On Saturday, a hopped up gang of minors beat to death an innocent visitor from Mexico. All in the name of fun. This is an artist's rendition of what "Bully" might have looked like before his fatal beating.

Public Service Announcement: Never Befriend a Piñata
by Patrick Kirk Gillock

Chesterville, WA - Recently little James Parker celebrated his fifth birthday. To honor the occasion, his parents bought a piñata. Unfortunately, a few days before the event, they made the horrible mistake of letting James see it. Like any child, he just wanted to play with this new toy. His parents, not thinking ahead, saw nothing wrong with the request. (You can you see where this is going.) Soon James had given the piñata a name, Bully. He even slept with it and tried to take it to school. Little did he know, Bully's days were numbered (and they weren't high numbers.)

The party started out innocently enough. Kids ran around the backyard while their parents were inside trying to …well, trying to avoid the backyard. When the clock struck noon, it was time for Bully to DIE. Mr. Parker went to James and asked, "Where's the piñata?" James looked confused. He asked again, "Where's Bully?" James replied, "In my room." Moments later, the father came down with Bully in one hand and a stick in the other. The distressed birthday boy ran over and tried to wrench Bully from his father's hands. "No! Gimme him." But his efforts were in vain. With a quick sling of a rope, Bully dangled from a tree limb, just out of reach from the five year olds grasp.

The partygoers instinctively gathered around the piñata, ogling it like a sacrificial lamb. James jumped feverishly trying to rescue his best friend, while onlookers laughed, completely unaware of the bond this boy and papier-mâché bull share. James's father pulled him back and instructed, "No, hit it with the stick!" At this, James melted into complete hysterics. Exasperated, the father handed the weapon to a bigger kid and told James, "Here …watch him." The older kid struck the piñata, WHACK as James screamed, "BULLY! I'm sorry…"

It must have been the tenth or eleventh whack when Bully's heart finally gave out. Like fireworks overhead, Bully showered the ravenous crowd with an explosion of candy. James, his head on the ground, looked up to see the candy bursting from Bully's wounded leg. (This is where it gets good.) He instantly leapt up, grabbed the stick from the older kid, and hit the piñata mercilessly over and over again. It was a whirlwind of candy, kids, and shreds of colored paper. By the time the dust settled, little Bully's carcass was scattered over one-acre and James had two fists, plus most of his pockets, crammed with candy. The party was a success.

The moral to this story is you should NEVER befriend a piñata, and a five year old will destroy his best friend for sweet, sweet candy!

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