ALL OF THEM!

The cardboard box is heavy. Nearly bursting at the seams as you heave it out of your car, down onto the blacktop pavement where you can peruse it's contents in the daylight. First glance at the garage sale you got it from, there were a few items sticking out that seemed worth picking apart the other junk inside; not to mention, the price itself was a steal. No way walking away with this mystery box wouldn't yield more than it cost.

You're hoping the previous owner wouldn't mind losing what looks to be a misplaced scarf, not worn enough to be actual garbage you'd just get rid of. As you dig further into the box you stumble upon scribbled pages, double-A batteries, a half-used tube of hand lotion, and a crayon-addled Barbie head. One man's junk, y'know. Towards the bottom you get to the good stuff. Books, a working Bop-It™, Playboy Magazines... and- hello, what's this...?

"Whatcha got there?" your friend Tony looms over your shoulder like an apparition as you pull out the cardstock jackpot you've been hoping for.

"Trading cards!" you shout in a sing-song voice. Some tattered, ripped to shreds, and others unopened in their packaging. A limp tuck-end box covered in stickers holds an ornate, pristine deck inside, their front face turned away from the transparent window on the side, hiding their sorted collection in mystery.

Tony gawks at the unopened foils, holding himself back from ripping apart your property. "You think there's a shiny Charizard in one of these packs?"

"Ah, I'm not worried about those... Think I'll just sell 'em unopened."

"Dude." Tony looks incredulously at you. "That's like, the stupidest thing you can do with a pack of fucking gold."

You frown. "That's just gambling with worse turnout if I open them for the rare ones! I'm not interested in that sort of chance. I'd prefer the little money I get from 'em undamaged then none at all."

"Tsch, your loss. Can I buy one?"

"Ehgh, You can have one if you help me move this box inside; it's heavy as a truck."

"Sure, sure." he takes the far handle carved into the box's side, helping you lift the precarious container off the ground. "Say, were those Playboys I spotted in there?"

"Yup."

"Mind if I-"

"Take 'em, just don't tell me."

The two of you heave the box up the steps to your front door. A near-catastrophe occurs at the landing, Tony's grip on the handle tears clean through the weakened box, saved only by catching it from it's excessively-taped bottom.

"What's this one in the fancy box covered in smiley-faces?"

"I think they're just playing cards, but I didn't look inside. They might be someone's battle deck."

Tony fumbles with the box, prying it open with a free finger, tempting fate once more as you trip through the front door.

"Lemme put the damn box down, Tony!"

"My bad, my bad. It looked cool, I wanna see what's inside."

"It looks like someone spent a fortune at the dollar store for that many smiley-stickers."

Tony pulls open the tabs of the box, fitting his nails between one card at random and striking it out of the tuck box with gusto. He eyes the card in his hand, flipping it front-side to deduce it's collection.

"Hah!" he laughs, giggling as he throws it to the side to pick out another.

"What? What are they?" you grab the box from his hand, and he backtracks to the card he threw out, taking it back into his hands as he flashes it to your gaze.

"Total shit!" he cries in laughter.

To your eyes, he's not wrong. Glossy, with a professional craft work, the card states plainly alongside it's stylized (but still grossly realistic) to-the-point picture, an italicized typeface at the bottom reads clear as day: Scat.

"Ew, what? What kind of deck is this?"

"I'll give you a million dollars for this thing." Tony holds up the shit card, causing it's image to sear into your mind once more, with it's oversaturated brownness.

"Deal. It's yours." You rummage through the deck of cards, picking at random one in the back, and pulling it out.

"Object-o...philia? What is this?"

"It's... that's a kink."

"I know it's a kink! What kind of deck is this, some sex... tarot deck? Do people buy this stuff?"

"Hah, it's got my number." Tony pulls out another, then gasps. "I got boobs! They're real, they exist, they hath risen!"

You almost consider playing along, stopped by the fact you don't want to fight with your friend over a pair of 2D tits on a deck of cards.

"Stop, hold off a moment. I wanna go through these in case something's actually worth something in here." You pause, flicking a pinky through the pack. "That one's a tongue. That one's a cunt... Jesus, how many of these fucking cards are there?"

"Nothing beats poo card."

"Oh, shut it. Take your Charizard." you hand Tony the scrounged pile of unopened packets, letting him take one from your grasp. He hovers a second, before taking the right-most one.

"Poo Charizard." Tony giggles once again, putting poo card in his offhand as he tears open the foiled packet.

"Are you eight?" you lean back, burrowing your hands into your luscious, leather couch. "... Got anything good?"

Tony squirms looking between all his cards, frowning as he turns up. "Nada."