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Timmy And His Teachable Moment


It was hard. Timmy's Dad always told him "Don't sweat the small stuff". And he didn't. Because none of it was small stuff to Timmy.

It all started at swimming lessons when he was eight. His trunks slipped off in the pool. He was mortified when everyone laughed at him. But it wasn't just bad enough being a victim of ridicule when the incident occurred. It would chase him down the rest of his life because in that one quick moment he had earned the nickname PeeWee.

About a year later, swimming lessons behind him for good, the baseball coach inquired why everyone called him PeeWee. PeeWee, er, Timmy was mortified as his team mates sniggered and cruelly whispered in a singalong voice "PeeWee, PeeWee, how can you pee with something so wee?".

And so it went as he grew older. Girls he dated would always ask "So, why does everyone call you PeeWee?" Needless to say Timmy's relationships never lasted very long, though longer than, well, you know.

Being such a focus of derision for his teenage life took it's toll on Timmy. He began hating those people who called him that diminutive nickname, especially those who laughed. He began to plot his revenge.

He surreptitiously began to collect his materials and soon quietly went to work. He worked deep into the night. He constructed a large basket, large enough to stand in. And he attached to it a large balloon, the largest balloon you've ever seen.

The day dawned and Timmy set off from a field on the outskirts of town. As he flew over the school he let go his secret weapon - a huge cache of urine he'd collected from a herd of cows. The urine splattered all over the school's roof and grounds, soaking any students in the now wet and foul smelling school yard.

"Call me PeeWee will they?" Timmy laughed maniacally to himself - as he was the only one in the balloon's basket. "After today they'll call me Big Pee" he laughed to himself.

Now Timmy was just a few fries short of a poutine and never foresaw that forever more he'd be ridiculed as "that fucking idiot".

The prompt from the folks at Studio30+ is derision/ridicule this week. At the risk of being the object of ridicule I offer up this post.


Comments

A few fries short of a poutine, eh? Poor fucking idiot.
Cheryl said…
Elegant and silly.
nonamedufus said…
You've described me to a T.
Katy B. said…
I gotta admit - had to look up "poutine," and it doesn't sound very good. Not as bad as a vengeful "Big Pee," though. Ha!
nonamedufus said…
Poutine is like a delicacy around here. Being a few fries short would be the object of ridicule, not to mention a matter of not getting your money's worth.
Cheryl said…
I thought you preferred coffee.
ReformingGeek said…
This post is #1 in my book. Now, if you'll excuse me, I seem to be in need of the facilities.
nonamedufus said…
Reffie, you are too funny. Give them my name, you'll get a good seat.
Joe said…
Poor PeeWee, that fucking idiot. His revenge was too gentle, too subtle and fancy of thought and plan. These days, gunfire would be assured. Glad it didn't come to that. I also half expected his balloon to crash, or some other tragic end to befall him. Perhaps I am too cynical, tonight...
Jayne said…
LOL!!! Great ending line!
nonamedufus said…
I know I could have gone several ways with this but I think demonstrating his complete ineptitude was the best way for me.
nonamedufus said…
Glad you liked it Jayne. Thanks.

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