In the middle of the high school hallway stood Dominik Fox. He cut a striking figure who drew more then a few glances from the surrounding students. He sported a huge mass of dark red hair that tumbled over his entire head and clashed terribly with his shirt. His eyes were a strange grey flecked with gold, full of intelligence and wit. His pale lips were always quirked up as if he knew something you didn’t. 

He was dressed in a most peculiar way, with his much too large neon yellow shirt that came down over his waist. It covered the tops of a pair of ridiculously huge brown cargo pants which were bulging with an incredible assortment of odds and ends. Among them one could make out a match box's outline and what looked like a pair of pliers. His feet which were curiously enormous, were completely disproportionate to the rest of his body, as if they were growing faster. 

He glanced around at his staring peers who quickly turned away. He immediately spotted her. Mindy Taylor, his only friend in the world. She was watching him with a worried expression no doubt wondering what he would do next. Dominik winked at her and strolled over to the nearest locker that was vacant. His foster parents had given him money to buy school supplies. He bought the cheapest he could find and kept the remainder to buy more supplies. He didn’t know what for yet but he was certain that when the time came a gas powered sodering iron would come in handy.

He inspected his locker and frowned as if the cheap aluminum offended him. He was about to sling his burlap bag into the space when the locker door slammed closed. A heavily muscled teenager stepped between Dominik and his chosen locker.

“This is my locker, so move.” He declared while flexing his bicep.


Ever since the door slam Dominik’s mind was racing. He had memorized every face and every detail he could on his way here. He had already seen this guy and knew that he had already chosen a locker and was simply seeking the attention of other teenagers in the room by picking on the freak. A spectacle that which they found primitively amusing.  It was a scenario he was quite used to. He knew exactly how to deal with it.

“No sir, this is my locker yours is 159.” Dominik said in a bored voice.

The bully glanced at the key in his hand and reddened with anger and embarrassment.

He stepped closer threateningly, “I want this one too, circus clown.”

This brought guffaws of approval from his peers Dominik joined in laughing hysterically. Everyone stopped and stared at him.  

“You are so funny!” laughed Dominik, “A clown, what brilliance, what amazing wit!”

He wiped away an imaginary tear.  

The bully finally decided he was being mocked.  He swung his fist in mean haymaker. Dominik had long since ducked, to him the battle had already been fought. Of course the bully would go for the head, that’s what all his precious action movies showed. Off balance there were any number of attack Dominik could launch. He chose to bring both his fists down on the left thigh, being a jock the bully would never workout his legs which to him didn’t matter. After all in bathing suit all girls looked at would be his upper torso. Dominik twisted away as the bully collapsed on the ground cradeling his leg. The bell rang and Dominik pushed his way through the dumb struck crowd to his first class. 

The End

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