By Drefsab

The obscene caterwauling came from the living room. My 16 year old brother Jason had fallen in love with Enrique Iglesias.

"My God will you shut the fuck up?" I hollered from the kitchen.

"Yooooou caaan taaaaake my breath away," was the only response.

"Geez you are a faggot," I yelled as I continued to work on my roast beef sandwich.

I had seated myself on one of the bar stools and taken my first bite when Jason strolled into the kitchen.

"Why you gotta be knockin' Enrique all the time?"

"'Cause he's a fucking faggot," I said through wheat and mayonnaise.

"Dude, he is not. Come on, he was making out with Anna Kournikova on MTV the other day. You gotta respect that."

"Let me rephrase that. You are a fucking faggot for liking his music. You want Enrique to hump you don't you?" I giggled and started to choke on my sandwich.

"You are such an idiot," Jason growled, turned, and stomped from the kitchen.

"Why don't you try to get him to play Starcraft with you? That would definitely push you over the edge into orgasmic bliss," I yelled at his retreating figure.

"Fuck you!" came his fading reply as he headed out the front door.

A couple days later Jason hollered at me to come into the den. When I got in there he was pointing excitedly at the screen.

"Check this out Andrew!"

I began to read. It was an email from a hotmail account. The address looked like random letters to me. Something 'nwtr', I don't remember exactly.

Hi Jason,

Just wanted to let you know that I got your e-mail and I have played quite a bit of Starcraft although I haven't played much lately. I got pretty good but my ISP was real shitty. I think the company I used disconnected the latinos first when they ran out of bandwidth.

Believe it or not, you are the first fan of my music to ever to ask me if I play Starcraft and so I think I will take you up on your offer and play a game with you. I hang out in a channel called NoHunters. Take the channel name literally. If we're to play, it can't be on a Hunters map. I don't do BGH.

If you're really interested, I will meet you in channel clan ~nohunters at 7:30pm eastern time.

Regards,
Enrique

"It is not!" yelled Jason, "This is totally legit. I wrote to his official fan email address yesterday."

"You are such a fucking moron," I laughed loudly, "Notice the reply came from a Hotmail account. This is so fake. Who did you tell about this?"

Jason frowned thoughtfully, "A couple of my friends, but I don't think they'd do something like this. Brian doesn't even have a computer."

I shook my head in disgust. You are so gullible if you fall for this. I don't even want to be associated with you if you truly believe that Enrique Iglesias wastes time on a fucking computer game.

Jason glared at me, "Well, what if it really is him? I can't let an opportunity like this slip away. I'm at least going to the channel and playing a game with him."

"haha, fine whatever," I headed back to my bedroom and picked up my guitar. "My brother is a fucking retard," I sang in the key of G.

I was watching a Simpsons rerun. The one where Homer keeps eating shit and gets huge. Suddenly my brother was standing over me.

"Well?"

I turned my head, "Well what?"

"Well, are you going to come watch me play Starcraft versus Enrique Iglesias?"

I coughed, "Hell no, and let me reiterate my previous statement that you are a fucking retard."

"Come on Andrew, if it really is him I'll need a witness or no one will believe me."

The commercials started, it was that fucking 'stop buying drugs and judges will stop being assasinated' commercial. I flipped off the TV and followed my brother. I could make fun of him for the rest of his life if nothing else.

He sat down at the computer desk and I pulled up a barstool behind him. I watched him log in and seriously just about got up and left when I saw him log in as 'EI-Fan'. Instead I slapped him across the head, "Please tell me you don't use that account all the time when you play." He looked back at me with a sheepish grin.

It was 7:30 right on the button when a new person popped into the channel. Almost immediately he messaged my brother, "Hey its Enrique, are you ready to play?"

"Hahaha, what a stupid fucking handle," I said.

"Shut up, it is not," my brother retorted.

"Fuck yeah it is, reminds me of fast food."

My brother gamely ignored me and they discussed the details of their game. They picked a map called Lost Tabernacle or some shit and my brother ended up with Blue Humans.

I hadn't really played many computer games as they are for nerds and rejects with no social skills. However, I knew enough to realize that the graphics on this game were for shit and I said as much.

"Shut up," my brother retorted, "The game was made all the way back in 1998!"

"What, they didn't have 3d back then?" I scoffed.

He ignored me, he was concentrating intensely now. He obviously wanted to beat his pop idol very badly. I snickered as his marines got shredded by some sort of underground spikes.

"Looks like you're losing," I said.

After a couple of minutes my brother started to build another base but these flying dragons attacked it and destroyed it. They probably would have destroyed his first base too if my brother hadn't had about 10 surface to air missile thingies built all over the place. Then my brother started taking pictures of the places on the map he hadn't been yet. Everywhere he looked there was purple slime, orange blobs floating around, and ugly pulsating buildings.

"This game is fucking retarded," I said and started to get up to leave.

A startled "what the...?" from my brother made me stop though. I looked at the screen. I dark rectangular shadow had appeared with the words 'Waiting for players: T_Mac' written on it. A countdown timer started at 45.

"I can't believe this," my brother yelled, "He's disconnecting on me."

"huh?" I was puzzled.

"It means his Internet connection went down and he is no longer communicating with my computer."

"Whatever, that guy's an imposter. You don't think a multi-million dollar pop star could afford to buy the type of Internet that doesn't break while you're playing a game?" I said.

"You're probably right," admitted my brother with a look of disappointment, "Whoever he was though, he was damn good. He was kicking my ass."

I shook my head with despair. My brother was such a loser. I returned to the living room. The Simpsons were over but a Seinfeld rerun was just starting. In a couple of minutes I'd completely forgotten about my brother's geeky computer game.

Deja vu. I was in my bedroom a couple days later playing my guitar when my brother hollered at me to come into the den. He had another e-mail for me to read. It was from the same address as the other.

Hey Jason,

Thanks for the game the other night. I beat you pretty bad huh? Too bad I got disconnected. You probably don't believe it was really me so watch my MTV concert tonight.

Regards,
Enrique

The concert started at 8. My brother and I sat on the couch watching.

"This is a sick fucking joke and its not funny," I said as Enrique started to sing.

I really wanted to cover my ears. The high pitched latin voice assaulted my eardrums. I was sure that they would start to bleed soon. To make matters worse, my faggoty brother was actually singing along.

"Noooooooooooooooowwww that youuuuuurrrr goooooooone, I'm not gonna make you stay."

"Oh my God shut the fuck up!!"

I turned to slug my brother, but I didn't have to. He had stopped singing. His eyes were wide and the blood drained from his face. I looked back at the television screen. Enrique had turned his back to the audience and was shaking his butt. The crazed women were reaching up out of the pit trying to reach it. But I wasn't looking at the women and I wasn't looking at Enrique's butt; I was looking at his jacket. It was black leather and bright white letters were emblazoned on the back."

"Oh my holy Lord," I said.

I looked over at my brother, he had passed out and was lying on the floor.

Epilogue:
To this day no one believes me or my brother. Personally I don't give a rat's ass. I don't want my name associated with some faggoty latin pop star. But it pisses my brother off. Sometimes he tells the story to one of his friends and when they laugh at him he looks at me and says, "Isn't it true Andrew?" and I smile, wink, and say, "whatever you say Jason."