I've practiced martial arts since I was 6, so I know how to defend myself well. I didn't learn how to kill someone until I was 10, but that's another story...
Anywho, In 4th grade, some douche named James Rice was terrorizing my fellow classmates and I for the longest time. He came up to me one day during recess while my friend Edmund and I were melting gummy bears with a magnifying glass (we were bored... wanna fight about it?!) He tried to take our snacks and I stood up for them (Ed was shrimpy). He shoved me against a wall and held me by my shoulders. So, I kneed him in the solar plexus and panther-fisted him smack dab on the forehead. He had a red blotch for a week and never bothered us again.
Another bully, this time in the 6th grade, I got ticked off at and broke his right hand. He wore a cast for about three weeks. He never did say how it broke...
