“Someone posted a video of Cash passing out in the warehouse last night!” Mo said. “It’s all over the Internet! All the Wizzers are freaking out!”
“Oh my God, it’s everywhere!” Topher said. “Television Actor Blacks Out in St. Louis—headline from CNN!”
“Wiz Kid ‘Wizzes’ Out of Control—Yahoo! News,” Sam read.
“Meet Me in St. Louis, Floor Says to Cash Carter—TMZ!” Joey read.
“Liberal Goes Down in Red State—Fox News!” Mo read. “It’s also on WizzerNet and the Wiz Kids forum page!”
“Guys, I have the video loaded on my phone!” Sam said. “It’s got over ten million views and we’re all in it!”
Topher, Joey, and Mo huddled around Sam’s phone and he pressed Play. They’d never have to relive the experience in their memories again because the whole night had been immortalized by a shaky iPhone. Everything from Cash dancing like a madman to fainting and being carried off was on YouTube for the whole world to see.
“This is horrible!” Topher said.
“A disaster!” Joey said.
“I can’t believe we didn’t see anyone recording us!” Sam said.
“I’m so glad I was wearing a cute outfit,” Mo said. “Look at the video recommendations—Kylie Trig has already uploaded a video about it!”
Sam clicked on it and the video loaded on his phone. After a thirty-second commercial for a lip gloss called PornStar, and Kylie’s obnoxious theme song, the video finally played.
“The president has to do something about Cash Carter,” Kylie said right off the bat. “Look, we all know fame and success change people. Other fandoms have survived the personality changes, the bad decisions, and the scandals of their show’s star—and I know we’ll get through this, too. But Cash Carter, what da fuck is going on with you, boy? I know you’ve been going through a phase lately, but I never expected to wake up to this!”
Kylie played the footage from the warehouse in the corner of her video. The distressed YouTube host rubbed the sides of her temples as she watched.
“There are so many questions, I don’t know where to start! First off, why is Cash in St. Louis? Why is he at a punk rock concert when we all know he listens to alternative music? Why is he dancing like an epileptic on roller skates? But one question no one has yet to ask is who the hell are these four deplorables with him?”
The footage paused and zoomed in on Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo’s faces. Their collective gasp was so loud it scared off all the woodland creatures within a mile radius.
“We’re in Kylie Trig’s video!” Joey yelled in disbelief. “And she just called us deplorables!”
“If you ask me, these fuckers are who’s to blame,” Kylie declared passionately. “I don’t know if they’re just an entourage sucking him dry of everything decent, if they’ve been paid by another network to sabotage the show, or if they were planted by the Doctor Who fandom so they could laugh at us as we watch him self-destruct. I just know these people want him to fail! And I’m hopeful Edward Snowden and/or WikiLeaks will answer my request and help us get to the bottom of this.”
“She thinks WE’RE the bad influence?” Mo asked in outrage.
“I’m sure the Wiz Kids publicists will release some statement in the next hour claiming it was dehydration, but just in case the four leeches involved are watching this, just know the Wizzers are onto you! If you don’t leave Cash alone, stop corrupting him, and stop fucking with his career—this fandom will hunt you down, we will find you, and we will kill you!”
“Holy shit! Kylie Trig just threatened our lives!” Sam exclaimed.
The video finished but was instantly followed by another.
“Hey, Wizzer sluts,” Kylie said in a kind and casual tone. “So, right after I posted my last video my lawyers called me and told me I needed to retract what I said. I used some pretty strong words but I was not serious about the threats I made, nor do I condone or encourage violence of any kind. Make sure you subscribe and I’ll see you next time!”
The second video ended, but Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo stared at the screen for a few moments in absolute terror.
“Holy shit! Kylie Trig just threatened our lives and then took it back!” Sam clarified.
“Every Wizzer in the world is going to hate us now!” Mo said. “What do we do? Should we go into hiding?”
Topher decided to downplay the situation as much as possible—not to comfort his friends, but to comfort himself. This was more than he knew how to handle.
“Guys, I don’t think we have to be worried about this,” he said. “Everyone knows half of everything Kylie says is bullshit anyway. No one would be dumb enough to believe—”
Everyone’s phones stared to buzz. They looked at their screens and saw video messages coming in from Huda and Davi. According to the tally beside their names, it was the forty-fifth time the international Wizzers had tried calling them that day. Joey was the first to answer.
“Hi, guys—”