The Batch

Chapter 1

Marge was excited for the summer. It was the first day of summer, and she was going to spend it with her friends Melvin, Waylon, and Moe. She got on her bike and began biking to Moe's house, where everyone was gathering.
When Marge got there, they were all outside playing baseball. Marge waved at the others before making her way over to her old friend, who was currently trying to pitch the ball away from him. When he saw her, he quickly put the ball down and gave a goofy grin. "Hiya Marge!"
"Hello, Moe," Marge said as she hugged him. "Are you ready?"
"For what? The game?" he asked with mock confusion.
Marge rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "No, silly. For summer."
He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"I got tickets for the game!"  Marge announced loudly.
"Really?!" Melvin said. He and Waylon came over so they could give their attention to Marge. The four got into Moe's car as Moe began to drive.
They soon arrived at the park where the baseball game was taking place. Everyone got out and gathered around where the players' dugout was. They stood in line waiting to get in. Eventually they found an empty seat.
Once they got settled in, they watched as the other teams started warming up.

"Fuck."  A voice whispered next to her. It wasn't a whisper loud enough for anyone else to hear it. Marge turned to see Melvin glaring off across the field at one player.
"What do you mean by that?" Marge whispered back, keeping her voice low enough to not be heard by any other people.
"That guy," Melvin spat.
Marge followed his gaze and saw the guy sitting alone with a bat on his lap, staring at a ball like it would tell him how to play better baseball.
She turned back to look at her friend. "Who is he?"
Melvin shook his head. "I've never seen him before." He then pointed. "Look at him. Do you think he can really play well with those hands? He has to have broken his knuckles."
"Maybe he doesn't want to play," Marge suggested. "You know what happens when you don't play."

"Okay birdbrain!" Marge snapped at him. "You're gonna start this shit up again, aren't you?!"
Melvin sighed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me concentrate." He looked down at his feet and started swinging them. Marge looked at her friend and knew that if she wanted to get anything done today, she' d need to leave him alone. Instead, she let him stew for a bit while they waited for the game to begin.
It didn't take long for it to start. When it did, she took notice of another player walking onto the field. He was tall and lanky, wearing black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. His face was covered with a red bandana.
"Where'd he come from?" she heard one kid ask.
Marge shrugged. "Somebody stole his glove."
Melvin looked up. "Huh? What? Who?"
She just shook her head. "I don't know."
When the game started, she found that the boy was much better than any of the rest of the players. He pitched perfect strikes, hit balls straight, and hit fastballs far beyond what anyone could reach, even those who were very good.
After the game ended, the crowd was cheering him on. When he got close to where they were standing, Melvin stood up and slapped the bat from his hands. Everyone gasped, even his friends.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Marge said as she grabbed his arm.
Before Melvin had time to respond, the man stepped between them, towering over the two boys.
"Don't touch my equipment." He sneered at them.
Melvin scoffed. "We weren't trying to steal your damn equipment, we're just admiring."
"What is it to you?" he growled at him. He seemed angry at what Melvin said, but that only pissed Marge off more. How dare someone talk to a person like that!
"Nothing," Melvin mumbled.

Waylon and Moe tried to interfere. They realized the boy had a name tag that read, "Snake". Waylon, Moe, and Marge begged Melvin not to start a fight.  Snake grabbed the bat that was still in Melvin's hand.
"Don't you ever touch my weapon again," he threatened as he walked away.
Marge turned to face Melvin. She noticed tears threatening to fall from his eyes and knew she couldn't let him go through this alone. Without thinking, she pulled him into a tight hug.
Melvin was too shocked to react. After a few seconds, he returned the embrace and held her tightly. The two stood there until they felt someone tap them both on the shoulder. Marge turned around to see Snake watching them. His face was emotionless, no sign of pain or anger.
"I apologize, sir. You shouldn't have to deal with such a disrespectful son of a bitch," Melvin said, stepping away from Marge.
Snake stared at Melvin for several seconds. Then, he nodded, turning away from him.
"Thank you, Melvin."

"Mel, you're not a bitch." said Marge. Waylon and Moe joined in. They all hugged before heading back to Moe's car.

Melvin was still pretty upset.  As they drove away, Marge glanced behind her to see Snake watching the car drive away.
Marge knew Melvin had something to say, but she knew better than to push him.
As they pulled up to her house, she turned back to face Melvin. "Hey, Mel, do you wanna come inside for a second?"
Moe opened the door. "I'll clean up here."
"Thanks Moe."
Marge grabbed Melvin's wrist and led him into the house. Once they were in the living room, she sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her.
Melvin flopped down beside her. "Man, why am I so upset?"
"Because you care about Snake?"
"And what gives you that idea?"
"Well, he's a total asshole. So does it matter what he thinks of you?"
"Of course not! I'm just...scared." He wrapped his arms around himself.
Marge rubbed her hands over his shoulders and squeezed. "Mel, nothing will happen to you if he says or does anything to you. Trust me. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"But he might."
"He won't," she insisted.
He raised his eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And why not?"
Marge shifted uncomfortably. "Um..."
"Why won't he hurt me?"
Marge sighed. "Okay, maybe not physically. But, he's still a bully. He always is. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything to you because he knows how important you are to me.

Waylon and Moe walked inside and sat on the floor in front of them.  They leaned forward and rested their heads on their knees as Marge continued talking.
"I mean, look at him. He's huge, he's built like a tank, and he looks mean. He's not afraid to yell at us. You don't have to be scared. It's him versus all four of us."

"Yeah!" Moe and Waylon agreed.
"Besides, he might not want to make me mad, so it probably wouldn't work anyway. But if he did try to hurt me, I promise I'll kick his ass. Don't worry."
Melvin gave her a small smile. "Thanks," he muttered.

"How about we all hang out tonight and sleep at my place?" suggested Moe.