December 11, 2010 at 6 PM, Quebec City, Quebec: Rob

My Skype rings the instant it hits 5:00 PM his time and I can't help but wonder how long he has been sitting there, waiting. I answer on the third ring after I minimize my editing software, noting that he has opted for a voice-only call. A smart move, but this will make it more difficult for me to determine what it is he wants. What you say, what you think, and what you do are often three very different things, and something about TBNRfrags just irks me. I'm not sure what it is - it might even be nothing - but he seems too goal-oriented and duplicitous to be trustworthy. I am now playing a game of chess against a virtually unknown and invisible enemy, and so far his strategy is absolutely bizarre.

'People call me a try-hard. This guy is the new meta. He probably just sat at his desk for the last half hour watching to see if I would log on.' My account status is permanently hidden, and I will admit I had some fun picturing him panicking over me never logging on. Just like in real life, I prefer to lurk.

"Hey. When did you get here?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused. Am I giving this guy too much credit with my mental AI? Could he really have insidious plans when he doesn't even know how to change the settings on Skype? Maybe I play too many strategy games and it's starting to catch up to me. Could this be a scheme within itself, or am I overthinking the whole thing and he's just some high school kid?

"I never really log out. I have been doing some massive editing over the last two days and I just leave everything running while the videos render. Why, when did you get here?" Preston pauses and is not as quick to respond; he has obviously been waiting around for a while and he even sounds a little disappointed.

"I just got on about five minutes ago. Went and checked my channels and Twitter and stuff." He pauses for a second and I can hear him typing. "What'd you wanna do on Hypixel?"

"They just updated their party games server. It's still in beta but Jerome said it's a good way to grind out levels for ranks. I'm still rocking the basic class and I need to get a move on before they re-release Battledome or I'll be RIP."

"Sounds good. I haven't played on there in forever. I think Jerome roped both of us into that."

"That's the Bacca for you." I exit my private server on Minecraft and join the Hypixel hub, spending a good thirty seconds skimming through the tab menu to find the mini game I was talking about. Meanwhile, the Skype call goes dead silent. This is already looking like a terrible idea.

"I don't see it in the main menu. Do they have a physical hub door for it or...?"

"Maybe. Let's go find out. I am over by Survival Games if you want to check out your side."

"Yeah, will do. What's it called?"

"Not a clue. Probably just 'Party Games' or something." Preston gives a loud snort in my ear and I can't help but smile. Maybe he turns into a real person when he isn't recording with Mitch?

"You mean 'Bacca Games'?"

"Yeah! He's probably on here all the time. I bet he has the highest score on all of the games."

"He's probably the only returning player who knows how to play actual Minecraft. That's why it's the only thing he's good at - he's surrounded by noobs on here."

"Don't let him hear you say that. He will send you a collection of creepy ass pictures of his nose on every account you have ever had. I'm still finding them six months later. It's like a plague from Easter Island." What was Preston's idea of revenge if someone pissed him off?

"I've gotta see that."

"The nose griefing?"

"Yeah! I'll make a collage for him and put it as my Twitter header or something. It'd be awesome."

"It's going to end up as a fan fiction. I'm just warning you."

"The ship has sailed, my friend, the ship has sailed." I can already picture fan art and picture edits of Preston sucking on Jerome's nose plastered all over everyone's social media accounts, and I have to admit it would be hysterical. "By the way, I found the lobby if you just wanna TP to me."

"Roger that. I just found a sign saying that they are adding something called UHC this summer. Do you have any idea what that is?" I ask absentmindedly, trying to think of the command to join him. I have been staring at this screen so much over the past week that I can barely remember how to do anything but walk around and click. I know what 'UHC' stands for, but my own name and my common sense have both evaporated from screen fatigue and overall exhaustion.

"No clue. But I'm playing it." I request to TP to Preston and we join the lobby for the next round of party games as a handful of YouTube fans twerk around us, taking screenshots and spamming chat. I forget how many people watch my videos until I play on public servers and get mobbed. I grin and twerk back a few times as they get their screenshots, wondering what my and Preston's fans think of us recording together, especially his. I have found that my particular brand of humor is something of an acquired taste and induces a bit of ire on others' channels, especially my pranks. "There're so many peeps on tonight! What's up with that?"

"Nah, man. It's always like this. You should see it on the weekends; you can't see two blocks in front of you."

"That's crazy. Nice dance moves, dude. Where'd you learn that from?" He dismisses it nonchalantly but he is clearly annoyed that my mob of fans is bigger than his, and he changes the subject immediately, which is fine by me. I certainly don't want this to get any more awkward and Preston throws off a jealous vibe. It would be best to not mention our subscriber counts and awaken his inner homunculus, as hilarious as that may be.

"Who said I had to learn it? I am the lord of the dance!"

"Now, I think 'lord' might be a little bit of an overstatement. Is that all you've got?" He seems surprisingly easy to joke around with, though. Maybe he doesn't take this as seriously as I thought he did. At the very least, he has the improv bit down.

"Are you questioning me, good sir?"

"You could say I have some doubts." I walk over to his character and punch him right in the face, walking sideways and in a circle to dodge his counterattack.

"No! I told you, I am the lord of the dance! You do not question your lord, you prole!"

"I am not a prole! And the only kind of lord you're ever gonna be is a pleblord!" He catches up and continues punching me, the crowd of fans jumping up and down in a sloppy circle around us and chanting for us to fight in chat.

"Stop, you heathen! At the very least put some clothes on! Good God, man!"

"Why? Don't you like what you see?" Now this could be a fun warm-up.

"Uh... Well... Of course I like what I see. That's the problem."

"Since when is being a handsome man a problem?" Preston shifts and spins around, twerking his character's ass in my direction. I pretend to spank him and receive a plethora of question marks in chat.

"It's distracting. You're just so... so bright and beautiful. Your glistening lava skin dims the Minecraft sun and turns glowstone into dust."

"So you like my hot bod?"

"It's the hottest of bods. I fan."

"Awww, shucks. You're making me blush. You can't be talking 'bout little ol' me!"

"Well, it's a little hard to miss you. You're... the only glowing thing here."

"Oh, so now I'm a thing!" He whips around and resumes punching me, his huge black Creeper eyes filling up most of my screen. Apparently, when I can't be blown up by normal Creepers, I get beat up by flaming Creepers.

'Oh, the puns!'

"I-I just...!"

"You really have a way with words, don't you? Typical basic." Finally the lobby has filled and the countdown starts for the game, the crowd streaming over to the opening gate in anticipation.

"Did you just call me a basic bitch?"

"Lulz," he replies as he bounds off after the crowd. His censorship firewall is going to be a barrel of fun, I can already tell. Judging by his previous videos, I will be hearing a lot about fudge, shrimp, pears, and a variety of other edibles very shortly. "Didn't you say you only had the basic kit on here?"

"Yeah. I-"

"So you really are a basic!"

"That... that hurts, man. That really hurts. I thought we had something special."

"We just met like yesterday, Rob-a-dob. We ain't got nothin'."

"You're breaking my heart here. Don't be like Mitch. Maybe what we have is love at first sight?" I shift next to him and stare into his massive black hole eyes, and after about five seconds Preston starts cracking up.

"Okay, okay. Maybe love at first fight. Are we recording now?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Do you want to do the intro?"

"Sure thing. Ready?"

"Let's do this thing." I hit the record button on a new window of my editing software and I prepare to get my ass absolutely kicked. Besides the zombie archery game and the game with the mine carts, I never do well at party games, especially when Jerome isn't there to put the team on his back. I hope for an instant that I won't get targeted by my lovely fans but... We all know that isn't going to happen. The odds are more in my favor to find diamonds in my "Let's Play" than they are for me to actually have a chance at winning here.

"Three, two, one... Hey guys, Preston here with the one-and-only MrWoofless for a round of party games over on Hypixel! We're gonna see who's the party master and who's the party pleb!"

"We already know who the pleb is, after our very one-sided game of target practice a couple of days ago."

"Oh, shut the fudge up. I blame Benja for lettin' you live too long. I'm gonna get you back this time."

"Just keep telling yourself that - someday you might actually believe it." Everyone in the lobby gets teleported to the first randomized mini game: the horse race. I won't lie, I am a competitive guy and starting off with a luck-based game just might let me get a couple of free points up on Preston. After all, the only person in the world who does consistently well at the horse race is Jerome: karma seems to think that it can even things out by blessing him at party games after screwing him over in every other video game in existence. I have never seen anyone else who has such awful luck at video games. It's just... bad. As the timer counts down, I quickly glance at my horse and I am overjoyed that I wasn't saddled with the mule this round.

'Now I just have to somehow cream Preston while using a trackpad and all will be well.' Neither of our horses is anything special, but mine is just slightly faster than his. He tests his luck and sticks to the inner track so he can use the shortcut through the stalls, cheering his digital horse on like he had bet real money on the race. 'If I win this, it is going to be really difficult not to rub it in his face a little. He wouldn't take kindly to that.' We both fall silent in concentration during the third lap, and I manage to beat him by a hair.

"GG, man, GG. You had some risky strats going on back there."

"Yeah, GG. I had to give you a run for your money somehow. But who's the beast who beat us?" I check the current scoreboard and see that someone had bested my time by three full seconds, but I didn't see anyone racing in front of me.

"Not a clue. I don't even remember seeing a 69CerealxKiller96 in the game, do you?"

"Nope. But I just wanted to kick your butt so..."

"You are such a nice guy, Preston."

"Awww, I try, dawg. What do we have up next?"

"King of the Hill."

'Damn it. I hate this game.'

"I fudging hate this game. I wish we could hide our usernames when we play on this server. Everyone's just gonna chase me around and try to kill me with baseball bats! They don't even play the actual game!"

"Same. RIP me."

"Truce?"

"Definitely. Good luck."

"Have fun."

"Don't die," I add, and he laughs as the game begins. I immediately run toward the center of the platform, dodging attacks and smacking my pursuers away as best I can. I see someone with a badly recreated Stampy skin reach the middle and start flinging everyone else away, so I settle for orbiting their spot and avoiding their stick.

"Get rekt! Now that was a crit!" Preston is running around the left side of the platform, swatting everyone back down the hill once they reach the cobblestone blocks. He is mildly successful, holding his own at third place. I am so busy watching him squabble with a generic Steve that I drift too close to the player at the center and I rocket out of the circle and halfway down the hill.

"What the hell, man? How did they hit me so far?"

"Where'd you go?" Preston peeks over the edge at me and goes back to beating everyone into submission. "What'd you do to 'em to make 'em slap you like that?"

"I just wanted to snuggle, man. I wasn't even doing anything that bad! Why can't we just be friends?" I finally make it back onto the platform and try to get back into orbit, but the cat instantaneously shoots me back down the hill - without even looking at me. "The force... it is strong with this one."

"Say what?"

"Come check out this guy at the middle." I slowly start making my way back up the hill and Preston continues his impressive battle royale with six people.

"Nah, man. I'm good. I'm not into that kind of thing." I grin at that and walk up behind him, waiting for the crowd to thin out.

"Now isn't that a lie. Watch this." He spins around, looking for me, and I smack him head first at the player holding center. Preston flies forward into them, then soars in a wide arc off the platform without the cat ever hitting him.

"What was that?" he squeaks, sprinting back up the hill while I watch 69CerealxKiller96 jump up and down at center, their knockback stick never leaving their side. We still have about 20 seconds left of the game but the winner has already been decided.

"That, my friend, is a noob hacker. They're so bad they don't even try to hide it."

"Well then, I guess we have a new game. Ever play wall ball?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay, so you take a ball and bounce it against a wall and try to make the other person miss it so they get out."

"Are you calling all of these beautiful people balls?"

"Well, they bounce. Let's do this! I at least want us to get second and third if we can't win." Neither of us is content to lose, but we need to make the best of this recording. We run to opposite sides of the platform and start smacking the other players into the hacker, who unflinchingly sends each and every one flying off the center dais and halfway down the hill. Honestly, this is more fun than the actual mini game. Our scores skyrocket while fourth place gets farther and farther behind, each of our swings scoring home runs.

"This is Sparta!" I feed one last Steve to the Stampy cat demon and Preston sounds like he might be in tears. Every player stops to watch the vanilla Steve rise up into the sky while we wait for the next game to load up. "You okay there, man?"

"So... epic. I cry... every time." He starts hiccupping pathetically and I wish he had his webcam on so I could see him turn into a sobbing mess. "Best... mini game ever. We should start our own server and call it 'Hack Wars' or something and for the boss battle just randomly make someone in the lobby a hacker everyone has to kill."

"Bro, there is already a hacker in every lobby. It's like buying cereal: there's a prize in every box." He starts sobbing again and his hiccups intensify, like a tsunami of tears is drowning his vocal cords, forcing his voice to crack.

"H-he's the Cereal Killer!" Preston roars, and I start losing it, too. We just sit there and laugh at our own bad jokes while the game loads up the map for the avalanche mini game. We get our shit together just in time to sprint under the first platform, and I wipe tears from my eyes as the snowballs pelt down from the sky.

'The joke wasn't even that funny. I guess I must be exhausted, or I just really needed to laugh.' If there was one thing I had learned from this recording session, it was that Preston's hyena laugh is contagious. I sprint over to the far corner for wave two to escape from the huge crowd gathered at the center platform. From there, I can see Cereal standing perfectly still at the spawnpoint, punching aimlessly at the falling snowballs as they pass right through their body.

"Our little friend is back for round three." I run to the next platform and Preston joins me, staring at the fluorescent orange cat swatting at the snow. "Their skin isn't even the right color; they look like a flipping pylon."

"This is absolute bull shrimp. Why can't this person just die or quit or something and let everyone else play the fudging game?" I stifle a laugh at his indignation: it's impossible to take him seriously when he censors himself like my nine-year-old cousin. "I mean, we can't even get close enough to kill 'em so it just screws up the whole freakin' thing."

"I guess you and I are racing for second again, eh? What was the score last round?"

"I got second and you got third. They threw you outta the arena too many times."

"We are both still in the running, though. That's good enough for me." At this point, I just want to humiliate the hacker as much as possible. Sure, I might be giving them the publicity they want, but Preston and I are as good as handing them a lifetime ban from Hypixel and a flood of flame mail if they ever show their face on another public server or on our channels. This person is so toast their skin should be brown. We play three more peaceful rounds before the unexpected happens: Cereal starts moving. They start at the nearest platform and begin punching players out into the avalanche. "I guess the game wasn't moving fast enough for them."

"No kidding. This is just ridiculous. What do you even do to stop that? PVP's turned off until like round 15 or something," he replies, scanning the ice rink to find an escape route.

"At this point, you just run away from them and hope for the best. With any luck, they will get to us last and we can place."

"This sucks so hard. And I was beating your butt, too!"

"Hey, man, you aren't supposed to talk about our private life during the video." He laughs nervously and we sprint to the next platform, the demonic cat just a few platforms behind us. The stress is getting palpable now.

"I'm just not that good at multitasking when I have to deal with a hacker, too. Please bby, I fan. We do it next time." Preston's derpy voice turns into a shriek as Cereal runs toward us from the next platform.

"Punch it! Punch it!" We both turn and punch the cat as hard as we can and we go flying in different directions, just as planned. We duck under the platforms nearest to each of us and wait out the snow, watching the hacker warily. "I think we will have a better chance if we split up."

"Yeah, I think you're right. But I miss you, Rob-a-dob!"

"We can cuddle some more later. We have to place so we can show this person that you can have fun and win games without ruining it for everyone else. If they get close, just punch them and take cover." Cereal picks off the players one by one until only Preston and I remain, and I silently cheer when they go after him first. After Preston dies, I make it as difficult as possible for Cereal to catch me, bouncing off their aura shield and picking the farthest platform each wave so they have to run across the entire map every time to try to get me. Even though the hacks eventually win out, the chat fills with cheering and jeering every time I escape from the hideous orange cat. Apparently Cereal isn't the crowd favorite.

"GG, dude. I bet there's one really angry ten-year-old out there somewhere."

"GG. They have to be completely livid. Today is the day I out-trolled a hacker. Today is a good day."

"The best. Maybe with a little luck they'll rage quit?" The fourth game loads and Cereal spawns in a boat only a few blocks away from Preston. "Nope! Nope! They're still here!"

"Well, it looks like it's GG for you, friendo. It was a good run."

"Shut the fudge up, Robert. I'm gonna win this one."

"Yeah, right. You can't beat Lucky Charms over there."

"What can they even do to hack a boat race?" The timer counts down and we prepare to race to the death. If I win this round, I will beat Preston by at least one game, and I can claim bragging rights that I managed to do it even with a mega hacker in the lobby. It would be nice to have an amicable relationship with him as a fellow gamer and YouTuber, but I could do with a few more running jokes even if they raise a few hairs. The glass blocks holding us back disappear, and we start coasting downstream. A few unfortunate players crash into the sides of the riverbed and I can feel a small rush of adrenaline when I reach and hold the first spot. Time and blocks fly by, but nothing matters except the logs attempting to pincer me ahead. I can see the last two obstacles at the end of the track and I think I might actually win at this game for the first time... Then Cereal comes running through the air, no boat in sight.

"Okay, no. Bro, you aren't a Super Saiyan." Cereal blazes farther and farther ahead and I know the race is lost. However, if I can still beat Preston, I can win both the battle and the war. This has to happen, Cereal or no Cereal.

"Fly like an eagle," Preston sings, trailing off with garbled humming.

"And you don't even know the words to the song. I just can't even right now." I swerve around the last log and I can see the finish line not even ten blocks in front of me. I am going to win this and redeem myself after all of those failed rounds against Jerome. Five blocks, four, three... My screen flashes and I am sitting at the top of the river, slowing drifting down from the starting line. "Wait, what? What just happened?" I can hear Preston snickering for a few seconds before he gives an irate screech, sounding eerily like a chimpanzee.

"No! Just no! You can't do that! You can hack and you can cheat and you can be a pleb and a noob, but you aren't allowed to be a complete prick!"

'Now that was unexpected. Did he just swear? Did I break Preston?'

"What happened?"

"The fudging hacker is sitting at the bottom of the fudging hill hitting everyone back from the fudging finish line and screwing up the fudging game! This is bull shrimp!"

'This is the most adorable hissy fit I have ever seen. This guy is just about as intimidating as a Furby when he rages. This needs to be immortalized on YouTube forever.'

"Maybe if we rush it together one of us can get through...?" Before Preston can answer, the rest of the hoard of players reaches the finish line and the sheer number of teleportations and hack report commands overwhelms the server and the game crashes. "Never mind that, then. GG?"

"Yeah... GG. I just wanted to kick your butt at some party games."

"What's up with you and my butt, man?"

"Naw, it's all about what's goin' down." We respawn in the main lobby of the server and Preston sprints over and crouches next to my character. I zoom out to a third person viewpoint and copy him, staring at the side of his head and inching closer and closer while he talks. "Well, thanks for watching this amazingly rage-inducing round of party games on Hypixel with me and the Woofless. Check out his channel and the server linked in the description and I'll see you again tomorrow for some more Minecraft server hopping. Bye guys!"

"I love you."

"Shut the fudge up." He punches my character away just as we end the recording, and I couldn't be more satisfied. It was hilarious and we both had a good run, plus I can use the feedback from this video to decide whether or not I should record with Preston in the future. Depending on how he edits this video, how he handles the comments, and how he markets it on his channel, I should be able to gauge if he is trustworthy. The irony of him leaving me out of the titles of our two previous recordings was not lost on me.

"I just want to live like they do in the Disney movies! Is that so bad?"

"Like Beauty and the Beast? Dude, you'll have to talk to Jerome about that one."

"I was thinking more along the lines of The Princess and the Frog. I could use some real food." I can already smell Mom's holiday cooking and the thought brings the familiar swell of stress and anxiety crashing down over my head. I only have until tomorrow to record, edit, upload, and schedule seven videos plus this one.

'After you do all of that, though, you might be able to earn enough from advertisements to not have to starve yourself through January.' As amazing as this recording session seems to have been, I need to get back to grinding out challenge videos for the new "Let's Play" series that begins tomorrow. I disconnect from Hypixel and return to my private server to continue legitimately AFKing my supply farms.

"Now I don't mean to brag but my cooking skills aren't half bad. I'll send you some good ol' fashioned Southern cookin' for Christmas that'll make all your dreams come true."

"Yeah, thanks Prince Charming, but I think it would be cold by the time it got here."

"Nah, dude, it's Prince Naveen." I pause for a second, trying to decipher what Preston could be talking about. "From The Princess and the Frog? You're never gonna have that fairy-tale-happy-ending if you can't even get your references right, Rob-a-Dob. You're as bad as Mitch."

"Now that is just cruel. How could you say something like that to me?" He laughs, like he actually, genuinely laughs, and none of this is being recorded.

'Maybe he isn't the villain I thought he was? Could he just be a really good actor, or is all of this real?' For now, there is nothing I can do except wait for his videos to be uploaded and hope I haven't somehow walked into a trap.

"Aww, you know I didn't mean it, baby. You're a handsome man and I like your face too much."

'Okay, whoa. Is this guy messing around or is he flirting with me really badly? Does he not know how old I am or is he just into much older guys? Either way, this is not going to end well for me if he thinks I have been flirting back: he's like fifteen and I'm twenty-five. Even through Skype, he could try to get me for statutory rape or some other charge if I piss him off. On the other hand, he is just so awkward altogether... I have to be misreading him because, as Jerome always says, this is bad.'

"O-kay? Is that... a compliment?"

"Of course it's a compliment! Would you rather have me say I didn't like your face?"

'Yes.'

"I guess not. I just wasn't expecting you to say something like that."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something nice?" He pauses for a second and I can hear him typing something for a second before he answers.

"Now don't be a pleb." I give an involuntary snort of laughter and he laughs back at me while he continues typing. "Hey, I hate to run but my mom's e-mailing me from downstairs and she's threatening to turn off the Wi-Fi. Are you gonna be around for a little while?" He sounds so hopeful that I almost feel bad turning him down.

"No, I have some major video grinding to do tonight before I leave, and I really just need to suck it up and finish this new series. It was a good time tonight, though."

"Where're you going?"

"What?"

"You said you were leaving. Where're you going?"

"My family has this huge get-together every year for the holidays and all the birthdays and reunions and everything, so I'm going to be gone until the 27th or so. Why do you ask?" It might seem harsh, even heartless, to bait him like this, but the more I learn about him now, the less I have to stress about or figure out later on.

"Oh. So you won't be around to record for a while, then."

"No, not until the end of the month. Why, did you have something in mind?"

"I just thought... maybe we could record some more mini games or a quick series or something together? Maybe?"

'Dear God, he acts like he is asking me out on a date. Why does he have to make this so complicated and awkward?'

"Sure, we can figure it out over the vacation or something. You know, my family lives in the middle of Quebec, not the vast wilderness of Nunavut. We still have electricity and internet, even though that only works about half of the time."

"Okay, yeah, that sounds great! Just on YouTube or...?"

"Preston!" A wave of pity washes over me; I can hardly imagine how loud his mom must have screamed if I can hear her through his headphone mic behind a closed door and down a flight of stairs.

"That will work. Talk to you later."

"Yeah, thanks again for everything."

"No problem, man." I disconnect the Skype call and minimize the program, my Minecraft character's face two blocks away from a spaced out, dead-eyed, pixelated cow. "Well Procy, shall we do some editing while we wait for the wheat to grow and the cows to cook?" The laptop answers with its typical silence, and I back up the new footage to my external hard drive while I open the hard-won blueberry Pop Tart I had fished out of the vending machine with a hanger. Tonight is going to be a very, very long night.