Because if you see me, you'd best do what I ask. I am not one to be trifled with.
I don't like anyone or anybody. Only certain ones; most people, though, are on my hit list. Doesn't matter if they're tall or short, skinny or fat, brown, yellow, tan, red, or white, disabled or not disabled: as long as I can find something to heckle them about, I will do so ... and nobody had better stop me!
I am sick and tired of people trying to take advantage of me just because I'm older than most kids in my grade. Okay, okay, I'm not the best student; wanna make something out of it?? I'm also sick and tired of being told I can't do something; I'll do anything I damn well please!!
Ever since I've moved to this city, people have told me how to act, how to dress, even how to think. Maybe that's all in good, but what if I don't want to conform to society's wishes?? What if I want to do what I want, when I want, how I want??
I have a problem with people not doing what I ask, be it giving me their lunch money, sticking their tongue on a metal pole when it's freezing-cold out, knocking a kid's books or lunch from their hands, breaking a kid's glasses, or calling them names, names like "retard", "dummy", "four-eyes", "geek", or whatever. If I feel like making someone's life miserable, so be it. I live for the power being mean gives me!!
Yeah, yeah, I have problems, serious problems. Maybe that's why I act so mean, so I can forget about them for a little while. Dad run off with a prostitute that was 30 years younger than he was, mom doesn't give a rip about us kids because she's always in an alcoholic fog, and we're often left by ourselves anyway. (I'm the one who usually has to watch over the younger brats.) I hate my life, so I figure if I'm miserable, then I might as well make everyone else's life the same.
Ever since I became this way, I've felt better about myself because I can dump my anger out on an unsuspecting person. I don't have to think about what my own life is like, and I see nothing wrong with letting out a little aggression out once in a while.
So a fair word of warning: if you see me, dressed in my leather bomber jacket, tight stone-washed jeans, brown brogans, or my slicked-back back pompadour (think Elvis Presley in his younger days), then you'd best hide your tail because I will find you. I'm meaner'n a junk yard dog and I am not afraid to hunt you down!!
Fear me. You have been warned one last time. FEAR ME.