BURLAP, NJ – Ronald Bunk, a 7-year-old transfer student to Our Lady of Angst School is fighting the charges of bullying by declaring himself “above” any and all school rules.
“It’s a witch hunt,” he stated, surrounded by angry Dominican nuns. “They’ve had it in for me since I transferred here. Everybody knows it. I’ve talked to many, many smart students, here. The smartest students, here. They agree I’ve been singled out because of my fantastic IQ.”
As the nuns fought back the urge to smack him silly, young Bunk continued. “It’s a Deep-School conspiracy. They want me to study geography and math. This is unheard of! I know more geography than most geographicals and I can astound mathical experts by thinking out of the box. The best boxes ever.”
When he was confronted by the charges that he bullied and beat several kindergarten students, he puffed himself up and declared: “The whole ‘detention’ decision is a sham! These accusations are a travesty! It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham! I call a mistrial!”
“And I call ‘plagiarism,’” muttered Sister Mary Reader.
HIS DEFENSE
When it was explained to him that three kindergarteners went to the school nurse with black eyes, Bunk brushed it aside. “They’re little snot-nosers who came up to mock me for being big, pimply and pasty, which I’m not, as you can obviously see.”
He began to sweat. His friend, “Twitchy”, gave him a Kleenex that the boy used to daub himself, causing a dozen pimples to erupt. “Confronted by my genius, they all fell down, hurting their eyes. It was my brilliance that blinded them.
“I called the Principal this afternoon and we straightened it all out,” Bunk declared. “Detention is off the table.”
He was then presented with the transcript of his call, which the Principal had already given to his parents. It included such sentences as: “My father owns the hardware store. Do you know what I can do to you?” As well as “After I kick your nads in, how about I shove a cucumber up your bung-hole, you poopy-head!”
HE HAS ISSUES, SAID HIS PARENTS
While the boy threw a tantrum, declaring his call to the Principal was “perfect,” his parents arrived at the back of the school, in an effort to avoid the press. It was not successful.
“We’ve always had problems with Ron,” admitted his father, Fred. “He’s the kind of boy who’s picked last in almost every game.”
“Including ‘Solitaire,’” Ron’s mother, Trixie, sighed.
Added Fred, “He was dropped on his head as a child…and he seemed to like it. As he grew older, his favorite ‘game’ was to run headfirst into a wall, stagger back, point to the wall and declare ‘Did you see what he did to me?’
“Before we moved here, we went to every exorcist in our state. Those poor priests probably went through sixty or seventy gallons of holy water before they just gave up.”
“It was bad,” added Trixie. “After a time, they showed up wearing snorkels.”
“Even the child psychologists were stymied. Almost every one refused to believe he was a child. They assessed him as being everything from an evil dwarf to an alien life form. Eventually, we just gave up. We called the few freak shows still in business but it was a ‘no go,’” Fred said.
“We even tried dumping him in the middle of nowhere, letting him loose to forage in the woods. We thought he’d grow from the experience,” Trixie said. “But he always found his way home, accompanied by a small army of children who refused to maintain potty training rules.”
“That’s what worries us,” Fred said. “He’s always been good at attracting other losers. We don’t know what to do.”
THE SLAP HEARD AROUND THE PLAYGROUND
At the front of the school, Bunk was still holding court. “And what about our Principal, Father Louis Skinski? My friend Twitchy says he might be Ukrainian! So, there you go. This is all about Deep-School and foreign influence! It’s all about conspiracies! This school is in the hands of communists!”
At that point, Sister Mary Frances slapped him across the face. “Here’s your hand,” she said, sweetly.
All the children around him began to giggle.
Bunk began to wail.
“You just wait until I’m President!” blubbering Bunk yelled, while being pulled back into the school by his left ear.
Sister Mary Francis continued to drag him inside. “There aren’t that many stupid people in this country, you spoiled little brat.”
“You just wait!” Bunk said, snot dribbling out of his nose. “You just wait!”
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