Friday, June 17, 2011

Small child face twist

He was asking for it. So I pinched the neck of that annoying little boy at the museum of bounce houses today.

That is a lie. There is no such place as a bounce house museum.

That little bastard (I mean that both literally and figuratively) kept choke-holding several of the little girls on the ship-shaped bouncer and throwing them to the floor, wherein the abused children would just bounce right back into the clutches of the bully and the whole scenario would happen again and again. Sure, it was comical in that sense, but the jerk deserved to get slugged.

I stood by and watched this occur for a few minutes before finally confronting the boy (like any overly-interjecting parent should do at a bounce house).

"Hey! hands to yourself, please!" I firmly told all the kids, though I really meant it for the offender.

He smiled a shit-grin and looked directly into my soul when he stuck out his arm and clothes-lined another kid.

"Oh, you think your tough?" I asked him, our faces separated only by the mesh veil of the ship.

Again, he smirked. He was taunting me. Or begging me to beat him bloody.

I waited until he turned his back for a moment, no doubt scanning the area for his next victim. In a moment I stuck two fingers, like pincers, through the mesh and gave him a quick pinch on his neck. He cried out in a shock and pain, twisting and contorting his face until it was a mystery whether or not he was even a human boy.

I turned away, partly because I was laughing so hard at the situation, but also because I wanted to be sure the child's mother didn't see me. She didn't. She was too busy flirting with a strong, bald Asian man.

The boy canvassed the area inside the bouncer but gave up, assuming one of the girls had fought back.

One girl did. Me.

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