Are we telling fight stories now?
I was a nerd through all of school (shocking, I know) but I was also always pretty tall and big, so people mostly left me alone, until my last year of middle school. That's when I met my first real bully.
There were two of them, one was a skinny little shithead that was my age, the other was his older brother, and together they terrorized all they could. They road my bus, and made my life hell.
I owe a lot to my dad, that shady motherfucker. Where most would teach their kid to stand up to the bully, or tell an adult, or try to solve it peacefully, he taught me how to fight dirty. He even showed me how to conceal a lead pipe in my backpack, inside a flap I think was meant to hold camping equipment.
So about a month later, when those two guys followed me off the bus saying they were going to beat my ass, they got a surprise. The big one went down with a pipe to the groin, and the little one caught the pipe across his face, giving him a big gash that would need stitches, and a hell of a black eye. A few more hits and they both looked like they had been trashed. They never bothered me again, and I walked away uninjured, except for a sprained wrist from swinging the pipe too hard.
I wasn't proud of that little event, but it did keep those two from messing with me or my friends
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