Surrounded by a circle of bros, I'm swaying back and forth, playing a bongo drum while squinting toward the bright-blue sky. A brau throws me a pair of devil sticks; I bongo with my feet and say, "I'm soooo ready to send the sickness once the weather clears."

     "Whooooaaa, so, like, how do you do it AlphaBrah?" one chick says. She's so furry I think she has Buckwheat in a headlock, but it's all good. Maybe she and I can hook it up later.

     I flip my hair and reply, "Look, when I get up in the afternoon I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like anybody."

     "That's what I'm talkin' about," another bro says.

     "Namaste, brau," squeals another, trying to hold his bong hit.

     "It's just that when I do," I continue, "I blast the Enormodome in one hour, twenty-three minutes, and seventeen-point-eight-three seconds. That's just how I roll." I strip down.

     "Ohhh, it's on! It's on!" they cheer, tweaking with bro-mantic adulation.

     "It's on like Donkey Kong," I say.

     "Let's do this!" another yells.

     "Here, hold my shirt," I say coolly, looking away and tossing it into the circle. "I'm gonna go slack some line."