[you decided to hang out at the local playground,since you had nothing else to do with your freetime. it wasnt like you had much to worry about,you were seven. you settled on the swings,since the slide was taken and the roundabout made you feel sick. after about five minutes,a boy sat on the swing next to you. after a beat of silence, he looked over to you.]

" heya , bozo . names billy . "

[he introduced himself,he had an annoyingly high-pitched voice for a kid your age,and was that a megaphone in his left hand? his other hand was on one of the rusting chains of the swing. he tilted his head and impatiently awaited your own introduction.]