The Beyblade fever has hit the neighbourhood.

Reports coming in from different parts of the country through unreliable sources confirm that parents everywhere are reeling under this new menace. To keep up with the jargon used by their children, to avoid disgracing themselves before the Beyblade-blasting lads and to communicate with them in their own language, the Beyblade-illiterate parents are resorting to the Internet and Cartoon Network channel in huge numbers, hoping to put an end to this unforgivable ignorance.

Mothers of little girls aged between one and three have complained to the Police that their sweet adorable babies, though yet unable to speak their own mother tongue well, are uttering words they could not make out, that sound like “Thee-tooo-one, leddid reeep!”
Is it some kind of witch-craft? They ask.

Elders living in apartments located across major cities have lodged complaints that their quiet evenings are shattered by a rising roar that culminates in a sound like the clash of weapons, the source of which they could not ascertain, because every time they open their doors to see, they only see a bunch of boys running away. In fact, the tremor that caused windows and doors to quiver made them fear an Earthquake is on its way. Newspaper offices were flooded with calls as to the origin of the noise.

Our undercover reporter, prowling the neighbourhood, recorded a few conversations relevant to this story. The first is between a hapless Beyblade-illiterate woman and a seven-year-old.

“Auntie, what is the name of this one?”
“Uh.. Beyblade?” She ventures.
“I mean its name!”
“Isn’t that its name?”
The child tut-tuts. Adults know absolutely nothing! “No, Auntie. Is it Pegasus, Leone, Sagittario…?”
The woman gapes. “Oh.. sorry, I have no idea!”

“Auntie! This is an 8+ Beyblade, why is your son playing with it, he is only five!”
“8+? Is there such a thing for Beyblades too? How do you know?”
“Aww Auntie, just look here! It’s written on its wrapper.”
“I see! Right you are! It indeed is 8+. I never knew.”

“Auntie, do you know where to get Dark Wolf?”
“Dark what?”
“Dark Wolf, Dark Wolf!”
“What kind of a wolf is that??”
“It’s a Beyblade, Auntie!”
“Oh, sorry…”

Our reporter noted that soon after this conversation, the woman in question sneaked out to her computer, and was seen browsing Wikipedia and other informative sites late into the night.

Also overheard by this reporter, the following conversation between the parents of a Beyblade-spinning child…

“Do you know that these Beyblade thingies are basically the same as the Top that we used to play with in our childhood? It costs Rs.10! These contraptions cost a fortune!”
“Well, that’s the Japanese for you. All these centuries of playing with Tops, and no one from our country came up with this brilliant idea.”

“What great idea is that? It’s burning holes in my pocket!”
“Haven’t you seen our child sit with the stuff – energy rings and whatever he calls them – and fix them together, his face a picture of concentration, as if he’s assembling a computer? Doesn’t he feel very important while he does that? Do you think he’ll get the same pleasure from spinning an ordinary Top?” Her face displays her opinion of the ancient ‘toy’.

“We did find happiness from a spinning Top in our days!”
“Those days aren’t these days. This is Business, huge Business. The toy-makers are happy, the children are happy, and seeing them, we’re happy. Appreciate them, the Japanese, for their genius.”

In the backdrop, their child finishes assembling the contraption they call Beyblades, pulls the stadium towards him and prepares himself for battle.
Three…Two…One… Let it Rip!