The Attack Of The Middle Coolers

There is really no way for me to generally bring this topic into discussion, so I’m just going to go right ahead and say it:

I was physically and verbally abused by very agile and nimble middle schoolers.

There have been multiple reports of these attacks by my friend, and I thought I was lucky enough to never have to endure such delinquency, but I was sadly mistaken:

During the Wednesday and Thursdays when I am at my mom’s house, it is my job to pick up my sister from swimming. It’s not a huge chore, because her house is probably half a mile from the Boys and Girls club, and I enjoy walking. As I grabbed my Ipod and phone (God forbid I even move without my Ipod and cell phone) and started the hike to pick up my sister. Everything was going well until I reached Pleasant Street, which is a busy street lined with huge houses and polluted with horrible drivers. Fortunately for me, at 5:00 on a Thursday afternoon I was just in time to hit rush hour, and was forced to dart across a street in which angry drivers were actually trying to hit me.

After narrowly avoiding death and crossing the street I thought I had successfully completed my journey. Little did I know that on the other side of the street was a bunch of middle schoolers waiting for a fight. As I stepped up on the curb I glanced to my left and saw that one of them was yelling at me. I took of my music headphones and all I heard was “GAY” before all of them started laughing. Feeling at the top of my game I looked at the kid who said it (probably 5 feet, and in 6th or 7th grade) and said “what?” To this the kid hollered “In that purple jacket you look wicked gay!” This was promptly followed by uncontrolled howls from the kids surrounding friends. Apparently this was the punks first time calling someone gay.

Feeling honored to be this kids first victim, I just laughed to myself at their immaturity and continued towards the Boys and Girls Club. I had taken about two steps before the kids recovered from their hysterical laughter and noticed that I wasn’t interested. This time one of the other boys started to say something. “Yeah that’s right, walk away!” he screamed, apparently unaware that his voice cracked a record 83,715,943,204 times as he yelled. To this I paused, checked my phone, and saw that I had 17 minutes until I had to pick up my sister. With a quick amount of math, I figured that if it took me approximately 3 minutes to slaughter each kid I would still have 2 minutes to make it to the Boys and Girls Club. So I took a step back, and began to viciously grill the first kid, making crucial eye contact with him and forcing him to sweat. In about 40 seconds his face turned pale and he broke eye contact. Grill #1.

The second kid didn’t want any of this, so he began to stand up and walk towards me, as if he wanted to fight me. He walked with a flamboyant bounce in his step as if he was jumping towards me, and he had his arms outstretched. I wasn’t sure whether this guy was looking for a fight or wanted to start a relationship. Nonetheless, I took a step forward but remained passive. My hands remained in my pocket to show this guy that I didn’t want a hug, and I walked up to him, and this is the conversation that went down:

Me– What’s up man?
Kid #2 (weighing roughly 15 pounds and coming up to my chest)- Yo man what’s your beef?

Let me remind you that this kid is white and skinny

Me– Nothing, what’s you’re problem?
Kid #2– Why you be grillin’ my friend?
Me (pointing to the first kid who is still recovering from getting grilled)- You mean that punk over there? I thought he was a twig, my bad.

To this the other 3 friends burst into laughter, and the first kid got up and also came over here pretending to be gangster

Kid #1– Yo man you best be bouncing outta here
Me (pointing to a fat girl in the group)- The only kid that’s bouncing is your girlfriends belly

To this the first kid, insulted that I made fun of his whale of a girlfriend, shoved my shoulder, trying to push me back. Unfortunately, his fragile finger decinigrated on impact and he ended up shattering his wrist. Seeing that the situation wasn’t going anywhere, I turned to leave. About 10 steps later I got the feeling that someone had thrown a backpack onto me and I was forced to wear an uncomfortable turtle neck. It turns out the kid was on my back trying to strangle me.

Next time you have a really skinny 6th grader on your back trying to kill you, take a second to laugh. That’s what I did. As this kid yelled absurd words at me, I just tossed him off me, planted a grenade in his mouth, and laughed. Then, I turned and went to pick up my sister while the kids friends picked up the shards of his blown up skull.

To you all you other middle schoolers who thought you could mess with me, let this be a warning to you. If you mess with me, I will at no point second-guess grilling you and calling your fat girlfriend a whale.


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