My little sister and her friend were playing in the school yard right behind the friend’s house. Some 13/14 year old boys took their kite, broke it, and pushed my little sister around.
My two friends and I went to the school yard to throw down. Although I was only a 12 year old girl, dance, gymnastics, and cheerleading meant I was fit and strong (you can’t do full aerials or round-off back handsprings with weak arms and legs). I also knew how to fight.
They wouldn’t come off the roof of the school so I trashed their food and bikes instead.
A few minutes later, they come down the street looking for me. By this time, my older brothers (14, 16, and 17) learned what happened to my little sister. Mind you, all of them were muscle-bound giants and looked like full grown men.
The dopey “leader” approaches my 14 year old brother, describes me, asking my brother if he saw me.
“That’s my sister!”
My brother takes the boy’s bike, tosses it about 30 feet down the road, and the front wheel pops off. Then he grabs the kid and lifts him off the ground by the neck.
After a few choice words, he tosses the kid, too.
The bullies scampered off.
They came back again about 20 minutes later, this time with a father. Mom comes out to talk to him and the father gets nasty with my sweet, petite mom. My three brothers spring into action, threatening to beat up the father. I knew my middle brother, who bench-pressed between 200 and 250 lbs. several times a week, could really hurt the father if he wanted. He flexed up and went nose to nose with the father; the father quickly backed away, threatening a lawsuit instead.
He got back into his car and we never saw any of them again.
Good times, huh?
Heart-warming story.