“What episode is airing in Brazil?” Sam asked. “Has Dr. Bumfuzzle gotten to Kepler-186 yet?”
“No, he and Professor Luckunckle are still fighting Nazis with General Patton,” Davi said. “Are they going into space soon? I sure shitting hope so. All this American history is hard to follow.”
“Oh just you wait!” Sam teased. “The season-nine cliff-hanger is going to blow your mind!”
Topher’s e-mail chimed with a notification from YouTube.
“Guys, Kylie Trig just posted her recap!” Topher announced. “Let’s go to YouTube and watch it together. We’ll press Play on the count of three.”
“No, we have to wait for Huda,” Mo interjected. “She’ll be devastated if we watch it without her.”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning over there,” Joey said. “She’s probably asleep.”
As if Huda had been just waiting for an introduction, she appeared in a fifth video message on their screens. Huda was a fifteen-year-old Muslim girl from Saudi Arabia. She had a round face, big cheeks, and adorable dimples. Even though she lived on the other side of the world, Huda’s knowledge of American pop culture and Hollywood gossip always impressed everyone. If it was a headline, Huda knew about it.
“Please tell me you haven’t watched Kylie’s recap without me!” she said, inches away from her webcam.
“Hi, Huda,” Topher said. “Perfect timing. We were just about to go to YouTube and watch it together.”
“Wait!” Huda objected. “They censor my shit over here—I don’t get YouTube. Can’t you play it on your iPad and hold it up to your camera for the rest of us? Pretty please?”
“Works for me,” Topher said, and loaded the video on his iPad.
“Huda, if everything is so censored, how did you even know the video had been posted?” Joey asked.
Huda looked around her home to make sure no one was listening.
“The Wizzer anticensorship train,” she whispered. “Whenever something notable happens in the Wiz Kids fandom, the Wizzers in Mexico message the Wizzers in Puerto Rico, who message the Wizzers in Cuba, who message the Wizzers in Japan, who message the Wizzers in China, who message the Wizzers in Russia, who message the Wizzers in Turkey, who message the Wizzers throughout the countries in the Middle East like me in Saudi Arabia. It’s a very complex system and it took years to perfect, but we knocked through those firewalls like Jenga.”
The others were impressed such a covert and proficient system had been set up in the Wizzer community, but they weren’t surprised. It was a testimony to the official slogan of the Wiz Kids’ viewership: “When there’s a Wizzer, there’s a way.”
“That’s incredible, Huda,” Mo said. “If only diplomacy worked as efficiently as a fandom, there would never be war again.”
“Kylie’s video is loaded!” Topher said. “Should I play it?”
“YES!” everyone shouted, and leaned closer to their computers.
Topher pressed Play and held his iPad up to his computer’s camera for the others to see. The video had only been up for three minutes and already had four million views. They impatiently sat through a fifteen-second ad for an energy drink called CherryInsulin, followed by the thirty-second-long introduction to all Kylie Trig’s videos (in which she sang an obnoxious theme song and hit a tambourine offbeat to the music).
Finally, fresh footage appeared of Kylie lounging on a tufted chaise in the presidential suite of her Santa Clara hotel.
“Whaaad up, Wizzer sluts!” Kylie said. “Welcome to another episode of Trig Talk with Kylie Trig! How am I doing, you ask? Not too shabby.… Just got back from the ‘Cast and Creative Panel’ at WizCon 2017.… No biggie.… We’ve got more to dish and dissect than a marine biologist, but first let me answer the question most of my subscribers want to know: Cash Carter confirmed that next season of Wiz Kids.… Peachfuzzle is back ON, mothafuckaaaas!”
Kylie shook a maraca and twirled her leg above her head like she was a human helicopter. Mo and Huda squealed so loud they almost blew out Topher’s speakers.
“Here are the deets y’all Wizzer bitches need to know from the rest of the panel,” Kylie continued. “First, let’s talk about the cast: Tobey Ramous is looking buff as fuck—I would totally tap that ass if I wasn’t afraid he’d crush me. Memo to Amy Evans: if you’re going to take a selfie on a stage, make sure to include the audience so we can tag ourselves in it later—it’s called manners. Cash Carter is rocking Robert Pattinson’s too-hungover-to-care look these days, but honestly, he doesn’t pull it off. By the way, he was totes flirting with me when I asked him about Peachfuzzle, not that I’m surprised—happens every year.”