Dear Johnny,
I'm sure that you remember me from our glorious days back at John Adams High. I am you're old friend Harley Keiner. I remember our carefree high school days in which we played a fun game of cat and mouse throughout the hallways. I remember the first day we met; the day I gave your wonderful new name: Johnny Baboon. If you made other people call you that, you would have achieved greatness at John Adams high. In fact, you had the potential to be my successor. But that's besides the point.
But I'm not writing to you merely to remember the golden days of our lives, but rather to ask for your assistance. I am being evicted from my apartment after failing to pay the rent for a few months (I lost count after 2, I was never good at spelling). I tried to make money the old fashioned, noble, and American way: drug dealing. That however failed quickly. I thought I could use my powers of force and intimidation on my peers; boy was I wrong. They just laughed at me, kicked my ass, and laughed some more. I tried to get into college but I needed good grades and a good score in the SOT's (whatever that is). I asked Joey for help, but he's in prison, so he's next to useless. I tried to find Frankie, but last I heard of him, he was writing poetry for a living. Can you believe it, my Enforcer, is a poet using all these fancy numbers in them? Whatever! I miss the days in which stealing lunch money from 7th graders was my business and living. It wasn't just the money that was good, but the satisfaction inside that came from the business. Anyway, I tried to be a professional register operator or as must people call it: a cashier. I quickly got fired after beating up some kid after he rudely refused to give me his wallet. The nerve of some people.
Anyway, as I wrote earlier (before my rants), I am being evicted and I need a place to stay. I heard that you, Mrs. Baboon, Shawn, and big brother Baboon (Eric I believe) are living in New York City. No need to say yes, I'm already on way to your place. I got directions from Amy Baboon, who surprisingly remembers me and our grand friendship, after all this time. I should arrive Monday morning. Don't worry I won't disturb you or you're housemates. You'll barely notice I'm here.
Your Friend,
Harley Keiner
P.S. Teresa (T.K.) says hi.
"Whose the letter from Cory? Santa?" asked Eric.
"No it's from Harley Keiner. Remember that guy?" asked Cory.
"No doesn't ring a bell", said Eric.
"The guy in the leather jacket who used to bully me and occasionally you in high school", said Cory.
"Bully in leather jacket", said Eric thoughtfully. "I remember Frankie, but he didn't wear a leather jacket. There was Joey, but he couldn't beat up Morgan. Oh it's coming back, Harley Keiner I remember him".
"He's coming here to live with us! He'll be here Monday morning which, by the way, is tomorrow!" yelled Cory.
"Oh good. The two of you have some catching up to do. Hopefully he won't like… kill you or anything", said Eric cheerfully, obviously not really thinking about what he is saying.
"Hey buddy who's the letter from?" asked Shawn.
"Harley Keiner and he's going to be living with us starting tomorrow!" said Eric bubbly.
"What!" yelled Shawn.
"Shawn, Cory, Eric what's wrong?" asked Topanga.
"Oh nothing, it's just Shawn yelled after I told him that Harley Keiner is coming to live with us tomorrow!" said Eric even more happily than before.
Topanga's face suddenly lost color when she heard Harley's name. She remembered how much he tormented Cory back in high school.
"What are we going to do?" asked Topanga frantically.
"I think we should pick up a cake to celebrate the arrival of our old friend!" said Eric.
"No Eric, Harley is a bad guy. He almost killed us my first day of high school. Remember Mr. Turner saved us?" asked Cory hoping Eric would realize what was going on.
"I see your point. Well there is only one thing to do at a time like this", said Eric seriously as he picked up the phone and dialed a number. The other side of the line picked up.
"Hello", said the voice.
"Mr. Feeny. MR. FEENY!" yelled Eric into the phone.
"This is Steve's Pizzaria who is this?" asked the voice.
"Sorry wrong number", said Eric sheepishly.
"Eric, first Mr. Feeny lives in Philadelphia so he has a different area code. Second, Mr. Feeny is on vacation and doesn't own a cell phone", said Topanga.
"What are we going to do? Harley Keiner is coming!" yelled Eric.
"Why are you people so glum to see me?" asked Harley.
"Harley what are you doing here? You said you'd come tomorrow and how did you get in?" asked Cory.
"I wanted to surprise my old friends and you people really should lock your front door or at least close it", answered Harley.
"Eric how many times do I have to tell you, if you open the front door, you also have to close it!" yelled Topanga.
"Sorry", answered Eric.
"So my wonderful friends let me take a look at you. Johnny, you've grown up from that scrawny little kid from high school. Eric, long time no see. Mrs. Baboon, it's a pleasure to meet you. I remember you from school, but I don't think we ever sat down and had a chat. Where's Shawn?" asked Harley.
"Hiding in the closet", answered Topanga.
"Just like old times; only in high school he hid in his locker. I didn't pick on him too much because he would always stuff himself in his locker. It was only fun when I did it myself", said Harley.
"So how long are you planning on staying?" asked Cory.
"I don't know. A week, month, year tops", answered Harley. Topanga looked even paler now as her eyes got really big. Cory just gaped at Harley.
"So Mrs. Baboon, what do you have to eat around here? You know, yelling at the taxi driver for the past few hours works up an appetite", said Harley as he sat on the couch and placed his feet on the table.
"What are we going to do?" asked Topanga to herself.
To be continued...