Felix Kjellberg, known to the world as PewDiePie, opened his bright blue eyes and saw what a beautiful morning it was outside. He got up, stretched his arms, and smiled at the dew on the grass.
“Oh, Brighton! How did a wretch like me ever come to take residence in such a beautiful realm? How did I ever earn such a blessing?”
Felix then made himself a cup of coffee and began answering some emails. It didn’t take all that long because he was feeling particularly motivated that morning. “Hmm,” he muttered, eyes narrowed at the tab he now kept perpetually open, “it seems that T-Series has risen overnight. This will not do.”
So Felix quickly opened up his Twitter account and tweeted out ‘subscribe to pewdiepie’, that rallying chant against the corporate behemoth, that challenge to his subscriber prowess. The comments were instantaneous and they gratified him. It was easy to work his followers into a frenzy – a little bait and soon their prejudices against the Indian race would elevate him above and beyond T-Series once again. ‘Let’s just remind them who we’re fighting!’ Felix clicked tweet and smiled. Those teenagers would get it, he thought to himself. He didn’t know why ‘subscribe to pewdiepie’ was etched into a Holocaust memorial, but that was a thought for another day. After doing these daily tasks, he was free to enjoy himself before heading to work. Felix then scrolled through his feed to see what he had missed overnight. “Lol, Prison Planet. Commies are that way. Molyneux, lmao. Muslims DO be like that.” It was too early in the morning to retweet, but a simple like, and Felix had sent the message that he appreciated their words.
“Brighton, I just know that today is going to be great.”
Soon after 9am, he felt he was ready to begin a day’s work. It was time to game. For you see, Felix Kjellberg was no ordinary man. He was a gamer. In fact, the most successful gamer of all time. He had risen up – and those who followed him had risen up too. O’, there had been challenges. O’, my white God, had there been bumps in the road. But yet, with a wink and a smile, he had persevered. He had beaten back the waves of mediocrity that spewed from the PC Brigade – the little people, jealous of his enviable success. “I was on South Park, you know.” No one was there to answer him.
Even Disney had failed him – all for something as little as ‘anti-semitism’. Kek, he thought. He salted his chicken strips – no other seasonings required – and furrowed his eyebrows, thinking about the past. “‘Death to Jews’ was clearly a joke! I got paid anyway! “ So really, who won? In the end, the horde would not control him.
And so his day began. Oh, it was fruitful. Indeed, Felix’s audience engagement was of a particularly high level today. He was in such a good mood that he thought he’d take a moment to share one of his favourite channels. It went rather well – though a couple of users complained, they were just crybabies. If you can’t handle content different from your hive mind, then you’re going to have trouble in life. “If they were homophobic and anti-semitic, don’t you think I’d know that? Like, damn, chill out.” It was like when he got ‘called out’ for saying the n word and taking photos making white supremacist hand signals. The libs thought they had him by his immaculately shaven balls, but they lost – libs losing was a daily occurrence, lol. Kids really just don’t know what a joke is nowadays, damn. “Things are different in gaming culture, dude” he muttered.
Eventually, Felix was tired. He had spent a long day playing his games and responding to fans, telling them about how fun it was to be 15. He was so glad that he had an audience that would listen to his every word, it made communication so easy. It had been a worthwhile day. Scrolling on his phone in bed, he went through some more tweets before commencing shut-eye. His heart fluttered with joy when he say Ben Shapiro on the timeline, and he did his first retweet of the day. “Fuck yes, Ben. Muslim immigration IS a threat to my society.” He knew Ben was right and he was glad his audience would know too.
His jobs done, Felix Kjellberg knew it was time for sleep. He opened his window and said goodnight to Brighton, his new home. The land that had taken him in when the sights of Sweden weren’t enough for him, all those years ago. Rest, my sweet child. I am your protector. Your guardian.
Felix fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. It had been a good day.