Chapter 1: Abnormal Physicality

There are two types of losers: hopeless losers and losers. A hopeless loser lives with his parents, does not have a job, and has no friends. A hopeless loser has a lot of free time to play video games, watch TV, read, and surf the internet (mostly for porn). Actually, those are the only activities the hopeless loser does. A hopeless loser knows he is a hopeless loser but is perfectly happy with it. A loser, on the other hand, does not live with his parents. He has a job, but it pays near minimum wage. He has no friends, but he does have acquaintances who occasionally hang out with him. He spends as much time as possible playing video games, watching TV, reading, and surfing the internet (mostly for porn). He spends half of his day working and even sucks up some time going to movies restaurants with acquaintances.

I am loser. In the unlikely event I somehow make it big and become rich, I will become a hopeless loser (except I won't live with my parents). This is my dream. It continues to mystify me why Bill Gates doesn't quit working. If I were him, I'd buy a mansion and live there. Maybe hire some live-in hookers or find a gold-digger willing to forgo a real relationship in favor of sex when I want and money when she wants.

My sister, on the other hand, is a winner. She's rich, owns a strong company, and has tons of friends. Boys are lining up to take her out. Unfortunately, most of them are gold diggers. The rest of them are interested in her mostly because of her beautiful tits. She also has a beautiful smile, but I doubt any of her dates have ever looked at her face long enough to see it. Those rare few men who honestly want a relationship are too intimidated by her looks and wealth to pursue one. I suspect such men wouldn't be able to handle a relationship with someone richer than them, anyhow.

Despite being a winner, my sister is not any happier than me. She does not seem to mind being a winner, so I am not going to suggest she become a loser. However, she tends to have a crisis at least once a month. She'll call and whine about being forced to fire a manager or, far more frequently, about all the losers who keep dumping her as soon as they realize she isn't going to share her money or body with them.

I think my obvious contempt for the men breaking up with my sister is part of the reason she calls me. As a loser myself, I do have a modicum of empathy for her dates. However, I also think they are idiots for not just putting up with my sister until she marries them. If they'd only marry her, they'd have access to her money and her body. Most of these guys aren't getting sex from anyone else so it isn't like such a commitment would reduce their sex intake. With how much time my sister spends working, pretending to be in love with my sister would not take much time or effort on the part of a boyfriend. I don't feel guilty about such thoughts. The boyfriend would be happy, my sister would be happy, everybody would be happy! It's a win-win situation.

I have never explained any of this to my sister. She is seeking Mr. Right but he doesn't exist. Her dates are too stupid to realize that she is Mrs. Best-You'll-Get. Unachievable goals are nothing new in life, but knowing they are unachievable doesn't make life any easier. So, I say nothing. My sister remains unhappy with her love life, but at least she has hope. I remain a loser, but I'm just as happy as everybody else.

It was while talking my sister through yet another break-up that I had the idea. I admit this idea probably makes me an asshole. No, it definitely makes me an asshole. Still, it will make my sister happy, it will make me happy — it's a win-win situation. The first step in my plan to become Mr. Right for my sister was to move to an apartment a couple miles from her. Finding a new job was easy. If you don't mind being a clerk for a grocery store or fast food place, finding a job is never a problem. I laugh when non-losers have trouble finding a job. The next time my sister complained about yet another man (idiot!) breaking up with her, I was there to comfort her in person.

"Look," I said to her, "let's go somewhere nice. You can do all the stuff you usually like to do with your dates, with me."

"But you're my brother."

"Exactly. I won't expect a second date or anything, but I also won't try to get you to give me money. I won't ask for sex. All those silly things your boyfriend said he dumped you for? I don't mind! For once, you can have Mr. Right, even if only for a day."

My sister was skeptical, but we'd gone out to eat together before. This wasn't really anything different. In fact, the only difference at all was that when I kissed her good night (on the cheek), her eyes widened a little. Even if she didn't consciously realize anything was different, I knew she had not thought about this as just another day with her brother. If she noticed that I now seemed to spent a little more time with her after that than normal, it was clearly only because I now lived much closer to her.