Buford: Age 2
"Jack! Don't you dare leave me and Buford alone!" Biffany Van Stomm shouted ferociously.
"Why shouldn't I? You've always talked about how tough you are! See if raising a bloody kid will 'toughen you up,' cause I ain't gonna be part of that no more!" her husband shouted back, his gravelly voice hoarse and slurred, with the stench of alcohol evident in the living room.
A toddler Buford Van Stomm, swaddled in a diaper, could only stare in horror as the noise level increased to an earthshaking volume. This has been a common occurrence ever since he was born, but this one so far has been the loudest.
"He's our child! You're supposed to be a caring, loving father to this boy!"
"I SAID I AIN'T GONNA BE PART OF THAT NO MORE!"
At the end of that final sentence, Jackson Van Stomm stormed out of the house, never to be seen again.
Biffany fell to her knees and started sobbing uncontrollably. Her husband, irascible as he may be, has always been a loving man, upholding the Van Stomm tradition of being a caring husband to the utmost degree. That all changed when Buford was born; Jackson was unprepared for fatherhood, and soon found himself struggling between his job, his wife, and his newborn child. The stress eventually proved to be too much and Jackson soon slipped into alcoholism, causing the end of what was once thought to be a loving marriage.
Right when a new wave of sadness was about to erupt within her, Biffany felt a gentle pat on her shoulder. Turning around, she was astonished to find that baby Buford, who has never before been able to walk for an extended duration, has managed to reach her from the sofa to where she was lying on the kitchen floor, a good 20 feet away.
"Mama…" Buford cooed, trying to wrap his arms around his beloved mother, only to fail and trip onto the floor bottom first. Despite her sorrow, Biffany could not help but laugh at her son. Oh, if only Jack was here to see this!
"Oh my sweet child," Biffany murmured, picking up the toddler. "You have been so gentle and caring since you were born. I know that when you grow up that things may change, but I hope that this side of you never, ever goes away."
Biffany tickled Buford under his chin, causing him to gurgle happily and wave his arms around. With a bittersweet sigh, Biffany proceeded over to the nursery room. I will never leave you alone Buford, thought the now single mother. For that is the Van Stomm way.
Buford: Age 5
"Hello, nerd! Well, well, what have we here! Looks like you brought me lunch!"
It just wasn't fair; Buford finally had a friend after countless failed attempts in preschool. He tried to share his toys and coloring books with the other kids, but they just kept ignoring him, calling him names like 'crybaby' and 'wimp' while stealing his stuff. Then the carnival came along, and when he won the goldfish from the hammer game, he could not be any happier. But he just had to run into the local bully on his way back home, and now his newfound best friend was about to be eaten.
At that moment, something cracked inside Buford. Being nice didn't get him anywhere, and asking nicely was not going to save Biff. He was NOT going to let anyone hurt his best friend, no matter how big or small they were. So, with his newfound anger, Buford charged at the bully, screaming at the top of his lungs over the possibility of losing his one and only friend.
30 minutes later, Buford bursted into the house and stormed into the kitchen in excitement, where his mother was rolling out pie dough.
"Mama! Mama! I got a goldfish from the carnival!" Buford exclaimed, his gravelly voice teeming with joy.
"Oh that's wonderful honey! What did you name him?" His mother asked, clearly very happy for her son.
"I named him Biff, after you! And he's going to be my best friend!" Buford cried out, hugging the bag with the goldfish inside very tightly.
"Oh Buford…" Biffany replied, her eyes sparkling at the fact that her precious son named his pet after her.
"But ma, some meanie tried to take Biff from me and eat him…" Buford said, looking down at his feet ashamedly.
Biffany stopped rolling the dough and looked at her son pointedly. "What happened afterwards?" Biffany asked, narrowing her eyes as she pondered the possible outcomes.
"I beat him up, Ma. I got so angry at him; I couldn't let him take Biff away from me! He was my only friend!" Buford cried out, looking apologetic at what he had done. "They always try to take something from me," he murmured, looking at Biff sadly.
"Buford, while I don't like how you had to use violence to solve that problem, I'm proud of you for standing up for what you wanted," Biffany said, ruffling her son's hair. "We are Van Stomms Buford," she said, "And Van Stomms will always be there to defend what they want and who they love, no matter who gets in their way, do you understand?"
"Yes, mama," Buford said. It was at that moment that Buford decided that to no one will ever hurt him again. Being nice wasn't going to get him what he wanted; he was going to have to take it by force, just like how he had to take Biff back from the local bully.
Buford: Ages 8-13
Ever since that day, Buford tried very hard to show off his rough and gruff bully persona as often as possible. He usually picked on one person (unfortunately, this was usually Baljeet) to punch, sit on, give wedgies and wet willies.
However, as the years passed by. It was clear to Buford's friends that the bully persona was merely a facade to cover up a much softer person inside. No matter how often he threatened his friends, no matter how often he chewed tuff gum, Phineas, Ferb, Isabella and his 'nerd' Baljeet were all able to see through Buford's bully persona quite easily. Instead of punching nerds, Buford likes to sing French romantic songs to remind himself of his respect to the culture. Instead of giving wet willies, Buford likes to read and recite Shakespeare (When Phineas built the haunted house for Isabella, his recital of "Wash away the horror!" was attributed to Macbeth).
Fortunately, Buford's friends all had the good grace to not mention this directly, choosing instead to pretend that Buford is still the neighborhood bully (though poor Baljeet had to pack extra underwear to maintain this cover) but still invite him to every single activity that they do.
Buford did not mind this in the slightest, because while on the outside he seemed indifferent about the things they all do, inside Buford was having the time of his life with friends he never thought he would have. However, everyone throughout the school still saw Buford as the feared bully, with strength and ferocity to match. It was only a matter of time before Buford was forced to make a choice between what he pretends to be and what he truly wants…
Buford: Age 14
"Hey Van Stomm! You're the kid that the coach was talking so much about right?"
Buford quickly closed his copy of Les Misérables, shoving it into his backpack as quickly as possible, and looked up. Five towering faces were glaring down at him at the cafeteria table, each of them resembling the build and appearance of a refrigerator (head included) wearing a football letterman jacket.
"Ya, that's me," Buford replied, returning their glares with a menacing one of his own. "Ya got a problem with that?"
The football players continued to stare down at Buford until eventually, one of them lost his composure and started to smile.
"Yea, you're as tough as the coach said you were," one of the football players said, chuckling. "The name's Tanner Steel, I'm the varsity captain," offering his hand out to the tall freshman, who hesitantly took it. "We want you to come out to the field after school today and show us what you're made of. If you're good enough, you might even start on the varsity team for next week's game."
Buford kept his glare fixed onto Tanner, but inside his mind was screaming. I was gonna help Mr. Krause grade those AP French essays after school today, damn it! Buford thought ferociously to himself.
"Ya got it, Steel. You better be prepared," Buford replied, never taking his eyes off of the football captain. Tanner gave a respectful nod in reply, and then motioned the other four to leave with him.
Buford sat back on his chair and sighed. This ain't gonna be a good day, Buford thought to himself.
Two weeks later:
"And it seems that Will Parker, #16, starting running back for the Danville Knights, has been injured to where he can no longer play for the evening. The score is now 22-17, with the Tri-State Wolves leading in the 4th quarter." The announcer rumbled as a dark-skinned young man was carted off on a stretcher to the ambulance. The students on the stands shared looks of unease; they had a good chance of making it to the state championship this year with Will, and now the chances of even reaching the playoffs seemed slim.
"VAN STOMM!" a voice shouted out, military-like in both tone and volume. "You're up!"
"Alright, Coach Sanders!" Buford shouted, as he strapped on his helmet with a grunt and ran out to the field.
"Taking Parker's place for tonight as the starting running back will be freshman substitute Buford Van Stomm, #23! The announcer boomed, with the crowd cheering loudly in return. Ever since the news broke out that a freshman has made it on to the varsity football squad, the student body could not help but grow curious, wondering just how good the self-proclaimed ex-bully really was.
Meanwhile:
Amidst the crowd, to the far corner where no one can see them, gathered Buford's closest friends. Phineas, Ferb, Isabella, Irving, and the old fireside girls troop were all huddled at the corner. Even Baljeet, who was attending Danville University as a Mathematics Ph.D student, decided to drop by to see if his best friend will get a chance to be on the playing field tonight.
"You think he's going to be ok?" asked Isabella, concern evident in her voice.
"Judging from past experience on the strength at which he has given me wedgies, I do not think you have anything to worry about Isabella." Baljeet replied, with a slight smirk on his face.
"We all know how strong he is," Phineas continued, wrapping his blanket around a now shivering Isabella, "No one can stop the angry wall of meat."
"I don't think it's how well he plays that we should be worried about," Ferb replied quietly, "I think we should be worried about how he's going to react to all of that attention he's going to get if he plays tonight."
With that happy note, the gang all turned their faces back onto the football field, hoping that nothing bad will happen to their angry wall of meat.
Back on the Field:
"Van Stomm, I know this is your first time on the field and all, but we're going to have to give the ball over to you; their cornerbacks are just too good for me to pass this game." There was two and a half minutes left in the game, so it was probably the last chance that the Danville football team has to score before the game ended.
"Once you have the ball, stay close to Williams, he's one of our best tight ends. He'll try to cover for you as much as possible. Alright? BREAK!"
Buford mind-numbingly walked out onto formation, unable to process what is happening.
Isn't this what you wanted Buford? To be seen as the toughest kid in the school? A gruff voice asked him in his mind.
Not like this, the other voice replied as Steel started to yell out the snap. This is not what you truly want Van Stomm.
30 minutes later:
Buford never imagined just how loud the locker room could get. And yet here he was, nearly deaf as the entire team cheered and clapped him on the back for his 72 yard touchdown that won them the game 23-22 against their fierce cross-town rivals.
"Party at Tanner's house man! Come on!" One of his teammates yelled at him as they started to pack up for the evening.
Buford winced; while the idea of going to a party sounded appealing in its own way, such parties usually meant that heavy drinking was involved. Knowing that such thing was what caused his father to leave him, Buford decided that the less he became like his father, the better. Quickly thinking of an excuse so that he didn't seem like a total loser, Buford stood up and slung his gym bag over his shoulder.
"Eh, not tonight man. Feeling too tired after putting those wolves down!" Buford walked out of the locker room from the roaring laughter of approval from his remaining teammates.
With the starry skies and the cold air calming his anxiety, Buford continued to walk forward with his eyes downcast. Great, now everyone is gonna see me as this meathead that's gonna get them that trophy. Buford thought as he walked towards the parking lot to find his mother. That's not what I want to be remembered as. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear or see a group of people running towards him at a brick-neck speed, ramming him into a massive group hug.
"Oof, whas going on?" Buford shouted, his words muffled through the many-armed hug.
"Buford you were so great tonight!" Isabella shrieked, laughing at Buford's surprised reaction.
"That was a great run dude!"
"Are you going to win the state championship for us?"
"I had no idea you were that fast!"
Shouts and cries kept getting tossed back and forth amongst the group of friends as they embraced Buford in a congratulatory hug. As Buford muttered his thanks for all of the congratulations, he couldn't help notice one thing that stood out; Gretchen was standing off to the side, having a concerned look on her face as she locked eyes with Buford. Well at least I'm not the only one that's thinking what I'm thinking, Buford thought, feeling oddly comforted by the gesture.
Monday morning after the game:
"Go to, farewell! Put money enough in your purse!" recited Buford in a friendly manner.
"I'll sell all my land," Irving declared hopefully.
Irving Du Bois scampered off back to his seat, having completed his role as Roderigo in Shakespeare's Othello reenactment scene for English class. Buford, role-playing as the serpent-tongued villain Iago, turned and faced the rest of the class as he began his soliloquoy, taking on a vicious expression in place of his previously friendly expression.
"Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.
For I mine own gained knowledge should profane
If I would time expend with such a snipe
But for my sport and profit."
All of this was said with elegance and grace, with a rich tone that failed to resemble Buford's regular manner of speaking. Buford paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before hardening his eyes in place of pure hatred for Othello, the protagonist of the play. After the pause, Buford continued, pouring all of his venom into the next four words that he spoke.
"I. Hate. The. Moor."
As Buford continued his soliloquy, Irving looked around the room, looking at his classmates' reactions. Irving spotted Adyson in the far corner, her eyes wide open and slack jawed as she listened and watched a side to Buford that she has never seen before. Gretchen was right next to her, her star struck eyes matching the brightness of the smile that she wore. And most noticeable of all was Ferb, who was directly facing Buford. The green-haired Brit's normally neutral expression has been replaced by one of surprise and admiration. Wow, Buford must be giving one heck of a monologue if it's impressing Ferb, Irving thought. Ferb is NEVER impressed.
Behind his act, internally Buford was having the time of his life. Ha, look at Beanpole McGee over there! I bet he's never heard me do this before! Buford thought proudly. As he finished his soliloquy to the cheering of the class, his happiness soon vanished as he thought about the rest of his day. Crap, coach sanders is probably gonna double down on my practice, Buford thought morosely. And today was looking to be such a great day.
6 hours later:
It seemed like forever, but eventually the final bell rang. With a sigh, Buford got up from his seat and left the biology classroom. Science has never been his best topic, and he's found himself struggling recently on the current unit. What was worse for Buford was that now he has to go out for his first practice after that game on Friday, which was something he was not looking forward to because of all the attention he's going to get. Buford trudged over to his locker, trying to enjoy his freedom as much as possible before he's back to doing something he doesn't want to.
"Hey Buford?"
Buford turned around in alarm at the sound of his name, only to find Gretchen standing nearby. Buford smiled; ever since she slapped him during the pharmacist invasion, he and Gretchen have become very good friends, bonding over their shared interest in classical literature and their strong personalities.
"I just wanted to let you know that your dialogue during English this morning was amazing, I never knew you were such an actor!" Gretchen exclaimed excitedly.
"Thanks, Gretch. I wanted to surprise Ferb and show him that I'm more than just an 'angry wall of meat'," Buford replied, smirking. "The look on his face was probably one of the best things ever."
Gretchen and Buford both laughed heartily at the thought of Ferb breaking away from his neutral expression.
"Besides that…" Gretchen continued, recomposing herself. "I just want to let you know that I know that you're not enjoying football right now."
Suddenly looking very serious, Gretchen placed her hand on Buford's shoulder in a comforting gesture.
"I just want to let you know that whatever decision you make, I'll be there to support you. You don't have to do this alone Buford. You better not think of yourself as some lone warrior in this whole thing, cause you're no Clint Eastwood."
"Me? Being compared to Clint Eastwood? That's rich," Buford replied with a smile. "But thanks a lot Gretch, means a lot coming from you. It really sucks having to do something that you don't want to just because of how others think about me," Buford continued. "But hey, I guess that's just how the wheel turns."
Gretchen nodded solemnly at this fact, wishing that Buford didn't have to go through so much pressure. "I've got to go now, but I'll call you later tonight about that French homework, ok?" Said Gretchen.
"Yea I'll see you later!" Buford answered, watching as Gretchen turned around and walked out of the doors. Hoisting his gym bag, Buford started to walk in the opposite direction, hoping that the coach would not be too hard on him for his play on Friday.
Interlude:
And so this pattern continued throughout the fall season. Buford divided his time and energy primarily between his passion for literature, friends and French and his obligation to the football team. While far more preferring the former, Buford was forced to address the latter in order to keep up his image throughout the school. Only Gretchen was aware of this duality; the rest of his friends either failed to notice Buford's dilemma or were too busy with their own lives to pay attention. Even Baljeet, Buford's best friend, did not notice this double-life as he was shifting his attention towards his mathematics degree in Danville University.
However, as much as he tried to shake off football, Buford found that it held onto him even tighter; before he knew it he has become one of the top running backs in the state, scoring touchdowns after touchdowns to give the Danville Knights a near perfect record. And as the hype surrounding Buford grew, so did the pressure; Buford found himself in the middle of all attention, being flirted by all of the cheerleaders and invited to all of the parties. As appealing as the idea sounded, Buford could not help but feel uncomfortable at all of the attention; he didn't want to spend his weekend nights at a party; he just wanted to watch a movie marathon with Phineas and the gang. However, as the wins continued to pile on, so did the expectations, and soon the Danville Knights found themselves in their first championship game in over 35 years…
Championship Finals Day:
"Are you nervous, Buford?"
There were only a few hours left before the championship game started, and Buford was spending his remaining time with his beloved mother, hoping to get the pre-game jitters out of the way.
"If I said no, Ma, would you believe me?"
Biffany laughed in response. "Fair enough Buford. But you know for a fact that you're going to do fine right? From the way the coach has talked about you, your technique and form is perfect in every way."
Buford flushed in embarrassment at the compliment. "I just try my best Ma," Buford murmured. "But what if I mess up? What if everyone hates me?"
Biffany looked at Buford in surprise. "Buford, have you ever acted based on what others think about you?"
Buford thought back to his childhood, and all of the times that he did what he wanted to do regardless of what the others said. Like how strictly that he lived by the bully code. How he stopped what he was doing to get a snack no matter how many times Baljeet was yelling at him. He was indeed a very stubborn man, who did not let anyone spoil whatever he was doing or feeling at the time. But at the same time, Buford had some secrets that he hid. Topics and hobbies, such as literature and the arts, that he would rather not share with anyone outside of his closest friends. After all, that is how he ended up on the varsity football team. A small smile crept up on his face. "I guess we'll have to wait and see, Ma."
With that being said, Buford slung his bag over his shoulder as he prepared to walk to the high school for the team bus to take him to the stadium where the game was to be played. He looked back to see his mother giving him an encouraging smile through her shining tears of pride. At least there's one person who loves me just the way I am, Buford thought as he walked out of the door.
2 hours later:
"LET'S GO KNIGHTS! K-N-I-G-H-T-S!"
"RAIDER! RAIDER! RAIDER! OI! OI! OI!"
The once tied score was just broken by a field goal from the Ackerton Raiders, and they were now leading 27-24 with 45 seconds left on the clock. In order to win or go into overtime, the Danville Knights would now have to score a field or a touchdown from their own 10-yard line within the next minute. We should be able to make it, thought Buford as he started to prep his helmet.
"Van Stomm, this is the last shot that we have, we're behind 12 yards and it's the 3rd down!" Hollered Steel as he looked at him eye-to-eye. "Get out there and get us that win!"
Everything around Buford seemed muted as he took his position on the line of scrimmage. It took all of his willpower to even hear Steel's orders during the huddle. Buford was exhausted; he's been running the ball all night hoping to secure the win for the Knights. He's never felt so tired before in his life; even the adventures with his friends during the summer were nothing compared to this. At the moment, everything felt numb for Buford. I'd rather be anywhere but here right now, thought Buford.
As the ball was handed to Buford, the last thought Buford had on his mind was how much he was looking forward to his mom's cooking as soon as he got home. Then suddenly everything went black.
3 days later:
"Consider me surprised Buford, I thought nothing was capable of stopping the angry wall of meat."
Buford looked around the unfamiliar room in confusion, trying to find the source of the noise. Noticing a smiling Baljeet in the corner, Buford couldn't help but smirk at his best friend.
"Well, I ain't exactly Iron Man, ya'know?" Remarked Buford.
"Actually, I recall you claimed to be so at one point during middle school," countered Baljeet.
"Ya get what I mean nerd," Buford retorted out loud. "Now where am I and what the hell happened?"
The smile on Baljeet's expression quickly faded. "You were running the ball and was very close to scoring a touchdown, but one of the Ackerton players rammed you to the point that you fell unconscious. The doctor says that you have had a major case of concussion. It has been three days, Buford."
At the mention of how long he's been in the hospital, Buford sat up immediately, trying his best to ignore the massive wave of dizziness that has just now washed over him. "Is my ma ok?" Buford asked, wincing in pain.
"Your mother is fine, Buford. She will be thrilled to know that you have awoken." Baljeet responded.
Buford laid back onto his hospital bed and sighed. "I should have never played football," Buford murmured, lost in his own thoughts.
Baljeet looked up in alarm. "Why? You were regarded as one of the best players in the history of Danville High. College scouts were already looking at you."
"Just cause I'm good at it doesn't mean I want it," Buford replied, closing his eyes as his tried to relax in his bed. "I never wanted to do it from the beginning but everyone just expected me to cause I tried to look like this tough guy. No one's gonna appreciate a Shakespearean Francophile, so what choice did I have?" Buford continued, a single tear streaming down his face. "And now I worried the hell out of ma and the others."
Baljeet looked over at Buford curiously. "I do not understand, Buford. Since when did you become the kind of person that cared about what others think of you? The Buford that I used to know would have punched the person who insulted him in the face and then walk away!"
Buford glared in response. "Maybe I just didn't want to get hurt anymore, have you ever thought of it that way?! I didn't want another Biff gettin' eaten, or another dad leaving his kid!"
Baljeet was thunderstruck. Never before has Buford been so open with his feelings before in his life, and the thought that he was hiding so much pain was horrifying to say the least. "Buford, I…"
Just then, the door opened and Gretchen stepped into the sanitized room. Immediately afterwards, she rushed over to Buford and tackled him into a hug. "It's about time you woke up you dunderhead!" Gretchen screeched, partly in excitement and partly in relief. "We've all been waiting in that stupid lobby ever since you landed here!"
"All of you guys…?" Buford inquired.
"Yes, you idiot. Did you really think we were going to leave you?" Gretchen retorted angrily in response.
Amused, Baljeet looked over at Buford, who was now completely baffled at the notion that his friends would go through so much for him. Buford locked eyes with Baljeet and reddened, the answer to his angry rhetoric earlier been made clear. No matter what Buford goes through, and no matter how much he changes, his friends will never, ever leave him.
"You better not faint while I go get the others." Gretchen said, standing up to walk out of the hospital ward. "Or I swear…"
If Buford has been more observable at that moment, he would have spotted a slight flush appearing on Gretchen's face. However, he was still too busy pondering over her previous words to take any notice as she walked out the door.
"So what are you going to do now Buford?" Asked Baljeet, curiosity etched in his voice over his best friend's new revelation.
Buford frowned in concentration, realizing now that with football over, he can do whatever he wanted to do. He wasn't planning on going back to that sport either, no matter how good he might have been this season. All he wanted to do now was read plays, watch movies, and act.
"Hand me that Othello book, will ya? I managed to surprise Beanpole McGee with my Iago dialogue a few weeks ago, and I'd give anything to see that look on his face once again."
Author's Note: My inspiration on Buford's Iago dialogue was from Kenneth Branagh's performance in the 1995 film. If you want to, go to YouTube and look up [Othello - Act 1, Scene 3 "I hate the Moor"]. Kenneth Branagh's performance here was bonechilling. My primary inspiration for this story came from the behind the scenes of 'Act your age'; if you look up kicsterash on deviantart (who made the character designs for that episode), her original sketch of the PnF crew in the future had Buford in a letterman jacket, yet in the final design Buford was depicted much more differently. I wanted to expand on that, and try to see why and how Buford changed to that state. Please give me feedback on the quality of this story, since this is my first one. I'm curious on what you guys think.
