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From: " +Grant. " <+Grant@grant.grant>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.prettyboy
Subject: +*+*+*+ The Adventures of Stevie #177 "Confounded Bully" +*+*+*+
Date: 27 Jul 2011 16:19:00 -0500
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The Adventures of Stevie #177
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 14 in this story, after year 4 special school, in the Summer.
The Adventures of Stevie #177 "Confounded Bully"
Dear Carlos,
I was running around the parking lot like usual, with Pete that
time, when a boy wanted to talk to me. It was the bully who's nuts Race
kicked. I didn't want to stop, so I said. "We aren't finished running.
Run with us, and you can talk." He tried doing that, but found out he
didn't have enough breath to talk at the same time. Actually, he didn't
have much breath at all, and had to stop running and start panting in
place. He said "Wait!" We ran back to him and started doing pushups, so
he could talk to us. He said "What are you doing?" I said "I'm sorry. I
know how it is, when you forget your glasses." He got irritated and
said, "I don't need glasses." I said "Then why can't you see what we're
doing?" He yelled "I can see it." I said "Then why did you ask?" I
could tell Pete was laughing on the inside. He knew I was, too. He said
"WHY are you doing that?" I said "Why didn't you say that in the first
place? It's my exercise time. I should be running. I'm doing a
different exercise here just so you can talk to me, so I can keep
warmed up, for when I finish my running after you're through talking."
Then we did jumping jacks. He said "Stop that!" I said "No. Why?" He
said "I can't talk to you like that." I said "Really? Then what have I
been hearing coming out of your mouth?" Pete was almost ready to laugh
out loud. The bully just stood there with his mouth open. I said "If
you don't start saying something interesting, I'm going to finish my
run." He said "Stay out of my business!" I said "How can I do that,
when I don't know what your business is?"
The bully was getting very irritated, which was what I wanted. He
said "Stop! I can't think when you're moving like that." We kept moving
while I said to Pete, "He can't think." Pete said "I noticed. That's a
problem, alright." I said "The polite thing to do is to stop, so he can
think." Pete said "Might work." We stopped and sat down. I said to the
bully, "Have a seat and talk." He said "Stay out my my business." I
said "We were polite, and did what you asked, so you could think. It
doesn't seem to have worked. Why don't you do the polite thing
let's finish our run." We made to get up, and the bully said, "Oh,
alright." He said down in front of us. We stayed seated, and waited for
him to speak. He didn't, so I said, "Hi. I'm Stephen, and this is my
friend Pete. What's your name?" He said "I'm Bart." I said "Pleased to
meet you, Bart." He didn't say anything, so I said, "Nice weather we're
having isn't it? But I think you want to talk about something else?" He
said "I don't want you interfering with my business." I said like I was
interested, "Oh, and what business are you in?" He said "That's not
what I mean." I said "Well, why don't you say what you actually mean?"
He said "I'm trying to!" I looked at him, patiently. He said "You
helped a boy who kicked me in the nuts." I said "Yes I did. I like
helping people. I would help YOU if you needed it. Do you think it's a
bad thing to help people?" He struggled with that, and burst out with
"Yes!" I said "Does that mean you think people shouldn't help each
other, not even you, if you need it?"
He said "No! I didn't mean it that way." I said "Then which way did
you mean it?" He said "I don't want you to help HIM." I said "I'm
sorry, I can't change what already happened. Or do you have a time
machine?" I think he actually ground his teeth in frustration. It did
sound like it. He said "Just stay out of my way!" I said "I hadn't
planned to be in anybody's way." He said "Stay out of my fights." I
said "I saw you lose one. You could have used some help with that." He
said "He didn't fight fair!" I said "What is fair about fighting? He
didn't want to fight, but you kept trying to punch him. THAT wasn't
fair by any civilized standard. He stopped you, in a way which didn't
cause any mark or damage. That was very nice of him, even if you didn't
feel like jerking off that night." He yelled "I don't jerk off!" I said
"Oh, that's too bad. You don't know what you're missing. I do it often.
I thought all boys did it. I'm sorry. Maybe you're not a real boy, and
can't do it." He yelled "I do SO jerk off!" I said "Maybe you shouldn't
say that so loud." He looked around, embarrassed. I said "I didn't
interfere with your fight. I helped him after you lost, and all the
fighting was over. You know, it's not a good idea to pick fights,
because you never know how good a fighter the other guy is, or his
friends or parents are, until you get bashed. Experts say, never
underestimate your opponent. Really good fighters are the ones who
don't like to fight the most, because they know how easy it is to get
hurt. I don't know about you, but I don't like to get hit, specially
THERE. That's why I try to avoid situations like that. Maybe you should
think about that some. Anyway, it's been interesting talking with you.
We should be getting back. If you ever need a friend, look me up." I
waved to him as Pete and I jogged away toward my building. Bart just
stood there with his mouth hanging open, hesitantly waving back to us,
and then forcing his hand down like it didn't belong to him.
When we got inside, Pete collapsed into a chair in the waiting room,
laughing hysterically. I waited patiently for him to finish, and said,
"I feel sorry for him." He said "You would. That's why I love you. What
you did to him was SO funny. You played him like a piano. That was the
neatest surreptitious behavior modification therapy session I've ever
heard of!" I said "Thanks." We went upstairs and undressed in my
bedroom. Lying on my bed, I said "That was just the first session. It's
not going to change him, but it might make him think a little after his
next fight. The important thing is WHY he picks fights. No amount of
talking to him is going to change that part of his external environment
which makes him so combative. He is insecure and doesn't like himself.
Something or somebody is causing that, probably parent or school
problems, or both. Sooner or later, some kid's father is going to go
after him. That's when I can help him some more, and he will know it
then. I planted that in his mind, when I said I if he ever needs a
friend. He will come to me when he is afraid." He said "Oh! That's
deep."
I said "It's not something I'm looking forward too." Pete said, "I
understand. Port me here when it happens, and I'll back you up." I said
"Thanks." He said "I wish there was something more I can do for you."
He said that while he was playing with my nuts. I said "There is ALWAYS
that." And I played with his. I started the link right away, which
magnified our pleasure. Just when were were going to change to more
direct action, I heard Race come toward the closed bedroom door. I said
"Come in, Race." He did, and saw what were doing, because we hadn't
stopped. I had turned off the link, but I had plans.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
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