Somewhat violent, actually...
Back when I was younger, I went to a private school in a class of about 30 kids who'd been with each other for about 7 years. In sixth grade, we all went to a camp-type thing for three days -- organized by the school and authorized by the pope himself! (or the local bishop, whatever) Anyways, the camp people took it upon themselves to teach a group of 12 and 13 year olds how to use a compass, and handed out compasses, paper, and pencils.

So, I take a seat down next to one of my odder friends and we're going along really well (I already knew how to use one, so I was helping him), when at osme point I make some joke about him. Long story short, he stabbed -- yes, stabbed; no, not poked -- me in the knee with his freshly-sharpened pencil. I screamed and bled, and he apologized.

To this day, I can still point out the spot where he stabbed me, since the graphite worked as tattoo ink. I probably deserved it, though -- a few years before, I bet him that he couldn't kick an orange cone more than a foot. I didn't feel obligated, however, to tell him that I'd put it over a sprinkler head...
( CTVadim Eeeeasing back into it., Sat 5 Feb 2005, 0:39, Reply)