The third week after summer break, Billy descended upon the playground like a swarm of mad locusts. He destroyed everything in his path. Poor Stanley, playing with his starter deck by the slide, making sure his Caterpie weren’t bent and that each card was aligned in the same direction. Stanley was the first to fall. Then Chad. Then Marissa. Kyle. Ben. Louis. Pat. Shawn. The other Louis. None could stand against the might of Billy and his deck. His technique was flawless. The Scyther Switch took out David. The Gengar Gulag. Dratini’s Drowning. The Estonian Eggsecutor. How could we defend against such an onslaught? Principal Namblis tried to put an end to it all, but she was a fool to attempt such a feat. After the battle (Battle? It was a massacre), Jeff got a peek at her deck. It was full of Clefairy. Not a single Item, not a single Trainer card, not even any Energy cards. Madness.
Billy’s reign began after that. All the girls wanted to give him kisses, and he was alright with that. After all, he got the best cootie shots. Health care was shitty for the rest of us. The bullies took lunch money, but half of it went to the tyrant. There was always a line during bathroom break because Billy had decided to reserve all but one stall for himself. I don’t even remember what chocolate milk tastes like. I’ve been drinking this 2% filth ever since he took it all for himself. “Happy birthday, dear Jeanie”? You mean “Happy birthday, dear Billy.” We don’t know how, but he finished all three cakes when the triplets had their birthday. The guy never seemed to be at his desk or even in the classroom, yet he still had gold star stickers shooting out of his ass. The teachers milled about in the hallways during recess after Billy decided to make the teachers’ lounge his base. He took their coffee, and they took their aggression out on us. One minute, Beth is the shining star of the class. Then Mr. Rodriguez gives her her first “B” when he misses his morning espresso. Now she just sits on the Reading Rug shivering and whispering to the books.
Sveider, the fat kid from Holland, tried an insurrection. He followed Billy home and studied him for days. The motherfucker was on Billy like a Shelder on a Slowpoke that’s about to evolve. Finally, Sveider made his move. Billy came back home one day and was playing Pod Racers in his room when Sveider sneaked out from under his bed and ambushed him. It’s wasn’t very effective. Poor Sveider, he was using Digimon cards the whole time. Pokémon doesn’t translate too well into Dutch.
Victor tried to knock some sense into Billy, vis-a-vis a fist to his freckled face. Something must have gone wrong with Victor’s pituitary gland — the guy is huge. An easy fight, yeah? Not so, it turns out. Billy carried a deck of cards around at all times, and he knew how to use them for more than just card battles. The teachers ended up telling the paramedics that Victor got all those paper cuts from a mishap during origami time in art class. Two weeks later, when I went to Victor’s house to give him the homework he’d missed, Victor wouldn’t let me in because he said I looked a bit too much like Mr. Mime. The kid had gone batshit insane, but Billy tends to have that effect on people.
The rest of us have given up hope. What’s the point? Billy already won all of our best cards from us; there’s no way any of us can beat him. He is unstoppable. I’ve heard he’s making plans to take over the private school across town as well. He’s expanding his empire. For now, I’m just glad he still lets us use the jungle gym on Wednesdays.
If only I hadn’t lent him my Charizard.