When Bad Bunny hosted Saturday Night Live last October, touting the recent announcement of his Super Bowl halftime show, Niklaus Miller was enraptured.
The 29-year-old loved the singer's drapey shirt, flowy pants and self-deprecating jokes. And when Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio looked directly into the camera during the opening monologue, Miller felt that the mega star was peering into his soul.
"That seems like he's talking to me! As a lot of beautiful men on TV do," Miller, an actor, screenwriter and editor, remembers thinking from his couch in his apartment in Los Angeles.
Then, Bad Bunny spoke to the audience in Spanish without translating, telling more than 4 million people watching that if they didn't understand what he'd said, they had four months to learn. Miller, as a non-Spanish speaker, again felt that the message was directed at him.
"I was like, 'This is it. I gotta learn the songs,'" he told NPR. "I heard the call."
Miller figured that at least some of the lyrics were already rattling around in his head on a subconscious level, since he's been a fan of Bad Bunny's since 2020. He listens to the Puerto Rican artist's songs while working out, in the car and at clubs.
"So obviously, I'm like, 'You know what? That won't be that hard … 'cause I'm delusional," he said, laughing.
Alone in his bedroom, he landed on a song — "Titi Me Pregunto" — and hit record on his phone. The resulting video was "humbling" and "embarrassing," he said, but it was also hilarious.
"It made me laugh watching it. So I was like, I'm going to put it out there … and I thought it would make a good series," Miller.
He was right. In the months since, the self-described "little white guy from Ohio," has become an internet darling for chronicling his enthusiastic, yet arduous, struggle to learn a handful of songs before the halftime show on February 8. His videos, posted on Tik Tok and Instagram, have amassed millions of views, and strangers around the world have joined him on the months-long journey.
"It's spread like wildfire," he said.
In the comment section, fans immediately offered words of encouragement and tips on pronunciation, specifically Puerto Rican Spanish and slang. Hundreds weighed in, telling him to drop the "s" at the end of words and swap out v's for b's. One fan wrote, "OMG I'm soooo invested in this journey!!! This is so wholesome and funny at the same time!!!" Another remarked, "@badbunnypr has hit the lotto with you! You are taking his assignment and uniting us all under your learning!"
First- and second-generation Latinos who have a hard time speaking Spanish, and refer to themselves as "no sabos" (literally translated to "don't knows" in English), are raining fire emojis on Miller's feeds. "It's little things like this that help us 'no sabos' survive 🤣," one fan commented.
Most of Miller's audition series is pretty low-tech. He shoots the videos from his desk as he shimmies and sings into a karaoke microphone reading lyrics from a computer screen. He has a theory about why the lo-fi videos have taken off: For many people, it's become a respite from the daily barrage of news. And, it's a response to the xenophobic rhetoric slamming the NFL for choosing the Latino singer for the half-time show. (The gist of their gripes is that a Spanish-language show is un-American, despite the fact that Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens.)
"People are saying my videos get them through a hard time because we are in very hard times. And so it just feels really good to showcase my joy and bring it to other people and get invited to the carne asada," he said. (A carne asada is a Latino cookout.)
A "Mediocre Bunny" is born
Miller's viral stardom inspired him to come up with a new moniker. "About a week in is when Mediocre Bunny was born," Miller joked. And a new, even more ambitious dream took hold: To get a sponsor to send him to what he calls "The Mr. Bunny Bowl."
Among the barrage of messages that poured into Miller's DMs during those early days was one from Sarah North, the chief creative officer of the media company that owns Cocina, a Latino lifestyle website. She wrote with an offer: Cocina would help amplify Miller's reach through a series of branded posts with the goal of getting Miller to the game. A sort of "build it and they will come" approach to securing a ticket to the show.
"He's just so genuine, so authentic, and so self-aware, and kind of all the things that you're hoping you can manage to ingest when you open a social media platform right now," North told NPR. She also noted that language learning is "surging" on social media — case in point, Duolingo recently launched "Bad Bunny 101."
North's team and Miller came up with a plan to end the online series with a bang. "Because I always have to make everything even harder for myself, I thought, I'll learn the songs and then do a performance showcasing everything I've learned. Then I thought, the performance will be an audition. Audition for who? For the universe!" Miller said with a laugh.
"That is typical Nik," Miller's older sister and roommate, Ally Miller, told NPR. "When he wants to do something, he really goes for it," especially when it comes to performing. She added: "He is delusional, like he says, but he puts in the work."
In recent weeks, Miller ramped up his efforts, practicing for more than a dozen hours each week. Making dinner he sang songs on repeat using a language-learning app called LyricFluent. Waiting in line for coffee, he reviewed flashcards with the lyrics written out phonetically.
"I even have my therapist help me during our therapy sessions because I'm so stressed out about it and he wants to help me," Miller said.
On Wednesday, he posted the culmination of all that work: a seven-minute medley of seven songs, shot with the Hollywood sign in the background, and all in a single take. Of course, there were multiple costume changes.
He nailed it. And his fans bombarded the NFL, Bad Bunny, the Seahawks and the Patriots with pleas to send Miller to the Super Bowl.
And they got their wish. Miller is headed to the San Francisco Bay Area to catch the game at Levi stadium. In the end, North said she and her colleagues were moved by Miller's commitment and bought him the $6,000 ticket.
"It's taken on this much larger drumbeat of enthusiasm," she said. So when faced with the question, will the Mediocre Bunny get to the Mr. Bunny Bowl? "Our answer was yes!"
Miller will be attending solo, but North is certain he won't remain alone for long. "Knowing Niklaus, my best guess is that by the end of the game, he's gonna be lifelong friends with… whoever ends up in his section," she added.
But Miller isn't finished manifesting more Bad Bunny related dreams.
"A lot of people would love to see me in the casita," he said. "So if we could get there, let's do that."
For those not in the know, the casita is a little house on Bad Bunny's stage filled with celebrities, beautiful people and special guests. And why shouldn't he fit right in?
Copyright 2026 NPR
