The Big Bully

“I’m in charge here, dweebs!”

Frankie was the biggest kid in school. He was four heads taller than the next tallest kid. Hell, his head alone was taller than the shortest kid. He had a grayish complexion, like a gravedigger’s pallid lunchmeat.

He walked past the quivering children, knuckles cracking menacingly (observe closely: Frankie employs an unusual cracking technique; rather than releasing bubbles from the joint, Frankie actually crushes his finger-bones with his opposite hand. The bones heal over the day, to be recrushed tomorrow’s morning recess.)

An ideal victim!

“YOU!” he said, pointing, from the classmates’ perspective, to no one, but I, the writer and narrator of this story, dirtied my briefs at this point, because he pointed towards me.

I quickly made up a character and plopped him onto the playground. He was a befreckled asthmatic with a pocket-protector and glasses as thick as a Polish sausage, which slid off his pug-nose and shattered on the ground. He gave a nasally cough and sniffled. An offering, of sorts.

He stumbled towards Frankie on the knobbliest legs my word-processor would allow, bumping into Frankie.

Underneath the torrents of phlegm, he uttered “Have you seen my glasses?” His eyes were little dots.

His urge to usurp the powerful exceeded even his urge to harm the weak. He leapt in that direction undetectable to all but the strongest fictional characters (Frankie not only bulked up in the weight room, he also exercised his perceptive abilities!), materializing before my very eyes, which he proceeded to blacken, split open and gouge out in that order.

My bruised body collapsed on the sofa. He examined the MacBook from whose loins he sprang. He grinned, gingerly typing with two massive forefingers. Authorial omnipotence suited him. Terrible words descended upon his schoolmates.

The foremost word;

Dweeb.








---300 words, aside from these ones down here. Written for the Daily FlashFic Contest