Matt, Traps & Raging Hormones
I was always too fucking weird to be bullied at school.

The bullies tended to leave me alone; they didn't like dealing with the kid who would spend his lunchtimes talking to trees, eating bird poo (yep, I actually did this - good source of berry goodness, your average starling turd), or standing in the middle of the playground singing Private Dancer by Tina Turner at the top of his lungs.

Fuck that, they'd rather go and pick on the weak kids who'd give them a reaction. I was an unknown quantity, they didn't know if I was incredibly hard or just a little bit slow, so they left me alone. (It also probably helped that my cousin Gino went to the same school, was a little older, had been shaving since he was eight, and looked a little bit like The Thing out of the Fantastic Four).

The real hardnut in my year was a lad named Matt. Big ugly fucker who liked nothing better than whacking kids and pocketing their lunch money - he told me once he was saving up for a swish pair of LA Gear trainers with the flashing lights built into the souls. Industrious little thug, this Matt was.

And one time I saw a group of kids I'd occassionally hang round with getting the full Matt treatment. After the Matt-attack and when he's a safe distance away - what with me being an innate coward from an early age - I saunter over to the kids with a plan.

I tell the kids my plan and the lead kid, Simon, says: "That's not gonna work."

"Oh yes it is!" I say. And then I add: "I saw it on a program on the telly."

Well, that had this little group sold - if it was on the TV it must be a fucking great idea.

So I go and find some cardboard from outside the school block, go over to the sandpit, and start working on my scheme with the help of the trodden down masses. Excellent. Fucking marvellous job! This is gonna work a treat!

With the trap set, I go and find Matt.

"Oi, Matt!" I holler across the playground. "Has anyone ever told you you're an ugly bugger with a nose like a pig and ears like a donkey?" I'd like to point out I was only six or seven - this was about as eloquent as my abuse levels got back in those days; I've improved tremendously since then.

This got Matt's attention, though. Nostrils flaring, he legged after me in the playground while I ran off towards the sandpit, hooting like a fucking gibbon.

Unfortunately Matt was bigger than me and quicker. And I had a close encounter of the brown trouser kind as he very nearly caught up with me. But I made it, bursting onto the sandpit and vaulting over it I stopped and turned to see-

-Matt step ONTO the sandpit and set off the trap we'd set, having scooped out the sand and lobbed it over the hedge, placed the cardboard ontop and then covered the cardboard with a little more sand. He fell-

"YES!!!" I proclaimed in my squeaky voice of David-over-Goliath triumph. "LET'S SEE YOU GET OUT OF THAT!!!"

-he fell about half a foot. Oh, bugger! Really should've dug that hole a little deeper...

And now he was fucking ANGRY.

Matt stepped out of the hole and proceeded to close me down. My comrades in arms, the kids who received a beating from Matt on a regular basis, scarpered.

I was alone with the beast of Coventry.

"I'm gonna fuck you up, Spanky!" growled Matt.

And I very nearly shat myself.

And then, as if from nowhere, as if delivered by an angel from upon high, a wall of Italian-English prepubescent muscle descended on Matt and squashed him like the bug he was. Ahhh, Gino! Bless your holy Bic disposable razors and raging hormones!

My cousin grunted at me and strode off, explaining that one of my little mates had come running to find him when he found out what I was up to. I thanked Gino, gave Matt a friendly kick up the arse, and went about my business, doing some quality tree-talking and starling shit eating.

And I took a mental note that if I ever decided to set an ingenious trap for a bully in the future, I should make it a little deeper than half-a-fucking foot deep.
( SpankyHanky, Wed 13 May 2009, 14:49, 2 replies)

"LA Gear trainers with the flashing lights built into the souls"
I LIKE THAT. its a typo BUT I LIKE THE IDEA.
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Wed 13 May 2009, 17:35, closed)

I tried a similar thing once
It was the same idea, a disguised hole, but we covered the hole with sticks. When it was finished you had to stamp on the hole to even dent the thick lattice of sticks we'd laid on top :(
(TollSchaft, Wed 20 May 2009, 22:38, closed)