Hey, do you remember the first day of high school when all the Seniors were harassing me during lunch and, even though you didn’t know me yet, you intervened and told them to “pick on someone your own size?” And remember how they instantly recognized you as being their size and kicked the living shit out of you so badly that Principal Dulotti gave them high-fives?
Remember how I helped you clean some of the blood off your face and then we headed to fourth period and we both ended up in the same class?!? Oh, but remember how I had missed some of the blood on your face, so the whole class was looking at you and laughing until you took your textbook and clubbed that little Asian girl with it? Remember how I was worried that the girl might report you or press charges, but you said, “Don’t worry, she doesn’t speak any English?”
This probably goes without saying, but do you remember inviting me over to your place after that first day and we made a blood oath that we would lift weights every day after school so no one, and we meant NO ONE, would ever mess with us again? Remember how you didn’t have to cut yourself for the blood oath, since you were still bleeding a little bit, and how I accidentally cut myself a little too much because I’m the kind of guy that likes to be thorough when he applies himself to a task?
Remember a week later when we hadn’t seen any immediate results of our daily workouts, so we dropped that garage gym routine and just started snorting lines of cocaine immediately before we got into a fight, so we could get that “Crazy Coke Power?”
Who could ever forget Senior Prank Day, when we kidnapped all the Seniors, paid a Haitian witch doctor to turn them into pigs, then turned them loose on school grounds?
Remember when we used a jar of acid to wipe the smile off of Smiley Kid’s face? Or the time we took huge shits in the lasagna and no one even noticed? Replacing our school’s mascot at halftime with a REAL panther? Adding an extra “E” to all the school’s “RAP BATTLE” flyers?
Do you recall the time we went to the morgue and stole all their dead bodies, which we then dressed as angels and scattered around our team’s football field, right before we yelled at the players, “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON’T PRAY TO GOD AFTER SCORING A TOUCHDOWN!?!”
Remember when we dropped LSD and lost our memories?
Remember our last year, when we legally changed our names to the most racist string of words we could imagine and how we didn’t answer anyone unless they called us by our legal names? Remember when that one special ed kid called us, quite loudly, by our legal names and every single black person in that hallway formed a ring around his wheelchair and started unleashing Killer Instinct-like combos on him?
You were the best AP History teacher I’ve ever had, Mr. Holtz.