Gym class was first on the roster and I arrived early to “undress” for battle. I waited in the shadows of the bathroom stall until I heard the oafish laughs of my enemies asking where “Rotten Crotch” was. It was time. I flung the door open and proudly sauntered, as if without a care, through the locker room with draped towel over my rolling, muscular, grizzly bear torso. The towel, perfectly concealing my fiery cup nestled above my strutting, mighty oaks.
They vermin noticed me and stopped mid-dirty joke. The sight of me strolling unprotected was too good to be true for my enemies. It was if a harmless lamb was thrown into a den of starving, crazed wolves. The first wolf leapt to his feet and struck with a lusty laugh crying “CROTCH WHACK!” He almost salivated as he flung his knuckle with abandon towards my incubators-for-future-kings.
His knuckle was doomed. For his strike was greeted with the hard-shelled wall of my concealed battle cup instead of my tender groin. To my absolute delight, he let out a high-pitched squall and lifted his hand in front of his face to display a badly disfigured and broken finger. My eyes filled with the wild zeal of battle. With a loud savage cry I flung off my enormous towel exposing my new fiery shield held in place by handsome purple jock strap. My raucous buttocks proudly unleashed in all their manly glory. I felt as if Atlas had been released of his huge load, mother earth, and free to assail his foes without fear. Showing NO mercy, I whipped the whimpering boy in his own crotch with my giant, damp towel and yelled CRRRROTCH WHACK YOU FOUL DOG!
This was the second and final blow of that battle. The rest of the wolves stood in awe with jaws a-dangle at the scene. It must have been a sight that they would wake in cold sweat to see for the remainder of their days. -Me, in my gladiator attire, hovering like a giant fleshy mountain over the sniveling moronic master of the acne gang. Ah, if only Da Vinci could have seen such a scene, what a famed mural it would have made.
I ferociously burst through the scattering boys with a vicious war cry, snapping everything that moved. It wasn’t long until the room was cleared and Herbert the valiant was all that remained.
Triumph!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Young Herbert Part 2: "Retribution" (Essential Interlude)
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4 comments:
Sigh, I came to read your pearls this evening only to be presented with a most annoying "Page Blocked due to Offensive Content" notification from my automated P**N filter. Rest assured you have been added to my "trusted goodfellas" list, as I'm quite certain you are incapable of corrupting others with your writings.
I must say, young Herbert faced a most unpleasant period. I can sympathize somewhat. It took years of superior earnings to finally expunge the memories of the high-school-jocks-now-selling-cheap-shoes I encountered in the locker after gym class.
You always seem to overcome strife with brilliance, creativity, and panache.
I am overcome.
Herbert, I must say this little illustration of your youthful battles explains a lot.
By the way, you've been tagged for a Seven Random Things About Me MEME over on my blog, if you can lower yourself from your lofty perch long enough to check it out.
Rob-- you have a filter that speaks the High Speech??
Oh Mighty One, thou has obliterated thine enemies in a manner consistent with that of a young god, and in perhaps THE most creative manner! I bet those guys still feel withered and tingly in the loins at the very sight of the colour purple! (I bet their FACES were probably purple for a week!)
ha! At the risk of tainting this good space with a tad of vox populi, allow me to say that "yew rawk!" which, in the vernacular, is high praise indeed, sir!! (you can instantly tell by the use of invented spelling-- to truely compliment one these days, one must speak gibberish, apparently)
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