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EGO sum non vestri deus
EGO sum vestri carnifex
I am not your god. I am not your judge. I am your executioner.
This is the story about a bully. Like many other bullies, he kept to himself when he wasn't beating anybody up or other bully-ish things. Perhaps you know someone like this bully. Maybe he picked on you. Maybe he was you.
We've always heard the side of the prey. Now its time to gear the predator's side. Our tale begins in a high school just like anyone elses. Two unsuspecting freshmen are making their way down the hall. They are talking about something. Something All freshmen talk about.
(80's Wannabe Guy and Levelheaded Black Man are walking down the hall, trying to act cool. It's not working)
80's Wannabe Guy: Hey my man. So what you think about it?
Levelheaded Black Man: I'm thinking what you're thinking dude.
80's Wannabe Guy: Fo' Shilz!
Levelheaded Black Man: No man! Its Shizzle! S. H. … Izzle. We're in high school. You've got to get the lingo right!
(Bruiser barges up, clapping a beefy hand on a shoulder of each freshman.)
Bruiser: Well well! Fresh meat.
80's Wannabe Guy: Hey man! Get off me! So not radical dude!
Levelheaded Black Man: Oh hell. Here we go again.
(Bruiser lifts both freshmen high into the air)
Bruiser: To half-wits in the hall who don't even know the current slang. Time to get you two an education.
(Bruiser twists both freshmen together into a human pretzel ball)
Bruiser: (running with the ball) He shoots! (tossing the ball into a dumpster being wheeled down the hall) He scores! (The two freshmen land neatly into the dumpster.)
(The principal enters. He was captain of the football team during his time)
Principal: Mr. Cancage!
(Bruiser ignores the principal, still smirking at his handiwork being wheeled away)
Principal: Mr. Cancage!
(Bruiser turns around)
Bruiser: Yeah?
Principal: What exactly was the meaning of your behavior? That was most innpropriate! I demand you return those two freshmen to their spot of standing!
(Bruiser rolls his eyes)
Principal: Now, Mr. Cancage!
Bruiser: Ok. Whatever.
(Bruiser stops the dumpster from being moved. He then grasps the upper edge, and flips the dumpster onto its side, depositing the freshmen and their surrounding filth onto the recently cleaned hallway floors.)
Principal: That’s it! Go to the office young man!
Bruiser: (shaking his head) why should I? You're right here in front of me. Why waste time going to your office?
Principal: (spluttering) You're… You're just trying to build up a reputation! (Pointedly, and with conviction) You think you're so big and tough! Well… I can see you for who you really are! You're scared. You can't cope with authority. I can't say I blame you (fixes his glasses). My god. Your parents were just the same. Weak, spineless bookworms! Always trying to change this or something rights that! NO school spirit. No respect at all.
Bruiser: (with a look of cold steel) What did you say? (glares at Principal)
Principal: You heard me! You're a spineless coward.
Bruiser: (swelling with anger) Don't you EVER say that again! You don't know ANYTHING about me, or my parents! You can't even see past the end of your own nose!
Principal: and exactly what would be worth seeing? You? I think not. You've got muscles. That’s the only plus. You waste them for nothing. Nothing! Join a sport. Then you'd be useful! Bring some pride to our school! Good Day!
(The Principal turns and walks away. The scene cuts to black, and when the lights come back on, bruiser is in a classroom, second seat from the front on the far right. Its Pre-Calculus and they've finally finished taking a quiz. Bruiser is staring at the chalkboard. The teacher looks up from her papers)
Teacher: Ike Cancage? Cold you please come up here?
Bruiser: wha? Huh? Oh, sure.
(Bruiser walks up, taking special precaution to stay quiet)
Teacher: Ike. I've just finished grading your quiz.
Bruiser: Ok.
Teacher: Do you know what you got, Ike?
Bruiser: No idea.
Teacher. Ike, you got a perfect. You showed all work, your logic was impeccable, and you even got all parts of the bonus question. You obviously know the material. And yet your failing. Why is that?
Bruiser: 'Cause I don't do the homework.
Teacher: Exactly. Why is that? It kills me to fail you every six weeks. You have the top scores on tests and quizzes, but you insist on not turning in your blessed homework! Why don't you?
Bruiser: I think it's stupid. I know the material. Why do busy work?
Teacher: you have me there. Anyway, there was another point I wanted to discuss. I've seen you in the halls, and you are a vulgar fellow. Why aren't you when you are in my class?
Bruiser: (looking down) to be quite honest, it comes naturally to me. The simplicity of the basic logic is easy to grasp, and once the concept is realized, its all a matter of deducing when to apply a formula. Why do you ask?
Teacher: (smiling) No reason special. You just helped me make a decision. (the bell rings) Good day, Mr. Cancage.
(Bruiser leaves through the door stage right. Soon sounds of his bullying can be heard as he stuffs the same two freshmen from earlier into a locker.)
Bruiser: Form an ionic bond you two. Maybe it'll boost your brains! (laughter)
(It’s the next day, and the teacher is standing in front of the room with a new student…)
Teacher: Class, I'd like you all to meet Miss Katheryne Alice. She's a new student, and I want all of you to make sure she feels welcome. (Catcalls from the peanut gallery) Now now. Behave. I have taken the liberty of looking at Miss Alice's schedule, and picked out a tutor to help settle her into the curriculum. Ike Cancage, (Bruiser, who had been playing with a paper clip, abruptly drops the clip and looks up, caught off guard by the new student…) will you please help Miss Alice get aquainted with our present chapter?
(Katheryne Alice sits in the seat right behind Bruiser and gets her books out. In the process, her calculator drops out, clattering to the floor.)
Katheryne: Oh dear. (Bends over to pick it up)
Bruiser: No no! I've got it. Don't worry. (retrieves the calculator and sets it back onto Katheryne's desk)
Katheryne: (smiles) Thanks.
Bruiser: No problem. (hesitates) It’s the only time you'll see me do something nice.
Katheryne: (shaking head from side to side) Ok. I won't expect it anymore then. (smile) What was your name again?
Bruiser: Icarus Cancage. I go by Ike. And you're Katheryn Alice.
Katheryne: I go by Kat. Kat Alice.
Bruiser: Ike Cancage
Katheryne: So where is your class at?
Bruiser: Let me show you.
I have known of Pam for years, and have a large mutual friend base, yet we never really talked. Apparently when we worked at COSI, she felt I wouldn't want to talk with her, and our paths never really crossed for me to prove her wrong. From that point we didn't see each other until my good friend/sister Tonee's wedding. I still didn't really interact with her, but there are pictures proving I did notice her and her watching me.
Skip ahead some more, and we find ourselves on the Monday before Christmas. Our friends are having a small gathering so we can chase away the storm clouds circling our brows. I almost do not go. As I drive down the road, I see a Meijer and a compulsion pulls me inside. I purchase 2 bottles of eggnog, and head to Tonee's. Fuck it, I need my clouds blown away as well.
I open the door to the Keating's (Tonee was married, remember) and give everyone inside my usual boistrous self followed up with alcohol laden bear hugs. Hugging her triggers something in my mind, because I hold her a bit longer than the others.
Eggnog is pouring. Everyone is enjoying themselves. In my tipsy reverie I happen to hear Pam say she is single. My mind sharpens, and I interject with great fervor for her to confirm her statement. It seems my mind is setting a stage for me, and I am but an unwitting player. She does indeed confirm her statement. She inguires as to the reason for my outburst. I have no answer, and mumble something to soothe the inquiries, yet inside y head a whirling dirvish of cogs, gears, and the like grind at a fever pitch to answer the inquiry to myself.
I am standing outside. Others are with me. We are all smoking from my pack, talking and laughing. Tim makes it know that he would like to persue Pam, and asks my help in the matter. I agree. Things slowly die down and I give Pam one last, long hug, again not truly understanding why.
It is the next day. I get a text message asking to guess who it is. I am eating a Hunters' Club from Jimmy Johns. After some deliberation, I guess correctly that it is Pam. She asked Tim for my number. We text each other quite a bit. She is on her way to New York with her family. I am beginning to feel a bond forming, but decide that to follow them would not be prudent due to my good friend Tim has already asked my help in wooing her. A tinge of regret creeps into my mind.
Christmas night. Tim comes by and we vid skype Pam until the very wee hours of morning. I coach him as to what to say and do, wishing all the while that it was my voice saying those things.
Pam texts me the next day, and soon we talk on the phone. She tells me how Tim has no chance and asks my help in staving him off. This phrase uplifts me. I begin to think of how to express myself to her, while still making Tim feel I am helping him, and all the while dealing with a heroine and pill addicted soon-to-be ex.
I am talking with Pam much more now. We are communicating via text during the Vid Skype sessions with Tim. Tim comes up with an amazing idea for him, Pam, myself and my girlfriend to all go shooting. I relay the information, all the while wracking my brain as how to express that the girlfriend is not going to be in the picture much longer. She seems taken aback by the information, and I try every subtlety I have to infer future circumstances while not deliberately denouncing my girlfriend. I will never trash the name of someone I am with, even if I plan to break things off. Until I do, they are my girlfriend and get all the amenities thereof.
Pam comes home tomorrow morning. I talk and text her as she is on her way home. She calls me when she makes it home safe. We make plans to see each other that evening, Monday evening. We publically want to have a snowball fight. We privately want each other.
I am on my way to her house. The snow is thick, and I miss her house. Upon my turnaround I realize the snowman I passed was in truth a very warmly clad Pamela bouncing in the moonlight. I park, and head inside. I meet her mother, father and sister. We head out into the moonlight to play in the snow. Both of us are acting nervous and giddy. We carve a giant heart and a sperm in the snow with our feet before the first snowballs are thrown. Our fun time is cut short by my falling into an unidentified toxic substance. Her mother loans me pants. We spend the remainder of the day talking, laughing, cuddling, and playing video games. We stay up all night. 8 am rolls around, and I convince her to tell me what is on her mind. She likes me. I tell her I feel the same.
That was everything up to the 27th. Things move faster from there.