The Eighth Page

The Roast of Billy Fowkes

I’m here to talk to you about William J. Fowkes, the soon-to-be former Features Co-Editor. A lot of people would look at such a title and think, “wow, he has a mediocre job of little responsibility that he’s about to lose to Ryan-freaking-Yost. That sucks.” And to those people, I would have to agree. In fact, seeing as no one cares about Features except readers, on The Phillipian Board hierarchy, Billy is about 18th down the line. This means if the Board were the U.S. Executive branch, Billy would be 18th in line for the presidency behind the Secretary of Veterans Affairs, which is a great place to be Fowkesy. I plan to take you Feech Fans on a journey through the life of Bill Fowkes in its entirety, starting with age 14, when I sadly met the poor lass. My first impression of William was not a good one. He lived across the hall from me in A-House, and when I met him I couldn’t help but think he was simply a kid with hair like a homeless man, an accent that made him sound like a Will Hunting wannabe, a sense of humor like a drunk, intolerant child, whose parents were probably glad he left them. I soon found qualities in Bill that weren’t awful and we became “friends.” However, throughout the “friendship” there have still been many things about Billy which annoyed me or I thought were horrible and awful, the likes of which I will elaborate upon now. Bill came to this school partly to learn and partly to satisfy a restraining order. He has worked at Admissions and given many tours and consequently caused more kids not to go to this school than the financial crisis. One thing that makes me question his integrity is his prejudice. Bill has a hatred for little people like that of a seamstress who charges by the yard. This disliking also applies to babies and small children, causing him to know more dead baby jokes than facts about his family. I once stayed at Billy’s house and met his family. Bill’s father is a firefighter for the Woburn fire department and a great guy. The compassion he shows in his job is only unmatched by that which he showed when he decided to keep Billy. That night, I found it strange that Bill wore purple one-piece pajamas. My discomfort was further heightened when Bill insisted we sleep in the same bed so we could comfort each other’s fear of the “monsters under the bed.” This made for a night I wish I could forget but can’t because Billy told me later that he filmed it for his “collection.” He is an awful dresser. He changes outfits like Rush Limbaugh changes opinions. Goodwill even refused his clothes. Also, Bill, I love the always wearing a hat look. It’s really in style and makes you look kind of like Ashton Kutcher if he had less talent. Or possibly you wear your hat not for fashion but to cover up a secret. Perhaps, like the late and great SD, you are balding as well. (Call him, ladies). Also, fun fact, Bill won the Cookie Monster hat he wears playing a game of ookie cookie. That hat does help to hide mediocre looks though. Bill is the whitest person I know after Conan O’Brien’s illegitimate child he had with the creepy guy from the Da Vinci Code. Bill has been our vice president for a while, which explains my tendency to call him Dick. As vice president under Faiyad at a small boarding school, Bill is seemingly the man behind the man with no power. He has about as much voice in this school’s actions as Helen Keller does in a debate. As Features section editor, Bill has written worse jokes than Carrot Top during the lower points in his career. His sense of humor is like James Lipton’s on sleeping pills. He’s really hard to work with mostly because his mood changes faster than the song playing on Michael J Fox’s iPod. Bill is the current Varsity Golf Captain. Besides being the sport requiring the least athletic ability next to Praxis, golf has also been fodder for Billy’s comedy, providing all the ball and shaft jokes he could ever want. Nonetheless, Bill is somewhat good. However, he and Tiger Woods are nothing alike unless Tiger’s 14 girls were trannys. I was also on JV2 football with Billy our Junior year. Bill spent most of his time not on the field but on the sidelines, yelling out words that rhyme with punt as well as other obscenities. Throughout high school, Bill has had what some might call an awful sex life. Really, Bill has had as successful a sex-life as McKenzie Phillips. He’s convinced more prostitutes to leave the business than a pimp’s backhand. Bills dating career has had less success than someone looking for love on Chat Roulette (he’s seen about the same number of naked men though). The last date he went on was a blind date. He’d met her before but when she got a close look she ripped her eyes out. Billy’s idea of third base is blowing up the doll. His idea of romance is blowing up the doll while Barry White is playing. Billy calls himself the “Happy Meal” because he is fast and is only for the youngsters. But despite any harsh words I have said about the douche bag, Bill still undeniably loves me.