OMEGLE FAN FICTION

Based on a true chat

Motherfucker. Another Brazilian.

It had only been a few days, but already Omegle had become one of Dustin's favorite ways to while away time on the internet, even more so than Youtube commenting. Actually, Omegle was a lot like Youtube commenting, in that you say funny things like "FAIL" and thirteen-year-old Simpsons quotes, but it was also way better, because the person you were screwing around with was right there, on the line, in real time.

Not that there weren't drawbacks. This was where the Brazilians came in. For some reason there were tons of fifteen-year-old Brazilians who were just as fond of saying "FAIL" as Dustin usually was. The difference was when someone did it to him, Dustin felt like he was going to cry. Because he was different.

Dustin clicked "Start a new conversation" and braced himself. But then Dustin had an idea. In an inspired flash fueled by the pleasurable jolt his brilliant wit gave him, he quickly typed out "THIS BETTER NOT BE A GODDAMN BRAZILIAN!"

Dustin sat back and smiled. God, he was clever. Jeff Dunham clever. He was starting to think about touching himself when The Stranger replied.

"Oh no! I know what you mean! I can't stand them either!"

And then again, a few moments later:

"I mean, what is that?"

The genuine offer of commiseration with an actual human being made Dustin's annoyance at the Brazilians mellow considerably. He didn't need or want anyone to actually connect with anyone, no matter how insignificantly; those energies he got out on XBox Live. He just wanted to say "FAIL."

"Meh," Dustin replied to The Stranger.

"Dunno," he added a moment later.

The Stranger was quiet. Often Omegle had these kinds of lulls. Such was the nature of live chatting. But this one grew and grew, becoming prairie-like and disquieting. It was the kind of gap that made Dustin feel smaller outside of himself, but bigger on the inside, because that was all he had to look at. Even though it was not his turn, he began to hastily compose an "asl" when the reply finally came.

"It's a strange phenomenon," The Stranger said.

"All of these so-called brazilians."

Dustin deleted the "a" and "s" he had already typed as he thought of a reply.

"i guess," he said. "What do you mean so called?"

The "Your partner has disconnected." came about fifteen seconds later. Dustin was glad. He clicked the "Start a new conversation" button and typed "entertain me." Then he leaned back in his chair, took a drink from his widemouth bottle of Mountain Dew Cherry Fusion, and waited to be entertained.