When your mum would have an old friend over and she'd have a kid your age, usually a nightmare, that you'd be forced to play with?
This kid is giving me that vibe, I'm a little scared of him. Don't touch my stuff!
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7 comments:
"This model car... the one you obviously spend hours toiling over to build... I'm going to tear it smooth up! tee hee"
There it is:
A more simple time, when-
[you could photograph someone holding an object] in front of their hips, and not get the reporters and pervs talking about it all day.
Realizing your parents sometimes valued their friendships over their own child's happiness was my exposure to how the grown-up world truly works. For me, the last straw was when Timmy ripped the head off my beloved Mego Spiderman, "trying to get his mask off".
https://i.pinimg.com/236x/5f/14/74/5f1474f7a9dbbbc1340a1e9cbc98895e--spiderman-action-figures.jpg
My dad managed to get the head back into the neck socket, but the plastic (vinyl, I think) had been badly stretched. Mr. Parker really wasn't his old web-slingin' self after that.
My solution was an elegant one. On their next visit, once everyone was comfortably settled, I took out my battery-powered toy train set out and Timmy had a blast re-creating his favorite scenes from "The Incredible Hulk". For some of the cars, it took The Incredible Hulk as many as three or four smashes against the floor to "stop the bad guys". I sat there motionless watching The Incredible Hulk destroy my entire train set, one car at a time.
From time to time, I looked over to where Spidey sat, his head sagging foward like some casualty who sat down for a last moment and then died. Don't worry, Spidey. I knew this was going to happen. I can't fix your neck but we're going to see some justice here today, you an' me.
From the sound in the living room, the adults were marvelling over our family's new stereo system. Ivan Rebroff sounded better than ever and Russian folk songs flowed through the walls with all the power of the river Volga.
"Timmy, have you ever seen my dad's trains?" Timmy said no. I didn't expect he had. Going into my dad's study was not encouraged. In fact, it was an automatic Spanking-Offence unless my dad was in there working. Still... as Spidey had taught me, there were different standards in effect When Company Was Over. Being a considerate junior-host, I led my guest over to my dad's study and ushered him inside.
Timmy had never seen a pre-war Lionel train set. He was, putting it mildly, enchanted which was entirely understandable since they were much bigger and more detailed than regular model trains. This particular set was quite modest by any serious collector standards, but my dad treasured it since it was the last Christmas present he ever received from -his- dad. Grampa went off to Europe the following January to go fight the Krauts and he never came back. No matter how many times my dad moved around as a kid, that Lionel set was kept safe and sound. It was only when he finally bought his own home were they finally taken out of their original boxes and displayed on specially constructed wooden shelving.
Since it was no fun to simply LOOK at a row of trains sitting on a shelf, rambunctious little Timmy immediately dragged over a chair, climbed up, and start tossing them joyfully to the floor. That's when Timmy discovered antique Lionels were made of thin stamped sheet metal and crumpled satisfyingly as they landed. They didn't just crack apart like mine did earlier that day. No, indeed. The Incredible Hulk was going to have to -work- at making sure "the bad guys can't use them". A moment later I told Timmy, "I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."
I didn't -really- have to go to the bathroom. I just wanted to be far away with a perfectly good alibi for what happened next. I sat in there for awhile. It took longer than I thought before the sound of the Incredible Hulk's fury finally overpowered "The Best Of Ivan Rebroff." When it did, the moment was heralded by the sound of my dad's agonized screaming. I flushed for effect and came out just in time to see, for the first time in my life, my dad openly weeping. My dad LOVED those trains like... well... like the way I loved my Spiderman.
Timmy and his folks never visited our home again. True story.
That was epic!!1!
Fantastic setup! I wonder what happened to little Timmy after that. And how long it was before he was able to sit down again.
That was the best revenge story I've heard since Sympathy for Mister Vengeance.
Kind of a low blow to mess up your father's prize possession like that.
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