Like any school environment, RS 59 had its share of bullies come and go over the years. But on one fateful afternoon in detention, three particular tormentors found themselves sniggering over the hodge-podge of idealistically sappy anti-bullying posters adorning the classroom wall. One that earned their collective ridicule involved a sentient zero making friends with a "1" a "2" and a "3", sandwiched between the captions "Strength in Numbers Happens; When we're Buddies and Not Bullies."

Rather than leave reformed and productive individuals, fourth graders Niccolo Lane, Sigmund Beznick, and Russ McDermott emerged from their academic incarceration having taken the message they mocked to heart and proceeded to spend the next two years establishing themselves as the very last word in intimidation; a triad of terror, an unholy trinity, doing for the doling out of emotional terrorism what Mozart or Beethoven did for music. And now as sixth graders at RS 59, this was their final shot to cement their legacy and perhaps even mentor a protégé to build off what they built before heading off to the greener pastures of junior high …that is until last week when a sleeve of cherry bombs was found in Russ' locker and Principal Canker saw not only to his immediate expulsion but transfer to a military academy. The effect of their friend's absence left Nicolo and Sigmund lost and disorganized shells of themselves and in need of someone to fill his shoes as the (de facto) brains of their outfit.

Russ' fifth grade portrait stood framed at the foot of the dumpster behind the gymnasium flanked by a set of devotee candles and three bottles of Yahoo. As Niccolo put the lighter back in his pants pocket, Sigmund hurled open the industrial garbage container's lid occasionally giving an anticipatory glance towards the main doorway.

"Three minutes…" Niccolo said. "Cuttin' it pretty close don't you think?"

"I got faith in him." Sigmund said defensively. "You should too-"

"-Only because it ain't like we got the longest list to work with."

"What about that girl who's always following you around…Shelly….Sheena?"

Disgust masks Niccolo's face as he slowly turns his head towards his cohort. Shanna's hero-worship and eagerness to be part of their outfit wasn't as flattering as she believed it to be. If anything, it was quite grating and pathetic to see her follow them around like some starry-eyed schoolgirl. Nonetheless, Sigmund disregards his friend's emotional assessment and continues to argue his case.

"All I'm sayin'… word 'round the hallway is that she's got a talent for cruelty. And you're the one lookin' for someone to carry the torch so badly…"

"Oh what, give out a couple of black eyes and you're suddenly soooooo hardcore?" Niccolo mockingly interjected. "I want quality dammit, not some junior-league Mickey Mouse crap. I'm lookin' for a little more…now THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!"

Sigmund looks up and smiles maliciously as a large and meaty figure steps into the alleyway. Despite trying to come off as resolute in his decision to join them in their outfit, the look on his face shows there are doubts which linger, doubts which only intensify as he delivers Stumpy Paulson to them.

"I can't lie Brawny, my faith in you was starting to waver." Niccolo says with cold pride. "But you've given us our first little volunteer in the Russ McDermott Memorial Dumpster. Well done."

"Please Brawny." Stumpy begged. "Don't let them do this! Think about all the help I gave you in-"

"Cram it geek!" Brawny stammers back as he tosses the kid to Sigmund and Niccolo. The front he tries to give off as some swaggering playground persecutor is just that; a front. A hollow and shaky façade. Try as he might to block out Stumpy's pleadings, Brawny finds himself failing miserably. No matter how hard he shuts his eyes or plug his ears. Finally, as the telltale creak of the dumpster's hatch opening fills the air, Brawny speaks.

"No..."

Time comes to a halt in that monosyllabic utterance; as Stumpy's face breaks into a hopeful smile, Sigmund and Niccolo stare at each other in disbelief.

"…If anyone's givin' that nerd a garbage bath, it's gonna be ME!" he says jamming his thumb into his left pectoral for emphasis.

"Dammit I love this kid already." Niccolo mutters. "Well, all you dude."

As they toss Stumpy back to the beefy boy, the lad finds himself hoisted in the air. Yet as he finds himself set to be hurled in the putrid collection of crap ruminating in that metal box, the geeky lad furrows his brow. Having failed to appeal to his classmate's sense of brotherhood, surely, he could appeal to his sense of guilt.

"Big man, aren't you? Well, go ahead. Toss me. Resisting you physically is a futile effort indeed for you are immense, but what happens after? Will dunking me in this fetid pile of refuse suddenly restore you to the sixth grade again? No. I can wash myself, but you'll have to live with the filth of what you've done when see me tomorrow, the day after, and all your tomorrows after until someone finally finds it in them to advance you."

Time came to a halt as Brawny looked back in the eyes of his classmate. Suddenly, he started to laugh and return Stumpy to his full and upright position as Niccolo and Sigmund feel shock wash over them like a tidal wave.

"Layin' it on pretty thick there, huh?"

"Well, we had to make it look convincing."

"Anyone wanna tell us what this is about?" Niccolo asked as he and Sigmund ball their hands into fists.

"Simple. Your reign of terror over the student body has come to an abrupt halt." Brawny said slowly but authoritatively. "I…um, used those words correctly, right?"

Stumpy's crisp nod to Brawny proves to be the final straw for Niccolo. Like an irate bull, he charges at the two underclassmen only to find himself being hurled backwards before he knows it. Gesturing to Sigmund, the second tormentor wastes no time going in to avenge his comrade. With less than a foot of space left between Stumpy's face and Sigmund's fist, all hope for the brainiac boy seemed lost until Brawny catches his fist in midair.

"Ack! Let me go dammit!"

Whatever bluster Sigmund had at the moment evaporated with each shake of his arm. In a vain attempt to release himself from Brawny's grasp, he grips the boy's wrist which in turn makes him only tighten his hold on Sigmund. Brawny steps forward, shoving Sigmund's back to the dumpster and bringing his face close enough that the bully could theoretically count every pore on his attacker's face.

"I don't get it you friggin' meat-slab! Why them?"

A little word of advice…" Brawny began slowly. "If you're gonna recruit, don't do so during tutoring. Because when I saw your message, I had me one of those vision things that…makes you realize stuff…"

"An epiphany?" Stumpy piped up.

"Yeah, one'a those." Brawny continued. "This kid (he jerks of his head in Stumpy's direction). This kid was the first one to really give a rats rear end 'bout me. [To] take the time and help me with school. Nobody needs to tell me I'm an idiot. Only way I'm gettin' outta here is either Army or football. Yet though it all, he's never given up on Fifi n' me. That's mad respect in my book. Mess with him, you deal with me. Got it?"

Brawny releases Sigmund's hand and proceeds to leave them both licking their wounds as he and Stumpy exit the back alleyway. it doesn't take long before both bullies feel a long and ignominious shadow blanket them as the they seethe over their injuries.

"Well, well, well."