When I was a young man there were a lot of BAD BOY BILLY's about and the girls were drawn like moths to a candle. I could never understand why . . . then perhaps I belonged to the male gender and male pheromones had no effect. These bad boys always had it made, could work miracles with a loose bit of oily hair and wonders with a leering grin. The response was infectious, I don't think these herds of women had much say at all, and suspect this was most probably something left over from our evolutionary past.
Anyway, sweet revenge was watching them all grow, bald, old and fat, and whoever ended up looking after them, had to do practically everything, including paying the bills.
So I let Billy loose on board a commuting train and watched what my imagination released.
I hope you like it; I had no idea what might turn up in the next paragraph and this story kept me fully entertained right up to the very last page.