DISTORTION

Joe Rigsee is the biggest ass I know.  Every girl in school wants to be with him and every guy is afraid of him.  I want to break his nose in nine different places, and then kick him when he is on the ground crying like the baby he is.  I think a meter stick to the solar plexus would really be necessary right now.  Baseball tryouts are coming up and all this crack child can talk about is how great of a pitcher he is.  I think his mother tried to abort with him and halfway through the procedure he popped out and said, “Here I am!”  Every person in school lionizes Joe; even the principal asks him how’s it going.  I would really love to be the one to terminate his life.  Rubber bands can fly with such a velocity that when shot, the shooter has about three seconds to look innocent.  If the shooter, like myself is skilled enough or talented, as I like to say, they can get two to three shots off and still have time to check their watch.  Joe is in my social studies class and loves to hit on all the girls.  I would love to hit him.  Joe is the type of person that just needs to be left on an island with no food or water.  He makes everyone’s life a living hell that he doesn’t approve of.  Reading isn’t Joe’s favorite thing to do.  He is a jock. Need I say more than that?  Yes I do know that was a stereotypical statement but it is the truth for Joe.  I’m telling you that when he reads, it takes awhile.  HA!  Sorry, I know that it is mean to laugh at someone’s weakness, but I love it when the bad guy gets it. 

So, lets review, Joe is a jerk, he is my social studies class, and I can shoot rubber bands like there is no tomorrow.  Joe is reading about how Tibet is full of Buddhists.  This I didn’t know and really think for some reason I have to remember this.  I spot two rubber bands lying three feet from me and devise a plan.  Joe is going to get it in the back of the head, not once but twice.  Yes! This plan is the best.  There is only one thing standing between destiny and me, six students that would rat me out faster than a professional drag racer’s reaction time.  I slide my foot towards them, and lift up my foot to prepare to step on and bring them closer into my grasps.  I have them under my foot and bring them to a comfortable position to pick them up.  I drop my pencil and move my foot picking up the rubber bands and my pencil.  I have no adrenaline rush, nor a panic attack; I am a warrior on a mission.  I will die before not completing it.  The teacher starts pointing out where Tibet is because some poor inbred didn’t know where it was.  Everyone looks at the board, which is the opposite way I need people to look.  I am a sniper, I will wait and wait mercifully I will kill and kill again. This man is my mortal enemy.  I will destroy him without hesitation.  I’m going to let loose the dogs of war.  All I can think are two things; one, I can’t wait to shoot this jerk in the big thick air-filled thing he calls his head, and two, oh please just look the other way. This is going to be my first stand, and most definitely not my last.  The teacher is done explaining the geography of Tibet and everyone goes back to looking and following Joe’s choppy words in their books.  I look around and count, thirty-two freaks that would rat me out for their personal gains.  Wow, what a concept, this Joe has got everyone whipped to the point that no one will stand up against him.  I bet if everyone would band together, Joe would simply step down and shut up.  No one is smart enough to figure out what banding together means anyway. I bet someone would ask a definition for together. The door opens, and every one looks to see who it is or if God himself opened the door.  I ready, aim, and let loose with both rubber bands; I never shot any so fast in my life before. I shot the first one fast enough that it was in the air flying towards his huge target of an air filled head while I still had time to aim and fire the second.  Both bands flying in the air towards the jerk and I start to look at the girl giving our teacher a message from the office and then out of nowhere, Joe the big man stands up and yells, “OUCH! Somebody hit me!” Our teacher, a product of the ‘70s says, “Yo man, not so loud, your messin’ up the teachin’ environment.” “Somebody hit me!” “That is impossible Joe, no one is out of their seat.” “No you idiot, with a ‘ubber band!” “Firstly, I am not an idiot, I have a degree, you do not. Secondly, whomever hit you in the head deserves an award.” “I can’t ‘lieve you said dat teach!” “Believe it, Joe.  Now, who besides myself would love to hit you with a rubber band?” “Teach I dunno, but it was so fast it felt like two!” The class roars with laughter, some point at the poor defenseless invalid that stands with his hand on his head in awe.  I am in pure heaven; this is the greatest moment of my middle school career.  Joe starts wandering around the room asking who did it.