Year Six
Aged eleven, we were playing our version of 'Sumo Wrestling' on our primary school playground. There was a red spray painted cicle on the tarmac and the object of the game was to push other people out of the circle. I wasn't bad at said game, and in the semi final of one game two boys decided to gang up on me and work together to push me out. This being completely against the rules, and me having a strong sense of what is fair, this was altogether too much for my eleven year old self and I ran off to the toilets, feeling dejected and humiliated.
One of the boys followed, where I swiftly told him to 'go fuck yourself' which led to him grabbing my head and smashing it against a mirror. He later recalled that as the mirror smashed behind my head, a change ocurred in me, American Werewolf In London Style. I promptly chased after him, followed him outside and rugby tackled him to the floor and pounded his head over and over until about 5 other boys had to break us up.
At first glance he was fine, but I on the other hand was bleeding profusely. I had to be taken to our local minor injuries unit, because one scaremongering school secretary thought she could see bits of mirror in my tiny little cut. When we arrived the doctor told me I was fine, and I went straight home.
He stayed in school and was thought to be fine until in the afternoon he passed out, had to be taken to QE2 hospital, and did not wake up until 36 hours later.
The joke was on him though because the school made him pay £50 for a new mirror.
Idiot.
(tom the astronaut, Mon 13 Mar 2006, 16:45, Reply)