In which the bullies get their come-uppance
Bit of a pearoast - a cautionary tale from my home town.

There was a family. The kind of family that every town has really. A thoroughly nasty and antisocial bunch of turds with a predisposition for glue sniffing, violence and petty thievery. A distinct lack of brain power characterised this unholy bunch of scrotes, and the petty thievery usually involved stealing from their own neighbours - they were so lacking in scruples that they had never abided by the petty criminal's unspoken mantra that you never shit in your own nest.

The three siblings of the family - all brothers, with about a year each between them, so quite close in age - had finely honed their behaviour at school, as they ran the gauntlet over the nerdier kids like some kind of mini-mafia; mercilessly bullying them into handing over dinner money with the threat of having their heads flushed down the toilet if they refused to comply. They made school a misery for a lot of kids there. Fortunately I wasn't one of them for some reason; possibly because my Gran was good friends with their neighbour.

Now, those of you with a dislike for extreme violence I would advise you to stop reading about here...

This acutely developed antisocial disregard for anything and anyone ensued for years. The brazen swagger they had at school continued as they graduated from education to the dole queue, and strangely, as often happens with bullies, they didn't find themselves on the receiving end of a good hiding from blokes a few years older than them and a great deal harder, pissed off that 'new blood' was trying to muscle in on their turf.

Oddly, they also had very little, if any, trouble with the police, who repeatedly were unable to pin anything on them in order to put them away. The neighbourhood lived in abject terror of the fact that next time they were targeted it could be a lot worse, and so tended to say nothing so as not to provoke any kind of response.

The three brothers were each blessed with an abject cluelessness as to what was considered acceptable in the world. They followed the family pattern of bullying at school, substance abuse, violence and thievery, but the eldest was particularly unpleasant and had spent his years making various 'points', usually with a sharp object. And several blunt ones too. This particular error of the gene pool had also developed a little sideline in selling drugs, and it was this that proved to be especially irksome for some people in the town.

So, one evening, a couple of local hardmen who'd had enough of this family riding roughshod over their fair town followed him, being careful not to be seen, and waited for an opportunity. Armed with a baseball bat, a stanley knife and a pair of pliers, they followed him to a not altogether remote spot on one of the estates, but one which consisted of a large expanse of grass leading down to the railway. An expanse of grass that after a certain point wasn't lit by streetlighting.

What followed was, even by his standards, pretty nasty. As he was sitting on a bench with his head in a bag of glue, the two hard men crept up behind him and smacked him squarely across the back of the head with the baseball bat. Being utterly off his box on Bostik, he wasn't in any fit state to defend himself as the blows rained down on him. Once he was rendered suitably unable to move, they then set about removing his teeth with the pliers, and for good measure also broke both his kneecaps with the bat, before (reportedly) slashing the tendons in the back of his legs with the stanley knife. Then they left him lying there.

About an hour later he was discovered by someone walking their dog. The police were called, but the beating he had received was so severe that it had rendered him permanently brain damaged and unable to speak. He now spends his life being looked after 24-7 by his family, nothing but an empty shell of a dribbling vegetable, which has in some small way been instrumental in keeping them out of trouble. Fortune smiled once again on the town when the middle sibling died of a drugs overdose, thus removing the world of another genetic abhorration. Perhaps seeing that the lifestyle he had adopted wasn't going to do him any favours, the youngest apparently became a bit of a reformed character, although his by now established reputation as a troublesome little cunt meant that opportunities for anything in the town were scarce.

Apologies for the gruesomeness of this tale, but honestly, the family got what they deserved after over 20 years of getting away with everything they had ever done to the people of the town.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Wed 13 May 2009, 14:49, 7 replies)

fucking hell.
that's grim.
(Poppet some assembly required., Wed 13 May 2009, 14:54, closed)

Aye.
It's grim up north. And I seem to remember that story, not just from the pearoast either.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Wed 13 May 2009, 15:06, closed)

Bloody hell....
That's nasty! Mind you, I guess if you decide to use violence and such, there's always someone eviler and bigger out there.
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Wed 13 May 2009, 15:21, closed)

Morpeth?
?
(R0SS, Wed 13 May 2009, 16:11, closed)

Close...
About 50 miles out.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Wed 13 May 2009, 16:39, closed)

And them Southerners don't believe us
that people are more friendly in the North.
(TheColonel, Wed 13 May 2009, 17:23, closed)

Well, we are.
Southerners would just have shot him. Dreadfully impersonal. You don't get this sort of hands-on individual attention Down South.
(richardm, Mon 18 May 2009, 14:23, closed)