was named Dennis, and spitting, punching and kicking were his favorite communications modes. He was "winning by intimidation" before its time, on days when he didn't spit at you you thought he was being nice.

I finally outgrew him, and my fear of him, and prevented him from tormenting me any further by pummeling him with my fists in an uncontrolled burst of rage (for which I have always felt embarrassed, still do, but heck, it was 4th grade). I am adamantly opposed to violence, but I know that even the most responsibly-intended people have their breaking point.