I went hog-ass wild on him one day, just hitting and hitting and never letting up. I was a machine with no off switch.
From then on, he cowered and slunk away from ME. I expect today he would have called ME the bully. LOL
I had a bully who outweighed me by 50 pounds and picked on me daily.
No other guy would mess with him, so I’d be befriended the toughest girl in school.
She kicked his ass and that was the end of it.
I had a bully. Bruce, his name was. It occured from kindergarten through fifth grade. It was verbal and relentless. I was meek, never stood up to him, and never told my parents.
Fifth grade, I spent six months in the hospital, and when sixth grade started I was on crutches. Bruce never missed a beat, and opened his mouth to begin another verbal assault. Without thinking, I whipped around, held a crutch perpendicular to my body, swung it hard, and hit him hard on his side. That was the end of it, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t happy about being one-upped by a shy girl.
Now, I’d probably be in trouble, but it was 1959 and things were different then.