, Malik wants others to see quirky, nostalgic, misunderstood, and harmless. Collectors often preserve memories, but some people collect because they're afraid of anything that changes. Eloise continued to keep her cool and asked her friends if they do the same, no matter how much Malik lurked around the corners in the shadows just being nosy. She simply withdrew her energy. For someone like Malik, this was intolerable. Because narcissistic fixation isn't about love or desire. It's about unfinished control. Eloise is a narrative he never got to close. Malik's fixations grew even darker and were no longer just personal. Eloise walking away from him wasn't just rejection, but it cut off his always have to be right, a special enlightenment of being chosen. That's why he. Lurks. Not to reconnect, but to mirror that energy back to him. Radical thinkers often confuse attention with influence. Watching feels like participation. Lurking feels like relevance. The most haunting part of the story is that Malik and Kaiser live in a real loop that's never ending. The pinball game itself is one life shared and not separate souls or separate thinking. It's a madman's fantasy land, machines still lighting up, running and making noises, even after everyone leaves. Kaiser is a real tragedy because he almost made it out of that round alive. But he willingly went back to play that last round and top his highest score. Same machines, same sounds, same routines, and the loop is restored all over again. The strings are still attached like a puppet. The money still dangled like a carrot, and the watcher has never left. Like an animatronic powered down just long enough to convince you it's safe. I understand it now. Not everyone escapes that building. Some people leave and come back because it's the only place that feels predictable. Malik never chases, he just waits. This story mirrors five nights at Freddy's perfectly. Malach's rituals stopped being hopeful and became desperate. Objects would get rearranged again and again, Halloween trinkets, broken toys, smiling faces frozen. Pee-wee's grin became hollow, eternal, and mocking. Candles burn too long, wax spills where it shouldn't. Symbols get scratched deeper and deeper each time. Malik doesn't want protection. He wants influence. But influence requires entry. Eloise has become a faded flame in his story, unreachable. This fractures his sinking and ego. Without response, Malik's inner world collapses inward. The machines don't hit the same. The lights feel dimmer. The hum is irritating now, and it's not comforting. He spends more time replaying memories than creating new ones. That's when obsession turns inward and where it curdles. Kaiser came back, but no present. He looks and acts like a shell of what Malik remembered. It's like the lights are permanently off upstairs in his head. Kaiser is a body and Eloise was a mirror. Malik turns darker and more lonely. He can't tell reality from fantasy. He grows angrier and he thinks to himself, is this fucking purgatory? This is purgatory, right? He feels his body physically morphing into more of a machine. He does not feel human. He observes Kaiser over and over and believes he may actually be dead. And what he's seeing is a residual ghost of what Kaiser once was. The humming in his ears grows louder and sound more like static. He's now realizing he can't feel a heartbeat coming from his chest. Actually, he realizes he can't feel anything at all and that he's numb. His vision is mimicking, looking through a kaleidoscope. He thinks to himself, where am I? Simultaneously, after all these thoughts, he could see everyone walking up to him, only to realize he was in a glass case. In fact, it felt like a coffin. And everyone and everything seemed so much more bigger than what he remembered. His soul was trapped into a useless old pinball machine that no one wanted and was being auctioned off for a measly$50. That was it. All of that just to end up even more confused and unfulfilled than he was in the actual living realm. The real question is: did Kaiser finally fucking snap and maybe do some voodoo back on Malik? He was tired of all these weird, you know, rituals never working. So I don't know. Or did Eloise? No one ever seen or even tried to locate Kaiser from the group. They had just figured he would sell all the arcade businesses and assets that Malik cherished all those years to make some quick cash and to hit the road. As for Eloise, she continued hosting her show. She never talked about Malik again or what had happened. She kind of just acted fine and it was really shocking to people. She even added a documentary or two to her resume and then later wrote a book on the living and the dead world. She still to this day can feel Malik's lost energy, but quickly returns back to sender each and every single time. You guys can find me on Spotify, Apple, Amazon, iHeart, Amazon UK, pretty much any platform that you listen to your podcast on. So since this was an original story and I served you guys off with an original intro that I made, I'm actually going to play an original song that I made a couple nights ago, of course, with the help of AI. So this song is called Beyond Insane, Michigan's Whispers.

SPEAKER_01: 27:52

The old house is breathing for so many series.