I post a Saturday writing prompt on my writers circle web site (http://wfscsherwoodpark.com) - it is fun to think up something to get the creative juices going. Why not have a go? This week's prompt was : Do you help? The bully is picking on his victim - can you help? Do you want to? Is it him or you that is bullied? This was my response - Mighty Maurice Blair Barton or BB to his mates was stomping on Janice's lunch box. Not an unusual scene and one I had experienced firsthand. I crept behind the bicycle shed into the science lab, my sanctuary. A fleeting grimace of guilt knotted my stomach but what could I have done to help? Blair, the biggest kid in school and his troop ruled the playground. If he can't find anything good to eat from others pack lunches he turns them upside down and steals their pocket money. Before BB arrived it had been a happy place and the worse anyone could expect was a scraped knee. Now every day was an ordeal unless you happened to be one of the favored few. Like most of my class mates, I had felt the wrath of Blair on numerous occasions. My mother forgave the first couple of mangled lunch boxes and my excuses but now I brought a paper bag. After all it was easier to dispose of the tattered pieces and not have to think up a story to tell her. Mr. Frenshaw opened the classroom door. "Good morning, Maurice, you're bright and early for class." "I'm just excited about the experiment, Mr. Frenshaw." "Well as you are the first you can help me set up the apparatus. In my office you will find a bottle labeled iron fillings and a box of magnets." "Of course, Sir, I'm happy to help." Now was my chance, Mr. Frenshaw never left his office unlocked unless he was in the class room. I put the items he had requested on the desk. With a quick glance I put a bottle in my joggers pocket, they were baggy enough to hide almost anything. "Here you are, Mr. Frenshaw." As I placed the bottle and box on the laboratory bench the bell rang for class and we heard hurried steps approach. With a brief nod I took my seat and waited. The room filled with excited chatter until Mr. Frenshaw called for quiet. "Good morning, class, as you know we are going to be experimenting with iron filings today. To ensure everyone is safe there are some rules to consider. Firstly everyone must wear gloves and goggles." A few giggles and frog eye comments are quickly hushed. "If I see anyone not following these instructions they will be sent out and find themselves in front of Mr. Morton at assembly tomorrow. Do you all understand." A chorus of yes sir was the reply. We were put into groups of four and the experiments went without a hitch. It was difficult to keep the smile off my face as I felt the weight of the bottle in my pocket. Class was dismissed and I tagged along behind staying well away from BB. My next class was two doors down and Blair did not take English Language so I was safe until lunch time. Chairs scraped and feet thundered as the lunch bell rang. Now I would put my plan into practice. My heart pounded and sweat trickled down my brow but if no one stood up to him, we would always be at his mercy. It hadn't occurred to me that I could change things until my Uncle Joe told me the story of a school bully he had bettered. Like me he was small at school so beating up a large opponent wasn't practical but this plan didn't need brawn just brains. I opened my lunch bag and took out a large hot dog bun that I had hollowed out that morning. Inside was a small plastic bag into which I poured the ipecac and tied it loosely. With a dab of mustard I disguised the plastic and folded the top of the paper bag. My legs were shaking, I felt dizzy but determination to make my Uncle Joe proud guided me on. "Mangy Maurice, what you got? Give it here?" BB sat astride a bicycle with his troop mimicking his posture. They all sneered as I cringed and gingerly handed my lunch to Blair. "Just a cold hot dog roll left over from last night, BB." "Idiot, how can it be hot and cold?" Laughter rang in my ears, I kept my eyes lowered and watched through my lashes. BB took hold of the bun and took a large bite. With one swallow the bite was gone but not for long. Blair's face turned a shade of green and he began vomiting in great gushes. Vomit sprayed the bicycles, the concrete and his mates. "What the hell, BB?" "Holy crap, that's gross." "That's disgusting dude." As his mates backed away, I just stood watching BB curl over and gag over and over. "Blair, what on earth is going on here?" "Mr. Morton, I think he's taken some sort of drug." "To the nurse's station, Blair, we'll get this sorted out." Blair couldn't argue he was still gagging and bent double. Mr. Morton pulled him along by his hood. "I may need to talk to you later, Maurice." "Yes, Sir, of course." The playground became silent as all eyes followed Blair's progress in the grip of the headmaster. "What happened, Maurice? Did you see?" "I certainly did, Janice. In fact I made it happen." One by one the crowd gathered around me as I told the story again and again. The next day we heard Blair had been expelled for using drugs. He couldn't prove he hadn't taken anything and Mr. Morton had witnessed the effects for himself. School life became happy again. No tormentor and a new nick name for me - Mighty Maurice.