That fucking guy is indestructible.

He had to be on PCP or something. Shit was crazy.

There were eight of us. Tommy was our leader. His neighbor Lisa came to the basketball court with a bruised lip and black eye, put us all up to it.

She was a cool chick, used to buy us beer. I’d seen her boyfriend Todd before, driving a piece-of-shit Camaro. Looked like he stepped out of an ’80s butt-rock video. Faded tats climbing through his sleeveless shirt. Curly mullet. What a joke.

I figured it wouldn’t take too long to put him in his place and get back to our game.

Tommy told us to go home, grab our shit: baseball bats, billy clubs, knives. Anything we could find.

We rolled up on him behind Twin Peaks, the elementary down the street.

We gathered near the playground, pounding our fists and looking tough.

As we rounded the portables Todd came into view, lying on the ground. Looked like he was taking a nap. We should have rushed his ass, but Tommy held us back.

“Hey, Todd!” he shouted.

The son of a bitch rolled over and his eyes locked mine. Then he scanned the crowd. I could tell we were in for it.

“You hit Lisa.” Tommy snarled.

Todd sat up. I caught his eyes again. The whole thing felt like shit.

Tommy went back at him, “Hey, Todd, what the fuck? You hit Lisa or what?”

The rest of us did our best to act the part, stand our ground.

Todd stood up, finally coaxed out of his daze. He laughed.

“She send you pussies after me?”

Tommy didn’t budge. “We’re gonna fuck you up, man. You can’t hit a woman.”

“Who you calling a woman?” Todd shot back.

Tommy took off. I glanced at his younger brother, Johnny, who was two steps behind. By the time I turned back, everyone had rushed in. I eased into the fray a few steps behind but ready to beat some ass.

The eight of us converged and Todd fell into a fetal position on the asphalt. Pipes, bats, clubs and fists battered him in all directions. I kicked as hard as I could, over and over and over.

I found a bare spot on the side of his head that no one else was working on and I punished it with everything I had. We beat and smashed and pummeled every inch of his fucking body.

Then, after it felt safe, we stopped. I was short of breath, overwhelmed. Others smiled. We gave way to see what was left.

After a few seconds, Todd climbed to his feet. His mouth and head were bleeding, but his face was surprisingly spared. He laughed.

“Is that all you got?” he asked. “Just a bunch of little-ass kids. You think that fucking whore likes you, Tommy? You think you can satisfy that bitch? I’m a man, you little fucks. Remember that.”

His last comment brought with it a spit of blood. As he wiped his mouth clean with his arm, a grin followed. Tommy charged in for Round 2, the pack on his heels.

Another beating ensued, yet more violent and obscene. Bones broke. I was working the ribs this time. His body gave way with every kick of my Reebok. Tommy pounded with a six-inch steel baton he stole from his dad’s dresser.

I caught an elbow in the eye on someone’s recoil. It stopped me for a moment but I returned, pounding that fucker with every ounce of my soul.

Just about the time we thought he must be dead, we stopped.

Our bruised fists clinched, we offered reassuring glimpses to each other that the job was done.

Then Todd stirred. He rolled over, and stood.

“You fucking pussies,” he said.

All of us were in a daze. Tommy stared in awe.

Todd moved slowly, but sure of himself. He wobbled back to his feet and flashed his white teeth through a river of red blood. I stared in disbelief and caught Todd’s eyes again. They were empty. But yet he stood, and mocked us.

“Her and all her little fucks,” he said. “An army of fucks. She gets a man, and sics the puberty club on his ass. What a fucking bitch.”

I looked at Tommy. He just stared.

Todd wobbled some more, smiled. Blood seeped out his ears, his head, his eyes. He smiled.

“C’mon,” Tommy said coolly. “This guy’s had enough.”

We all agreed and walked away. I glanced back and saw Todd stumbling into the woods. His left shoe had come off in the melee and he was holding it in his hand, walking unevenly as he bounced from tree to tree and spit blood. Then he disappeared.

When we got back to the trailer park, Lisa was waiting with a couple of twelvers. I held a cold one to my eye. Conquering heroes, we played dice games and drank like kings all night. Tommy put his arm around Lisa. They kissed.

Two weeks later, Todd was back. Rolling in his Camaro, he stopped in front of the basketball court on his way to Lisa’s house and waved.

The eight of us waved back.

Kenny Via tries to write as much as possible, but usually plays video games instead.