Worth Every Minute
by jackwabbit

They’re always telling me violence doesn’t solve anything.

It’s too bad they don’t know that I know better, and not just in the teenaged angst sort of way.

Sometimes violence is the only tool for the job, and I do believe this situation calls for it.

This kid is bigger than me, and I know he thinks he’s got me beat.

Hell, everyone here thinks he’s got me beat.

Except me.  And that’s all that counts.

I know this thug, and I’m tired of him.

I’m tired of his insults and his arrogance.

He picked the wrong beanpole to push around today.

I wipe the smugness from his face with a closed fist.

His eyes widen in surprise for a second before my feet take his out from under him.

He lands on his big butt in front of a legion of cheering uber-geeks.

I feel like a hero.

And I got to tell ya, it feels damn good.

Adult hands pull me off my deserving victim before I can deliver the witty remark that I’d been saving for this moment, and I know what’s coming, but I couldn’t care less.

I’ll gladly serve a week’s detention for this one.

The End