Blog of a Bully

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Blog of a Bully Page 8

by Stephen Zanzucchi


  Sorry, I ran out of cookies. But don’t worry; I will go to the store on my way home tomorrow. But, if I did have a cookie, the fortune would most definitely say something like this:

  He who throws mud will get mud in return.

  So, you better watch out, you better not cry, but you might get a little mud in your eye, because Bradley is coming to town.

  Monday, April 4th, 2011

  8:09 p.m.

  A Cold Chili Day

  I woke up this morning wanting revenge. I grabbed a can of chili and told myself to get ready to open a locker. Arriving at school on my bike, I darted to Donald’s locker. I mentally prepared to open a locker the only way I know how to, which so far has worked 100% of the time. I got a nice twenty-foot head start and BANG! As I fell backward, I saw that it hadn’t worked. I decided not to try that again, so I tossed the chili in my bag and left defeated.

  When school started, Buzz was personally congratulated by the principal over the intercom for the amazing job he did organizing the school car wash. It’s always nice to be recognized for a big achievement by the father of the girl you want to go out with. But from talking to Buzz, it’s apparent his plan for impressing Angela’s dad is not over.

  During lunch I sat with Buzz and Jacob, and I told them about how I failed to dump chili in Donald’s locker. Jacob was mad because he wants to get Donald and Tim back for the mud as well. Right then, Tim came walking in with a big smile on his face like he was king of the school. Jacob asked if I still had the chili. I said yes and that it was in my backpack. Before I could say another word, Jacob was rummaging through my things, got up when he found the can, popped the tin lid off, and speed walked toward Tim.

  It was a classic approach. Jacob tapped Tim on the shoulder; Tim turned, still smiling, and said, “Hey.” Jacob quickly said, “Hey,” back and flung chili all over that poor little boy. For once in my life, I was happy my parents didn’t buy chili with beans; this was a no-beans can, which made the chili extra saucy. Tim just stood there, screaming, but not a sound came out of his mouth. For a second, I thought I could hear dogs barking in the background.

  Right then, the intercom came on and asked Jacob to go to the office because he would be checking out. I vaguely remembered Jacob mentioning he had a dental appointment to go to this afternoon. What perfect timing. Jacob ran to the office and was checked out by his mom. Meanwhile, Tim still stood in the cafeteria in shock. The bell finally rang, and Buzz and I departed for our next class. Tim still stood there, frozen in time. I didn’t see Tim in any classes after lunch, so all I can assume is that when he snapped out of it, he ran home.

  This war has now escalated to the next level. There was nothing sneaky about what Jacob did. Most of what we had previously done had been in private. But now we are attacking in public, without any way of hiding ourselves to make our pranks look like accidents. What will be next, weapons? I hope this is over before that starts to happen. Man, Jacob really took his anger out on Tim.

  A kind word warms for three winters.

  Yes, and so does hot chili if you wear it right.

  Wednesday, April 6th, 2011

  9:29 p.m.

  Don’t Smoke

  Today I decided to bring a little something something to school. Do you remember those fireworks my parents brought back from their trip while I was stuck in wonderland? Well, I shot off a few last night, and it turns out a few of them are smoke bombs. How exciting! So I figured while everyone was changing for PE, I would set one off, hoping that Tim or Donald would run out of the locker room half dressed, thinking there was a fire.

  Well, the sad thing is that it started to rain. When there is a rainy day, during PE we just sit in the gym. We don’t even suit up. So that put a damper on my smoke bomb plan. Now all I need is Jacob to come along and fix my plan.

  While we all sat in the gym during PE, I noticed that Donald was having a hard time holding still. In universal sign language, that usually means that you need to go to the bathroom. To avoid having to raise his hand in the middle of a gym with a hundred other students watching and ask to go to the bathroom, Donald snuck off. I’m glad I was watching; when I saw him sneak off, I snuck off too.

  Donald shut a stall and locked it. Looking at his feet, I could tell that he was sitting and that he might be in there for a while. It was now or never. I grabbed the smoke bomb from my backpack, lit it, and then quickly left the bathroom. I walked in the middle of the crowd and waited for the show to begin.

  A frantic cry of horror came from the men’s bathroom. Donald must have been lost in all the smoke, not knowing what to do. Everyone’s heads turned to see what was going on. Right then the door flung open, smashing the wall, and Donald came wobbling out like a penguin running from a sea lion. His pants were around his ankles; luckily he had managed to get his boxers back up before he left the bathroom. Everyone was too busy laughing to hear him yelling “fire!” Then, Donald pulled his pants up, pushed a few students to the side, and ran out of the gym. The prank couldn’t have gone better if Jacob had done it himself. That’s what Donald gets for dumping mud on us.

  Right after school, I asked Buzz if he was coming over today, and he said he was busy tutoring younger students after school. This kid never ceases to amaze me. Now he is off helping young students pass their classes. What’s next? Will he give his house to the homeless?

  May life throw you a pleasant curve.

  Buzz has thrown enough curves to last me a lifetime.

  Sunday, April 10th, 2011

  5:13 p.m.

  Dance Plans

  This weekend has been shocking. Nothing has happened with Donald or Tim. I figured they would have done something already, but nothing. Not even a single scrambled egg.

  Buzz came over, and we talked about what to do and how to ask Angela to the dance. The dance will be held Friday night, April 29th, starting at eight. We decided to call in our forces (Jacob) to make a plan. Jacob said he was going to be late because he was still eating. That’s fine; he is a growing boy.

  Jacob finally came over, and we got to work with the plans. Buzz surprisingly had mapped out in his head everything we were to do. Buzz really didn’t need us—he could have done just fine without us, but we were there to support him, and I will do anything he tells me to do.

  The plan included a big poster board, and I mean big: as big as a door. On it we drew, or at least tried to draw, a picture of Buzz and Angela dancing in a very formal setting. Maybe a little too formal, with a hint of fantasy. Buzz was dressed in a tuxedo, waltzing with Angela, who was wearing a very beautiful white evening gown with a long pearl necklace, on top of a lake with the moon shining in the background. Not to mention the stars were radiant. On the bottom, Jacob wrote in surprisingly elegant handwriting:

  Angela it would be my honor if you would accompany me to the dance.

  Sincerely, Buzz

  It was breathtaking. Who would have thought three goofy kids could make such a pretty poster? I didn’t want to even give it to Angela. I wanted to save this to show my future kids that I was able to draw when I was young. The heavens had opened and blessed our hands to make a masterpiece. Of all the girls in school, Angela deserves this poster because of all she has gone through with us. So, the plan is in effect, and we all know what we are to do. I will tell you about it later.

  There is a true and sincere friendship between you and your friends.

  Well said, cookie, well said.

  Monday, April 11th, 2011

  6:56 p.m.

  Man, I Need Some Sleep!

  At three in the morning, Jacob woke me by tapping a cold, uncooked hotdog on my face. What is his problem? Then, to make my waking experience even more enjoyable, he ate the thing. Does he ever stop eating? I put on all black so I wouldn’t be seen in the night and crept out of my house.

  It was just barely sprinkling; not really enough to get you wet but enough to put a chill on your cheeks. Buzz was waiting for us, and he had the duct tape. Jacob ha
d brought a stapler, to use as a last resort.

  The world is calm and peaceful at three in the morning. No cars driving by dumping mud on you, no kids running around screaming for the ice cream truck to stop. The world had a special glow about it. Looking up at a street light with the darkness surrounding it, seeing the sprinkles of water glittering around the glowing light really placed my mind at peace. All the fighting and all the troubles in the world became pointless and obsolete. I wanted to stay frozen there at that point in time forever. But I knew the sun would come up, school would start, and that feeling would go away.

  It went away sooner than expected. Jacob started complaining about how hungry he was, and I remembered we had a job to do. I see now why people run off and live in the mountains—they need the peace.

  We arrived at Angela’s house. Looking around, we saw that all the lights were off, which usually means everyone is sleeping. We moved quickly, creeping to the front, trying to keep quiet. We taped the poster to the frame of the front door so that when Angela and her dad opened the front door to leave for school, they would be trapped in their house. They would swing the door open, and the big poster would be revealed like a great big, unexpected present. Luckily, their door swings inward instead of outward. If it swung outward, then this plan would be wrecked.

  We finished the taping job and stood back to admire our handiwork. We were also admiring how wonderful our drawing was. That’s when we realized we did it wrong. We’re not supposed to be able to see the picture we made. When Angela and her dad open the door, they should be greeted with the invitation.

  It took us a little longer to reverse our hard work and redo it, but I’m sure it was worth whatever the outcome is. I still can’t believe a few straight-B students taped the poster on backward. We went home and slept. I’m sure Jacob went home and ate his midnight snack and breakfast together.

  School was scary and nerve racking. We didn’t know what to expect from Angela or the principal. All we knew was we were very, very nervous. We went the whole day of school and didn’t get a response from Angela or her old man. They acted like nothing happened. Did the poster fall off and blow away or something? Did all of our hard work that made us so proud get flushed down the toilet? On my way home, I swung by Angela’s to see if the poster was gone, and it was. So what happened, I don’t know, but I hope I find out soon because the suspense is killing me.

  If you are in a hurry, you may never get there.

  I just want Angela to hurry up and respond just to put my wondering mind out of its misery.

  Wednesday, April 13th, 2011

  5:45 p.m.

  Nothing

  Today I rode the bus to get more information from Hercules. Yes, he had some, along with more bad news. The general news is that Tim and Donald are planning a big, mean prank that will cause some damage. The bad news is that Hercules told them he wanted nothing to do with it, so they officially kicked out Hercules. It’s not like he participated in the other pranks but he knew what Donald and Tim were planning. This time, he doesn’t know what they’re planning because he’s kicked out. Now I no longer have an inside man. I told Hercules to hang with us for a bit. I didn’t want him to fly solo and start his own group to fight the other groups. I don’t want this turning into gangs or something. This is really getting out of hand.

  As for Angela and her old man, NOTHING! They still act normal, like nothing happened, and it is really making us wonder what did happen. What do you think happened to the poster? Did Angela get it? Did her dad get it first and trash it? What happened? Maybe that night we should have brought a ton of food and left Jacob there to watch what happened. The dance is coming up, and so far Buzz doesn’t have a date. Come to think about it, I don’t have a date either. I don’t need one. I will be happy going by myself. I’m going stag.

  Good luck is the result of good planning.

  Then I should be Lady Luck herself.

  Friday, April 15th, 2011

  11:12 p.m.

  Judgment Day

  My dear readers, your comments have been brilliant as usual. A lot of you said yes, Angela got the poster and will reply in a unique way. Some of you said the old man tore down the poster and trashed it before Angela could see it. And there are few of you who went out of your way to be creative with your responses. This leads us to the winners of the week.

  Our third-place winner is the person who said, “The old man found the poster before Angela, and to hide the evidence he pulled out a jar of hot sauce and ate the whole poster, tape and all.” Wonderful—and I think the hot sauce really gave it that extra kick.

  Our second-place winner is the person who said, “Angela received the poster but didn’t want to go with Buzz, so she used Wite-Out to erase the message and used the same poster to ask another handsome boy to the dance.” Why didn’t I think of that? Should I expect to open my door and see a poster? Or were you referring to Jacob?

  Our first-place winner is the person who said, “Neither Angela nor her dad saw the poster. Aliens came from another planet to take Angela’s dad back home on the mother ship when their mission was interrupted by a single poster blocking their path. Bubuhububoa (the captain of the ship) went to destroy the poster when he realized it was a beautiful work of art that belongs in the Galaxy of Art Museum. He assumed it was made by his long lost love, Beatrice, who now resides in an unknown galaxy, and he left immediately to find her to ask her for his toe nails back.” Man, whoever you are, I want you to write my blog, because you would do a better job than I do. You win. The week is yours, and so is my heart … What??

  Now for what really happened. It was about 12:03:35 in the p.m. when Buzz was called to the principal’s office over the intercom. There was only a minute and twenty-five seconds left until lunch, but who’s counting. I couldn’t help but wonder if Buzz was about to get the reply we had been waiting for. Will Angela be in the room when the principal explains to Buzz that Buzz is being transferred to another school? Or will Angela and her dad take turns slapping Buzz in the face? I’m joking; principals don’t act that way, on account of their good principles. Yes, principals have principles.

  Once the bell rang for lunch, I darted off like a greyhound chasing a rabbit.

  I got to the principal’s office and just waited. All I could see was the silhouette of Buzz nodding his head. Luckily, I packed my own lunch today, so I just sat there waiting, eating, and waiting some more. I’m very good at waiting, but I wish they would have hurried up; I have better things to do with my lunchtime. Finally it happened; Buzz came walking out with an alarmed and stunned look on his face, as if he had just gotten the news that a bombshell had just landed on his favorite amusement park. Hey, I would be devastated too. I tried to ask him what had happened, but I couldn’t get the words past the bite of peanut butter sandwich I had just taken.

  Then Buzz spoke, explaining that the principal would allow Buzz to go to the dance with Angela. My mouth dropped. Did Buzz’s plans really work? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Buzz went on to say that the principal is willing to forget Buzz’s past history as a bully if Buzz continues to make a genuine change, which means the principal would indeed allow Angela to go the dance with Buzz. The principal also wanted to know details on who else was going on this “group” outing. Buzz told him he had only thought this far with his plans and was eager for any advice. He was told that I and Jacob have to go to the dance with Buzz and that we both need partners.

  I’m stressed out now. I need a date, and so does Jacob. I’m not a miracle worker here. Only one magic trick a year, people; that’s all I can do. We and our dates are to be at the principal’s house by 7:30 the night of the dance, and the principal will be our chaperone. Wonderful. This is more than I had bargained for.

  Buzz tried taking over the workload by saying Jacob could go to the dance with Buzz’s younger sister, but that doesn’t get me off the hook. I can’t go with Jessica, and the girls at school hate me. What am I going to do? I wish Donal
d would hurry up and put me out of my misery.

  If your desires are not extravagant, they will be granted.

  When did I ever desire a date for the dance? Yeah, thought so.

  Thursday, April 21st, 2011

  8:16 p.m.

  What Week Is It?

  Where has this week gone? It seems like all of my teachers really piled on the work this week. Not to mention, I’m already stressed out about finding a girl to go with to the dance. I already asked out one girl in the usual manner: “You don’t have a date? That stinks. Well, I’ll go with you since no one else will.” Almost got slapped for that one.

  Still nothing from Donald and Tim; just a bunch of dirty looks that are more aimed at Hercules than me, Buzz, and Jacob. Hercules really doesn’t want a part of any of this. He will sit with us at lunch, but that is it. He won’t come over to plan things; he just keeps to himself and minds his own business. I guess that is the smart thing to do.

  As for Buzz and Angela, well, they have been sitting by each other at lunch ever since the old man gave her permission to go to the dance with Buzz. I have never seen Buzz talk so much about himself in all his life. I was surprised at some of the things he has done, like he went to space camp. I’ve always wanted to go. He is also a great listener. He could listen to Angela for hours.

  Well, I am off to enjoy my weekend. Good Friday is tomorrow, and I am going to celebrate by sitting in my room worrying about who to ask to the dance. I have no one. I know some of my readers have offered to go with me, but I don’t know you. I only know what you type, and who knows if what you type is the truth? Who knows if what I’m typing is the truth? Hmmmmmmmwwwaaa. Wow, I just scared myself a little on that one. Everyone, have a Good Friday, get it? Good Friday … forget it.

 

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