Pearoastery
I went to a grammar school in Newcastle because for some god-knows-what reason I was supposedly intelligent enough to win a scholarship. Well, who was I to argue? Unfortunately for some pupils there, money spoke louder than brains. Although the school had a fairly strenuous entrance exam, there was no doubt that for some of the rich kids, the wheels had been greased ever slightly. With huge fucking wodges of cash. Thus stupidity perpetuates itself etc...

I had 2 major disadvantages: 1, I didn't go to the junior school (which is where the little Quentins and Theodores and so on went prior to the main school, presumably to have their chins removed). 2, when someone asked me "so what does your Daddy do?" and I answered honestly "fuck all at the moment - he's been made redundant." it became fairly obvious I wasn't one of Northumbria's landed gentry.

Soo, considering my surname as well (let's suffice it to say that it's....bad. And I've heard ALL the jokes) I learnt to fight at an early age. I didn't enjoy it, and still don't, but I was at least able to hit someone hard enought that they didn't just laugh at me. One day in year 9 I'd had about enough, when one chinless wonder called Veevers (still can't remember his first name, but by his facial appearance, it may have been Shergar) had basically spent the day tormenting me about my parents.

"Carrot, your family are poor. They can't even afford you a proper school blazer. My daddy bought me two and we're going to Barbados for the weekend in Daddy's private space shuttle...." etcetera all. fucking. day.

Anyway, it came to the stage where I suggested that a full and frank discussion and exchange of opinions may be required after school at the generally approved location for such debates(the hill behind the sports hall). I propsed the motion, and it was seconded by fuckhead.

I turned up late. I ws unaccountably held back with an attack of the "you boy, tuck in your laces/tie your shirt/brush your tie/iron your face" from a random teacher. So I was in a less than happy mood when I arrived at "the kicking hill."

"Right Carrot" brayed Veevers. "I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson for wasting my time." He walked over, pulled his fist back...

...swung...


...overbalanced....

...and fell.

Luckily, a bench broke his fall.

Unluckily it was the corner of the bench that broke his fall.

Unluckily still, he broke the fall with his nuts.

EVERYONE who saw this winced. I actually believe that Veevers passed out for a moment, and fair play to the fucknugget, I would too. When he came to, he folded into a foetal position (as you do) and unfortunately decided to lose his lunch. Being doubled up, it went all down his front. He limped home crying.

So, that's how I overcame a bully, thanks to my secret ally, Mr Bench.

The next week at swimming, Veever's scrotum was about the colour and size of a ripe aubergine. Hence his nickname for the rest of school of "purpleplums."

Ta for that one, Jeebus!
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Tue 19 May 2009, 5:06, 5 replies)

Woo!
Sounds like the male equivalent of my Grammar school.

Clicky for size, colour and throbbing pain appreciation
(theneet began to cut her hair and long for balls, Tue 19 May 2009, 8:57, closed)

Good work
Sir!!! Nice to read something with the element of the funnies this week, cheers.
( SpankyHanky, Tue 19 May 2009, 11:42, closed)

Which one just out of interest?
RGS, Kings or Dame Allens?
(R0SS, Tue 19 May 2009, 13:59, closed)

RGS
Dame Allans? How very dare you!
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Tue 19 May 2009, 19:45, closed)

This is fantastic

I wish more of the answers to this QOTW were as fun, but the nature of bullying is far from a pretty one. Anyways, teach that rich b'stard! fight the power! BENCH!

:D
(Lythium deals in lead, my friend., Tue 19 May 2009, 17:10, closed)