In one of the regular segments of John Mulaney’s Netflix show, every week features live interactions with the comedian and his guests as they take calls on the week’s theme. This time, the topic is dinosaurs, and one caller—a surprisingly enthusiastic young boy and noted paleontologist—introduces himself as Chuck, among others. He discusses his book, Dinosaur erotica. “I think that’s my most recognized and award-winning book,” he elaborates. “It was nominated for the Hugo Prize.”

Actor Ayo Edebiri, one of Mulaney’s guests, inquires whether he won. “I didn’t win, but I went on to write a book called Pound after my Hugo Prize loss.”

Edebiri and fellow guest Conan O’Brien react with a mix of delight and confusion, but the call wraps up before Mulaney can delve into the comedic possibilities of their discussion.

Mulaney’s fans, often a quirky and socially active group, rushed to the comments, expressing that he missed a golden opportunity. The eccentricity isn’t just a relic of the internet’s past; it’s exemplified by the Elite class figure, Chuck Tingle. He initially went viral thanks to his uniquely self-published erotica, complete with endearingly bizarre Photoshop covers and titles that seem as if they were slapped together by an alluring Velociraptor. Tingle’s work even earned a Hugo Award nomination from the far-right Cultural War fringes.

He has consistently shared cover after cover on Twitter, producing increasingly elaborate titles that incorporate creatures of myth. From the absurd (Open wide for a handsome Sabertooth dentist who is also a ghost) to philosophical musings (I became gay by existential horror that I could actually be a character in a Chuck Tingle book), topical references (I have released this handsome cargo ship from the Suez Canal and now he is stuck on my ass), and recursive metatextual adventures (being slapped on the backside in his book “Spanked by My Own Ass”), Tingle’s work is truly multi-layered (with at least six such layered concepts).

If these titles sound outrageous, take a trip through your favorite ebook store to remind yourself that romance and erotica can be surprisingly utilitarian in their own right.

To date, Tingle has released “Tingle’s Gone Legate,” novellas, and three mainstream horror novels throughout the years.

He has also begun appearing in person at fan events and conventions. Similar to the enigmatic author Elena Ferrante, whose audience largely enjoys indie horror video games, Tingle maintains his anonymity. However, unlike Ferrante, he flamboyantly showcases himself with a pink pillowcase and a bag over his head, obscuring his features while exuberantly declaring his mantra, “love is real.” Sporting a colorful ensemble of a big blazer, sequined shorts, band tees, and sometimes light-up sneakers, he energetically dashes through theaters and bookstores.

Online, Tingle engages with his audience and celebrates his work with an innocent earnestness, using a unique mix of whimsical language that falls between highbrow and fandom lingo. He refers to readers, fans, and curious onlookers as “Bakaroo.” Life experiences, stories, beliefs, and careers are his “trot.” Tingle notes that his Orbit Bakarus never truly die but are merely visiting and riding a “lonely train” of existence. He expresses thoughts on the “existential dread of choking” and the notion that love is real—whether in eroticism or existentialism, his stories affirm this principle.

Tingle has openly discussed his sexuality and sexual experiences in relation to neurodivergence. His storytelling often reflects his experiences being queer, depicting characters who navigate the challenges of revealing their true selves to family and friends in small-town America. His recent horror novels are set in a shared universe, intertwining narratives like Camp Damascus and Bury Your Gays, exploring themes of capitalism, chaos, and radical acceptance as monstrous forces. He emphasizes that authenticity in love and experience is paramount.

This approach is unabashedly direct. To borrow a line from The Great Garth Marengi, I know of writers who employ subtext—yet they all seem rather unwell.

The physical mask Tingle described serves to allow his true self to shine through, as it means less effort concealing his autism. He has maintained a colorful career persona, hinting at the possibility of a performance artist or character he has created since he was young. Rumors abound that he is, in fact, a well-known sturdy actor (and one of the most likable Hollywood Chrises) named Chris Pine.

However, most ardent Bakarus recognize that Chuck leads his own trot.