School Fights Part 2
A few times, everyone had to very slowly walk away from the school, as a teacher left. As soon as the teacher had rounded a corner, the crowd eagerly rushed back to Ground Zero.
Finally, the Lollipop Lady left, and it was Fight Time.
Having never done this before, I wasn’t really sure what happened to get things moving. We faced off against each other, and we took it in turns saying “COME ON THEN!!!!” at each other for a few minutes.
Neither of us was seemingly going to ‘come on’. Frankly, everyone else seemed to be getting a bit bored.
Some helpful soul in the crowd gave me a hearty shove in the back, propelling me towards Chompy like a hang-glider heading towards a mountain.
I got my hands in the way and gave him a good old shove. He returned the favour, asking me to “COME ON THEN!!!!!!!” even louder than before.
Another few long minutes of this passed.
It was becoming clear that this big hard bully who’d called me out for a fight, didn’t actually want to START the fight!
I decided to take the initiative. My Karate Competition Winning Move (yes, I had one, and it changed every few months – no, it was never the Crane Kick) at the time was a hefty old reverse lunge punch to the gut.
I dropped down and my lightning-fast fist went into the folds of flab on his belly, sinking deeper and deeper… and deeper… and deeper… and….
Surely I should have hit SOMETHING solid by now?
I must have been almost shoulder deep in the fuckers belly, and I still hadn’t hit anything solid! Usually people would be crumpled up and spewing on the floor, and the Judges would wave flags in my direction and yell “Point!”. All I got here was a muffled “Oomph!” from Chompy as I retrieved my hand!
He didn’t look happy about the whole affair though.
He came at me, making little “Uss! Uss!” noises every time he threw a punch. Ah – that would be his Boxing training! Whatever it was, it was fucking irritating, and something he had the piss ripped out of him for years afterwards… I suppose at least I hadn’t yelled out a bloodcurdling “KIAI!!!” when I punched him, or I may have got the same!
It’s funny how when you’re younger, you can smash each other in the face multiple times and cause no damage. There’s a line you cross somewhere between 16 and 21, when all of a sudden one smack in the mush is enough to end the fight in a shower of blood and snot. I guess fighting when young was more fun in that respect.
We both danced around – me doing the gay Karate freestyle bob, him wiggling his Station-from-Bill-&-Teds humungous ass and ‘Uss! Uss!’ing his little heart out.
The crowd was all excited, as we harmlessly bashed each others brains out with our fists.
I dropped down low to deliver my trademark sweep, when he gave me an opening… and promptly fell off the curb into the road.
He ‘uss’ed me with an uppercut right on my jaw just as I was struggling to get out of the path of the car that was coming down the road! The cheek!
I gave him a quick tomp on the side of the head as I got back out the road, and we reached a lull.
Big Ole Chompy was looking a bit worse for wear – not because of battle damage, but he was obviously only used to collecting other kids’ dinner money, not having to ‘uss!’ more than a few times.
“Do you want to stop?” I asked him.
“You heard him! He wants to stop!” He cried to the crowd, picking up his bag and waddling off up the street.
I blinked a few times, rubbed the tiny bruise on my jaw, accepted the pats on the back from everyone, and never got bullied again!