I’ve told you before that I don’t like bullies. Not one little bit. Well, as luck would have it, the bully’s bad luck, the Rage and I had a rare moment to ourselves so we did what any Rager would do, we went and got an ice cream. We were enjoying the chocolate dripping off our chin when we heard, and then saw, a couple of kids on their bikes. They were watching someone and after a few seconds, we saw a younger boy walking around the side of the building where the boys were waiting. He had just gotten himself an ice cream and was oblivious to the trap that had been laid for him. We finished off our treat and walked over to the side of the building to see what was going to happen, all the while knowing exactly how this was going to play out. The Rage was a kid once too and not always as all-knowing and powerful as he is today if you get my meaning.
As soon as our young hero turned the corner, the biggest of the lot swatted the boy’s cone up and smashed it onto his shirt, ice cream and cone chunks everywhere. Then, as if he didn’t just win a gold medal at the dick Olympics, he pushed the boy to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. That’s about the time I pulled the taser out and shot the little bastard right in his juju beans. Hopefully, it rendered the little prick impotent. His posse hightailed it out of there as soon as the high pitch screaming started so it was just Mr. Bully, the little guy covered in ice cream, and professor Rage, who was ready for class to begin. I pulled the switchblade, the big one, and flicked it out and held it ¼ inch from Bully’s eye and looked at my sticky little friend and said, “I think I am just going to kill him…. slowly…” I turned my attention back to the bully who’s pants now had a large wet stain growing in his lap and he was doing that sobbing thing that kids do where they take a breath in and it hitches like 4 times. My little buddy showed his true color that day and it restored just a tiny fraction of faith back into humanity for the Rage and I. Sticky wiped his own tears from his eyes and actually pleads with me,
“P… please don’t Mr., don’t hurt him.” His whole body was shaking. I turned and looked into his eyes and asked,
“Are you sure, he should be punished for picking on someone smaller and younger than he is?” I pointed the knife towards several delicate areas of the bully’s anatomy, his sobs coming unrestricted now. My buddy looks me in the eyes with desperation,
“Please, he won’t do it again, will you Mikey?” Mikey looked like he wasn’t going to be doing much other than having some pretty graphic nightmares so I upped the ante, I don’t like bullies.
“What’s your address Mikey?” If I thought he looked scared before, I can say that I literally scared the shit out of him now. The tortoise definitely outran the rabbit. I did get the address and I explained to Mikey exactly what I would do if he ever bullied anyone again. What I described was not what I was going to do to Mikey. It was what I was going to do to his mother, father, and younger sister, all the while Mikey watching, knowing it was his fault. I am pretty sure his bullying days are behind him but you know we will check in on him from time to time.
Why such a long-winded story about bullies? Zulu is a bully of the highest caliber. He was fully ready to sacrifice thousands of lives to get what he wants, more power. Greed, deadly sin #1 reared its ugly head again. Wikipedia defines greed as “inordinate or insatiable longing for unneeded excess especially for wealth, status or power.” Zulu already has an enormous amount of power and that just isn’t enough for him, he is willing to commit genocide to achieve more. It was a lovely plan until the Rage came along and fucked it all up for him. Zulu is going to require more than a few threats though. Good thing the Rage always has a trick or 73 up his sleeve. I am heading to the ops center to serenade Zulu with some “I Hate Everything About You” by Three Days Grace…. loudly. And then I am going to show him how much.