What happened? Gawd I want to pound them in the face for you but that wouldn't be too lady-like...
Haw-haw! Yer gonnae laugh, seriously. Wait til ye hear this....
So... me and a few uh ma classmates whom ah got on quite well with (Steve, Scott n' Douglas) are just standin' in the playground, chattin away, watch the other kids play football. We're aw leaning against the steel barrier that cordoned off the school car park.
When these 3 lads come up, 2 of them ah knew (Scott and Bobby), and start pick on me. Douglas goes
"C'mon, jist leave um alane, eh?"
Ah walk away, but walk to the centre of the tarmac, which wuz just this big wide square. And because the primary school wanted to keep the glass playfield, the decided to tarmac around instead of pittin' doon the same big square paving stone used for walkin' around the protacabins. If that makes sense?
So, am just pacing back and forth, starin' at ma feet. When the 3 lad approach. Scott is wearin an Adidas tracksuit top, got a skinhead haircut. Bobbie is this tall lad with short curly hair, who's wearin' yin uh them puffy jackets -
he looked like a right bellend. And third lad, well... He wuz jist fat!! (And, also, hud curly hair)
They're aw laughin' at me:
"Hehehe, look it um?" Mocking the way ah walk. Aw, they're lappin' it up, so they 're. Then Scott says:
"See if ah hit you, will you hit me back...?" Ah respond with
"That depends if ye hit me"
His mates are laughin', tell him to go for it. So he goes to punch me but stop a few inches from ma face. Ah step back, he smurks and laughs. And then he goes: "C'mon then! Whit ye gonnae dae?" He pushing me, nearly knocking me off balance. Then, he sucker-punches me in the chest. Follows that up spittings on ma face an' callin' me a
"paki".
Ooooohh!!
Ah wipe his spit from ma cheek, and go:
"You b@stard..." They're aw laughin', then Scott goes:
"Awww.... whit ye gonnae dae - cry?"
Well... ah just snapped! Ah grab his left arm and bend it back in a Fujiwara armbar submission hold. Basically ah've got him like this:
^ Except instead of being on the ground, ah've got Scott down to one knee. And he starts screaming: "Ahhh, ma airm!" Ah go:
"Ye dinnae say anythin' aboot me defendin' masel', did ye?! And I am pissed off....
He's whimpering:
"Ma arm, ma arm...!" And I then go:
"Aw, hawd yer wheesht! Folk are startin' tae stare. If ye stop strugglin' ah might let ye go, awright?" He just nods, desperating try tae hold back the tears.
Then ah yell very loudly at Bobby who backed away the moment ah grapped Scott's arm: "Right! Here's whit..." Ah don't finish this sentence because out of my peripheral vision, ah see the fat lad raising his right fist. And ah am full aggressive, shite Scottish as this journal's name suggests, at this point.
"Wur you gan tae hit me?! C'mon ahead, then. Just coz ah got a hawd yer pal here. Doesnae mean ah cannae still drop 'em and beat the shite outta you. Now... back-off fatty! Unless ye want yer pal here tae end up wi' a broken arm!"
Bobbie is pleading wi' me at this point tae let Scott go. Ah go:
"And, eh, why should ah do that, then? In case ye forgot, youse three started this! Ah mean, ah'd see yer point if ah done this...." (My right knee + Scott's ribs = Ouch!) "...When he asked me tae hit um, but ah dinnae, did ah?" Am still hoping stop in this armbar, glarring at the fat lad, when ah say: "Okay, say sorry" The fat lad goes: "
Sorry..." Which prompts me tae go:
"Eh... ah wuz'nae talkin' tae you, wide-load!"
So then, calmly but terrifyingly:
"C'mon, say sorry and ah'll let ye go..."
Scott, in tears by this point, says
"Ye promise?" Ah say:
"Aye, if you apologies".
"Ah, am sssorry", he stutters through the sobs.
I rather cruelly follow-up with:
"Whit for...?" I look at him like I haven't a clue what he's on aboot. He then says: "For, uh, pushin' ye..."
"And...?!"
"Punchin' ye..."
"And...?"
"Callin' ye a paki..."
"Huv ye no' forgetten anything? Ah think ye huv"
"And sssorry... fur spittin'... in yer face!"
"Okay, ah let ye go now!"[/I] And ah drop him to the tarmac, and land in a heap, grettin'. Ma face is red at this point, am still ragin'. Am like f_ _kin' Francis "Franco" Begbie outta Trainspotting at this point, y'know the bar fight scene.
Ah yell: "Yur no' laugh now, are youse?!" Ah square up tae the fat lad. Get right in his face and ask: "Still want tae hit me? Then come ahead!" He step pack, I push 'em then ping his right ear. "Your turn, lard arse! Oh, wait, ah'll even make it easier fur ye - ah shut ma eyes!"" Which ah do. I am just goadin' them at this point. "Whit ye wait fur...? Hit me! Didn't think so!"
Bobbie is still standin' a few feet away, he's near to where ma mates are still standing. But then, am oblivious tae the fact aw eyes are on me, stunned silence. And it mair tense than the ending in showdown scene of
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
"Hi Bobbie! C'mere a minute, ah want a word wi' you!" He just stands there, motionless - as if the soles of his shoes huv melted intae the tarmac. Ah lose ma patient with him and go:
"Look... ye can dae this easy way and git yer arse over here. Or the hard way, ah march over tae you. Your choice! Hurry up, ah huv'nae got aw day!"
Bobbie tentatively makes his way towards me. Am standin' over Scott, who still sniffingly and teary-eyed is clutch his left arm.
"It's not so funny when yer on the receiving end, is it?"
Bobbie just stares at his shoes, avoiding eyes. You would anaw, because ah wuz livid.
"Whit ye lookin' at yer shoes fur? 're yer laces untied?"
Bobbie mutters, almost inaudibly:
"Naw..."
"Sorry, didnae quite catch that! Speak up..."
"No!"
"That's better! By the way, ma face is here, ya b@stard! Look, see? So look me in the eye when ah ask ye summit!"
After a short pause then go:
"Ye see that?!" Pointin' at Scott, who's still on grun.
Greetin' his wee heart oot. Ah say, still because time seem to have stood still. Between the start of provocative altercation and my violent psychotic response. Or... :idontknow: Mibbe it wuz the eerie silence that wuz still lingering. Ah mean, it wuz so quiet ye could hear a deaf person sneeze.
But ah digress... Anyway, upon being asked ma rhetorical question, Bobbie stares at his pal on ground. If he didnae shite himsel' at that point. He was aboot tae get a helluva fright that might make um do so...
Because ah go:
"See that, ah did that! Y'know why? Because asked for it. Get a good look, take it aw in!" Bobbie looks at me, at his pal, then back at me. Am jist starin' at him the whole time, deadly serious. Not crackin' a smile for even a moment. And if the sight of what ah'd just to his pal didnae make Bobbie shite his breeks. Whit ah did next certain should huv done.
Ah grab Bobbie by his puffy jacket, pull him close tae me, so ma face is just millimeters fae his own. And ah chillingly state the following. And this is verbatim word fur word:
"Right! You better listen tae me coz ah'll say this only once! See if you EVER, push, punch, spit on me or say anything racist again, like yer pal did. Ah'll do tae you, whit ah did tae him. Mibbe worse? So next time, use yer heid! Or ah'll use mine an' break yer nose! Do ah make masel' clear?!" :bat:
He's like:
Noddin' his heid.
"Ah, ah, ah, eh.... aye!"
Ah let go of his jacket and attend tae his pal, still layin' on the ground. Ah go: "Right, Mackenzie, up ye get. C'mon, baldy breeks. Here, ah'll help ye"
Ah extend ma hand but he doesnae take it. He's concerned ah've broke his arm:
"Ah think you've broke ma arm!" "Well, if ah hud, you'd huv screamed loud enough tae be heard in Dumfries! It's no' broken, coz ah could've snapped yer airm off afore you realised ah'd done it!"
Ah tell him tae get up coz folk are still staring. But again, he just lies there. Until ah say:
"Unless ye want kicked in the baws, git up! Awright, penality shoot-out at Ibrox Stadium it is then..."
"No, no, no! Ah'll git up, ah'll git up"
"Fine, huv it your way... Help him up, would ye?", nodding to Bobby and the fat kid. They do, as requested and help their batter friend to his feet. And as the two others help the so-called "Tough cunt" to his feet, I goad them for a finally time: "Hi, lads! Ah dare ye tae tell a teacher aboot this, see if yin'll believe ye!". After I utter this, I laugh-out-loud.
Ah look at the people on the football field, lookin' at me in stunned disbelief. and withoot a hint uh irony say:
"Awright folks, shows over nuthin' tae see here"
Ma friends and fellow classmates, Scott n' Dougie, who watched this prolonged beatdown occur, approach me, speechless at what just happen. Steve is still standing by the barrier. Douglas just goes:
"****in' Hell!"
Scott goes: "Where'd that come fae?"
"Ah thinks that's been buildin' fur years, it's no' coz uh them, either"
Scott then asks if am awright. Ah look doon at ma hands and am trembling, shakin' like a leaf. Ah just matter uh factly go: "Nut, am no'!" and as they led me back tae where Steve is, I just slumb against the barrier, slide now, knees in ma chest and breakdown in tears. I look up to see the three bullies that ah just roughed up and mental tortured, walk wounded. "What da f_ _k're youse lookin' at?!", ah snap.
"D'ye think they'll tell a teacher on me?"
Douglas chims in immediately: "Eh, efter what you did tae them - nae chance!"
Ah sigh then "Guid". And the four of us huv a wee laugh at ma relief.
