by Casey Burchby
— One of the only fistfights I’ve ever been in was over Garbage Pail Kids – proof they were a dangerous influence, no? I was eight and a kid named Chad lived down the street. Chad was bad. His family was shady. Their house was overgrown; the lawn was a small parking lot. Chad was the kid I’d play with – maybe – if no one else was around. But Chad had had Garbage Pail Kids. So with some hesitation, I decided to do a little business with Chad. I had a card he was dying for. He promised me several cards in return for just that one. I jumped at the offer, which I knew was foolish. Little did I know Chad planned to welsh.