Authors: Stephen Zanzucchi
Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Readers / Chapter Books
Blog of a Bully (9 page)
The winning comment of the week is from a guy who suggested making a homemade card telling the girl that a secret admirer wants to go to the dance with her. The note should include a P.S. that if the girl wants to know who the secret admirer is, the girl should meet him at the ice cream shop at a specific time and date and that the girl will know him when she sees him.
The secret admirer should buy a nice rose to go with the note, place the card and flower on her front doormat, ring the doorbell, and run! Now, you might be wondering how the girl will recognize the secret admirer at the ice cream shop. The secret admirer should wear a shirt that has the following on the front in big letters: “I AM YOUR SECRET ADMIRER!”
Brilliant. That way you get two dates out of her (ice cream + dance = two dates) when she really only agrees to one. And if she says no, you could say, “Well, at least let me buy you some ice cream.” Then you have the rest of that date to win her over. Masterminds are reading my blog. Sweet.
I must say that I will not be using these ideas for Buzz, but you have inspired me and I have an idea—I don’t know if it’s better, but it’s definitely in the same category as your ideas. I will tell you about my plan after Buzz and I carry it out.
Other than that, Donald has been avoiding me, and I still need the poem from Buzz to proceed.
Those who have love have wealth beyond measure.
It sounds like my readers are wealthy. I’m desperate; I will take minimum wage at this point.
Friday, February 4th, 2011
10:15 p.m.
Poems
What day is it? Oh, yeah, a normal day in my crazy life. I went to school and saw that Donald was hanging out with Timid Tim, my evil little enemy. They look like they are best friends now. Why hasn’t Hercules told me about this? I mean, I sit by Hercules on the bus—why didn’t he tell me that Donald is now in cahoots with Timid Tim? Should I be worried? I will let it pass for now. But now I feel I can’t trust Hercules, so I will start riding my bike to school.
Buzz met with me during lunch to give me his poem, or should I say a notebook full of love? I just wanted a simple list to make a poem out of, like
Roses are red, violets are blue, will you go to the dance with me? I’ll go with you.
But no, he gives me this notebook that is completely full, front and back of every page, of how he feels about Angela. We have a lot to work with. So I told him we should hang out after school to make a poem.
I told him there are tons of different poems, so he should figure out a format he would like to impress Angela with. I don’t know why I thought he could pull off such a simple task as finding a poem format. When I road my bike over to his place later in the day, he still had nothing for me, just a bunch of unorganized feelings.
We decided to make a basic starter poem for our first contact: an acrostic poem. I explained that all you do is write out her name going down the page; then, to the side of each letter in her name you write something about her that starts with that letter. I gave
smile
as an example.
Silly
Manly
Irresistible
Ladies love it
Effervescent
He looked puzzled on the last word, but he got the idea, and I didn’t have time to explain. We got right to work, and when we were done, this is what we’d come up with:
Angel
Naturally beautiful
Genetically perfect
Elegant
Lovably cute
Always smiling
If Angela is not impressed with this acrostic poem Buzz made for her, then she is too picky and needs to take a chill pill.
Buzz thanked me for the help, and I told him to decorate the paper so it looks pretty and not made by a caveman. Tomorrow we will stuff the poem through the slit of her locker.
When I went outside, I found that my bike had two flat tires; on top of that, the seat was missing. Now, whoever pulled off this prank is a genius. I’m not even mad. Sure, it is upsetting to see I have flat tires, but they were not slashed. The seat missing is a work of art. It makes it so that even if Buzz had a pump, it would be agonizing to ride home without the ability to sit down. It’s the perfect prank, and I think I know who did it. I’m sure you can guess who as well. Sad to say, I told Buzz I will not be a bully anymore so I can’t go after the culprit, or is there more than one now?
Do good, even to a stranger.
I would love to do some good to his strange face!
Monday, February 7th, 2011
6:42 p.m.
Sneaky
Today Buzz and I arrived early to school and stuffed Angela’s poem in her locker. We were so proud of our work that we gave each other high fives. In the middle of our celebration, we were interrupted with a beautiful voice asking what we are doing in front of her locker. We turned to see Angela standing there staring at us. Buzz, with his quick goat thinking, which is something I lack, said that we had just made a peace treaty and that we would never fight again, so we were celebrating and just so happened to be in front of her locker. We stepped to the side, and she fidgeted with the locker combination. When she stopped, looked at us, and said, “Do you mind, guys?” We realized we were just standing there gawking at her. We smiled and bolted out of the hallway. It never crossed our minds that she might go to school early with her dad. I really hoped she didn’t find the poem right away because if she did, it would be obvious it was from one of us.
We peeked around the corner and saw that she was indeed reading the poem. I was worried, but then Buzz and I saw that she had a big smile on her face. So whether she knows or not doesn’t matter, because she looked happy. My creepy grandpa’s plan worked for Buzz. I guess that old man really did have some game in the 50s. What a sweet victory.
Later on in the day, I found my bike seat in my locker. How did they break into my locker? I will have to search the Internet to find out how to break into a school locker without being caught. Again, I am impressed with the prankster.
I almost had a good day at school, but it was wrecked when I heard Jacob (the kid caught eating his test twice) talking about how Donald slashed the tires on my bike, keyed it, and stole the handlebars, leaving me stranded fifty miles away from my house. I also spent the night in jail after a cop picked me up for running away from home.
So that is the game Donald wants to play? Well, I guess it is a game he will win, because I refuse to get caught in his trap.
Knowledge is power.
I agree. If only I could think of something to do that doesn’t involve violence. Everything I think of ends with Donald stuck in a wheelchair and sucking Jell-O through a straw for the rest of his life.
Sunday, February 13th, 2011
10:12 p.m.
Top Secret
I figured out how to break into a school locker. It is easier than I thought it would be. I would tell you how, but then you would want to try it just to see if it works. And when you got in trouble, you would rat me out and say you read it on my blog. The FBI, the CIA, Army Rangers, Special Forces, and the US Coast Guard would break down my door and fight over who got to take me in, because there would be a million-dollar price on my head. So that is why I refuse to tell you how to break into a locker.
I told Buzz about my new skill of opening lockers, and he was very impressed. We both figured that we could do something cool with Angela’s locker on Valentine’s Day. I am glad to see Buzz has someone to spend money on for Valentine’s Day. As for me, I have nothing. It’s probably for the best. I need to get my grades up.
We made some good plans over the weekend. We bought some chocolates, flowers, rose petals, a stuffed animal, and one heart-shaped balloon. Next was the noncommercial part that comes from the heart, and I don’t mean the heart-shaped balloon. Buzz needs to make a card. We spent hours decorating a construction paper card with different colors, glitter, and confetti. When we were done, the card looked like a three year old made it. Jessica could have done a better job. So, we ate lunch on it, and then we trashed it.
We went back to making a poem. I suggested that this time we should do one of my personal favorites: a haiku poem. I explained that a haiku has three lines. The first line has five syllables, the second has seven syllables, and the third has five syllables. The words do not need to rhyme. The example I gave him was one I made about Jessica when I hated her guts.
I hate Jessica.
Jessica is a big brat.
She smells like dog poop.
Buzz didn’t really like my example, and I can’t say I blame him. I was very mad when I wrote that haiku. Buzz and I put our heads together, and this is the one we came up with for Angela. I titled it “Angela.”
She makes my world pause.
With her beautiful bright smile.
She warms my cold heart.
I am personally astonished by the amount of high-quality poetry we produce as a team.
So by the end of the weekend, we had an amazing plan, and hopefully Angela will be blown away with her secret admirer.
The world may be your oyster, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get its pearl.
No, but I am dumb enough to help others get the pearl.
Monday, February 14th, 2011
5:43 p.m.
Valentine’s Day
We went to school very early. We didn’t see the principal’s car, so we figured we were good to go. We walked through the halls until we finally came to Angela’s locker. I quickly worked my magic and after a few minutes . . . I had no success.
I was about to try my alternative method for opening the locker, but right then the principal turned the corner. He asked what we were doing, and we told him that we were waiting to give these items to a special girl. He laughed and said something along the lines of, “You guys are too young to be in love.” We explained that it’s Valentine’s Day and it’s the only day out of the year you can make a fool of yourself by telling someone how you feel about him or her. The principal laughed and wished us luck.
When he was out of sight, I hurried to try my second method. Now, I will tell you the second way to open these lockers, because
if you are stupid like me and actually try this, then you deserve whatever happens to you.
I stepped back about twenty feet, pointed my head at the locker and charged the locker, making sounds like a Japanese soldier. WHHAAAAAA . . . BANG! I smashed right into the metal locker, and as I bounced backward, I saw that it had worked. The goofy instructions on the Internet that I read—and questioned—had actually worked.
We stuffed everything into her locker, but then we realized the balloon was too big. We could have let it hang out of the locker, but then someone else might pop it. So we squeezed it in and slammed the locker shut. POP! Dang. Our five-dollar balloon popped. I am not a superstitious man, but I took that as a bad sign, like things were already starting to fall apart. Buzz looked a little sad too. I told Buzz that was just one item of the many we got for her. She would still be happy.
