I was hoping for more with this thread.

HAHA.  Yessir.

By all means.  It's part of my new Hit Man Ivy persona.  I'm going to hunt down all the bullies that ever even looked at me the wrong way.  Then when I find them, I'm going to buy them a beer and thank them for helping me build the character I now possess. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR5XGTpophI

Last edited by Worried Man (2013-08-06 12:05:54)

Just hold on to it, I'll collect my next time through Brooklyn.

My beat down a bully story.

I wish I had a great story I could share with you about my father but alas he was a cold, brutal aggressive man who never conquered his demons.
He did however teach me about a world he knew well Violence.

When I was about 5 or 6 I made the mistake of running into my house crying because a kid of about ten and twice the size of me had beaten me up.
My Father slapped me across the face and told me never to back down or lose a fight again and that I had shamed him.
He then marched me into our back garden and handed me a lump of timber instructing me to hit the kid around the head with it as hard as I could.
I promptly did as he asked and the kid ran away crying I actually did the same thing to the kid the next day just because I felt like it.

I grew up a very aggressive and violent young man and have done things I am ashamed of because I always had my father’s voice in my head
Telling me to win at all costs and never to back down or show mercy to anyone.
I am happy to say I changed and grew out of this pattern when I reached my mid twenties. I hate violence above all things now even though I know
It’s probably the thing I was best at.

Peace.

AC's entertaining, yet disturbing, story reminds me of this:

I was maybe 11.  There was this very annoying kid named Walter that lived next door.  I had to wait for the bus with him every day.  He was always yammering on about video games or this or that.  Would never cool it.  He was also a little dingy and just wasn't all there.  One time I was sitting in class and heard a horrendous commotion in the hall.  Turns out Walter had freaked out and picked up his desk and actually thrown it into the hall!  So, I'm playing with some other kids in this house that was under construction in our neighborhood.  Lots of wood and stuff laying around to dick around with.  Anyway, Walter shows up and is being a total joykill.  I'm squatting down doing something and all of a sudden CRACK!  I feel this sharp pain in my arm.  I look up and Walter's standing there with a lenght of 2 x 4 wood in his hand.  The shit had just hit me out of nowhere, for NO REASON.  I was in a lot of pain and disbelief.  I hated the kid anyway, so I took this perfect opportunity to stand up, grab the back of his head with one hand and use it to bring his face down into contact with the balled up fist of my other hand.  CRACK!  He looks up and his nose is gushing blood.  He instantly starts bawling and runs to his bike and trucks it toward his house.  I knew he was going to tell his mommy.  I panicked and ran home as fast as I could to tell my mom what happened.  She new Walter was a nutcase, so she believed his attack was unprovoked.  Well, not a minute later Walter and his mom are at our door.  She's furious and he's still crying with a bloody nose.  "Your son is NOT to wait for the bus with Walter ANY MORE!" she demanded.  So, that worked out just fine.   Damn, that board left a huge welt on my arm though.  Bastard.