Chapter
1
Enemy
of the School
Randy was a loser. Not just any ordinary loser, but Randy must have been the king of losers. Plus he was the only reason why I found interest at school. Whenever I got angry or frustrated, all I had to do was find Randy Ferguson and release my stress upon him. It always made my day.
And Randy's Pokémon were also losers, and they'd always be that way since they always got beat up badly every time he battled. I must have made Randy's Pidgey and Nidoran kiss dirt at least twenty times, but I've lost track of how many times I've really beaten him. Randy also had a Growlithe and a Caterpie, and I've knocked their lights out plenty of times. Obviously, Randy was too stupid to know how to really battle.
Alex and David, two of my best friends also hated Randy's guts. While I liked to slowly torture Randy's Pokémon in a battle, Alex wiped out Randy's Pokémon so fast it was hilarious. David on the other hand liked to just outright pound the stuffing out of Randy's Pokémon with his Rhydon and his Tyranitar. Randy said he's been a trainer for nearly two years. To me, he was practically on the same level as a beginner. Truly pathetic.
We only got caught once picking on Randy, and it was in the hallway between class. But all the other times, Randy pointed blame at us but just had nothing to prove it. One day, Alex put a stink-bomb in Randy's desk while he was away, and when Randy came back and threw his books in, he broke the glass and the whole classroom stank for the entire day. Of course, we only did it once. That was with all the fun stuff we did to him. We could only do it once otherwise he'd begin to catch on.
Another amusement came from my birthday. Normally, whenever someone's birthday comes up, their mom makes cupcakes for everyone in the class. My mom did the same thing, and I sprinkled them all sorts of colors, red, yellow, blue, and purple. Each cupcake was its own color, but for Randy, I sprinkled his green to indicate to me which one I would hand to him. After I made sure mom wasn't looking, I slipped a laxative tablet into the green-sprinkled cupcake. When I handed it to Randy the next day, he ate it so fast and it was a struggle not to burst out laughing. After a hilarious series of events, Randy's new nickname was "potty-pants" for the rest of the school year. Still, he didn't have an ounce of proof.
Since my allowance was small, I needed to rely on Randy's lunch money as a considerable income. I never felt guilty about it. Heck, I figured that if Randy had the school lunch everyday, he'd become just as fat as Frank Meyers, who we'd always call "shirt-burster" on a regular basis. I was doing Randy a favor by making sure he wouldn't eat that day. I then considered that his lunch money was income for my services. It wasn't much, but a dollar a day ended up being thirty bucks a month. That was prime cash!
