That afternoon, when Calvin was about to leave school, he was stopped in his tracks by Moe's titanic bulk.
"Uh, hi, Moe. How are you? I'll bet you want my money now, don't you?"
"I want more than your money, squirt. I want your head."
"Now, Moe, don't be irrational..."
"Ir-what?"
"Irrational- oblivious to common reason."
"Uh-what, to what?"
"Don't be ."
"Hey, twirp, are you callin' me ?"
"No, Moe it's just that I, uh, I uh..."
"You're callin' me , aren't you?"
As the two boys' voices grew louder, a small crowd gathered around, chanting 'fight, fight,' and making fun of Calvin's wimpy-ness.
"I think that-"
"You think? I never would have known," Calvin said boldly. He knew that he was dead no matter what.
"That's it, weenie. You're goin' down!"
As Moe took a big, slow swing at his head, Calvin ducked. He ran down the hall, looking for somewhere to hide. Then, he saw something that could really save him. His name was Tom.
Tom and Calvin looked almost exactly alike. They had the same hair color, eye color, height, and weight, even the same head shape. The only difference was that Tom was a stuffed dummy, and Calvin was a kid.
With any luck, a dummy like Moe wouldn't even notice the difference as he pummeled it.
Calvin was right. He took Tom and stood him up against a locker. Then, he ducked into a classroom across the hall and watched. Sure enough, Moe, the idiot that he was, hit the dummy running and beat him into a pulp. Then, thinking that he had accomplished his goal, he left before the teachers found out.
Now, Calvin was safe for good. He also knew how to avoid being pummeled by Moe.
"A dummy for a dummy," Calvin said to himself, "how fitting."