Revenge is a dish best served smack in the f*cking face
After years and years of suffering pain at the hands of elder brother - incidents including being slammed off my parents bed on to a the outstretched leg of a camp bed (aged 5, 8 stitches by the spine), having a fish knife thrown into my skull (aged 8 weeks, 4 stitches) thrown down a flight of stairs into the porch window (aged 6, multiple stitches in multiple wounds), repeatedly suffering spinal injuries due to the 'alphabet game' (I'd be bundled to the floor, kicked into a small ball and then have a chair placed on my back. He'd then go through the alphabet and, at the letter R he'd push the chair down as hard as he could so I'd go ARRRRRGH so he could continue from S onwards - educational you see?) and punched through our open front door only to sail over all three steps and onto the non-soft concrete floor (aged 12, 9 stitches in the back of the head) I decided to challenge him one night to a pillow fight.

His spotty face filled with glee as he charged towards me with his duck feathered filled delight thinking he was about to give his little brother another sound beating. I caught him square in the face as he sprinted forward and knocked the cunt spark out.

He hadn't bargained on me sticking a 2 inch thick wooden bread board inside my pillow case.

To this day my favourite noise in the whole wide world is 'thunk'.

His violent and bullying ways never stopped though and he went on to join the police.
Coincidence? Bollocks.
(Let's all have an asbo, Mon 22 Aug 2005, 12:31, Reply)