Once there was a boy, a very annoying, not-very-bright little boy. He was my enemy; I did not enjoy his company or his personality… at all.

        He was always swaggering about, bragging about some little “achievement” he’d made. He boasted and bragged; swaggered and smirked, and most of all, insulted people who actually had lives… I would roll my eyes and walk away, thinking that someone should teach that little smug pig a thing or two. (Preferably many things.)

        One day, the “thing” brought his little pudgy self over to where I was talking with some other friends. I just ignored him.

        When we were leaving, he was forcing everybody to give him “knuckles.” I thought it was revolting, and I tried to slip away, but he saw me.

        “Hey, you! Yeah, the short one. Give me knuckles!” Inside, I could see my self sticking out my tongue and holding my nose. But, a light bulb suddenly lit above my head.

        “Okay… If you insist…” I smiled wickedly. He stretched forth his fist. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I thought. Oh well… I put mine up next to his, and…

        “OH! Ouch! You like totally totaled my knuckles! Wow! How could you do that to me?”

        Easy, I replied mentally, but physically, I just shrugged like it was nothing and walked away from the loud obnoxious noises of his pain, a smirk spreading across my face.