Not This Time, Boys!
© July 2004
By The Hit Man
Phillips and MacKenzie loved to wrestle. They loved the challenge of testing each other's muscle. They loved using moves and holds they saw on television almost as much as they loved making up moves and holds of their own that they tested on each other constantly. They loved the tiredness that overcame them after hours of going at it, their flesh raw and red from constantly being squeezed or pummeled, twisted or socked, locked up or locked down. Really, it didn't matter to either of them. They just plain loved it. The only thing they might have loved more was picking on someone else.
Phillips and MacKenzie
This particular day, while engaged in their favorite pastime, they noticed another boy walking by. As I said, besides wrestling with each other, the only thing they enjoyed more was beating up on someone else.
"Hey, isn't that Watson?" Phillips allowed MacKenzie just enough leeway to turn his head so he could look too.
"Sure looks like him but he's put on some serious muscle."
"Remember the last time we toyed with him?"
"Oh yeah, he was ripped but skinny. Remember how we made him cry when we kept pounding his abs. Man that was some good times. MacKenzie could almost feel the flesh squishing and giving to his knuckled hands. "Wonder if the result would be any different if we took him on now?"
"Only one way to find out."
Phillips released MacKenzie from his hold and the two boys jumped up, following Watson down the beach until they reached the cove. The cove was a very private area. Very few of the young people in the area went there except to spoon at night and it was still early afternoon so there was little chance of being interrupted. The other advantage was the tucked away location, pretty much hiding anyone there from peeping eyes.
Watson was about halfway down the length of the cove when Phillips and MacKenzie came around into the protected area as well. They waited a few more moments before calling out.
"Watson. Hey, Watson." The two spoke at the same time and hearing his name, Watson turned around. It was obvious he recognized the two marauders but he didn't run. In fact, he stopped right where he was and turned to fully face the two bullies.
"Phillips. MacKenzie. How interesting to find both of you here. Isn't this where we had our last altercation?"
"You remember that, huh," Phillips asked?
"Good times, wasn't it," MacKenzie added in, a quick horse laugh following his sarcastic words.
"Yeah, I remember it but I think it was more for you than for me," Watson replied. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to get to work." Without another word, Watson turned and started walking again. Phillips and MacKenzie broke into a run, not wanting to allow their prey to escape this easily. They caught up with him and MacKenzie grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around.
"We do mind," Phillips said as he plowed his fist into Watson's gut. It was a hard hit but Watson was partially ready for it, tensing at the last moment, his abs deflecting the main force of the blow. Phillips face took on a queer sort of look, a look that Watson rather enjoyed. Phillips never saw Watson's fist coming. It caught him directly on the chin, a real haymaker. Phillip's body collapsed to the sand in a heap. Watson smiled as he turned his attention to the one boy left standing, MacKenzie.
"I'm having fun, MacKenzie, how about you?" His balled fist caught MacKenzie hard, just below the belly button. The blow sent Mackenzie to his knees, a small amount of gorge escaping his lips, dropping to the sand, absorbed immediately. Watson grabbed the boy by the hair and dragged him to his feet. He planted another solid blow, pleased to hear a giant whoosh as MacKenzie's air was driven out. Had Watson not been holding him by the hair, MacKenzie would have been on the ground again. Watson let go of MacKenzie's hair and began hitting him in the gut. Blow after blow driving the other boy backwards until his retreat was blocked by a fallen tree. He had nowhere to go, no way to run and MacKenzie knew it, his face filling with fear like the frozen look of a deer on the road caught in the headlamps of a vehicle.
Watson was unrelenting in his punishment of MacKenzie, not giving the other boy a chance to even catch a good breath of air. His fists seemed to hit harder and harder, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, completely destroying MacKenzie's abs until they practically jiggled like a bowl full of jelly.
"You know, it's unfortunate for you that Phillips went down so easily. Don't you think? He's missing out on his share of the fun." Watson swung in with his knee, a hard hit that brought MacKenzie to the verge of throwing up. Another blow of the same and MacKenzie lost whatever he'd had both for breakfast and lunch. Watson stood away while the boy retched. But as soon as he seemed to be getting a grip, Watson stepped back in and began pummeling him once more.
"No more," MacKenzie blurted out, his voice shaky and uncertain.
"What, no more you say? Why you haven't even started crying yet MacKenzie. Oh no, I think more is called for." Watson stepped in, sweeping MacKenzie's legs out from under him. As Mackenzie landed on his back, Watson moved over him. MacKenzie pulled his arms together over his stomach. "Move 'em or they get broken."
Something in Watson's voice told MacKenzie the other meant what he said. As soon as he moved his arms, Watson dropped down on him, his knees ramming full force right into Mackenzie's solar plexus. The blow caused him to rise up, torso and feet. Watson stood up, this time jumping in the air, coming down on MacKenzie again with his feet. Watson could feel the mutilated muscle that had been MacKenzie's abs move and twist under his feet. It was a delicious feel. MacKenzie tried to rise up on his own, hoping to dislodge Watson. Watson struck out with one foot, catching MacKenzie under the chin. It wasn't too hard of a blow but enough to knock MacKenzie back. He'd had more than he could take and his tears broke forth like a dam with a broken flood gate.
"Aw, did I hurt poor MacKenzie?" Watson dropped down, his knees on either side of MacKenzie's torso. "Let me help take care of that." MacKenzie saw the fist coming, even through his tears, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. When it connected, MacKenzie's head was knocked to one side, his consciousness with it. He was out like a light. Watson stood up, gave one last look and started walking again in the opposite direction he had been going. As he passed Phillips, he noticed the boy was awake but he chose to just keep on walking. He heard Phillips skirt across the sand to his fallen friend.
"You bastard," Phillips yelled after Watson as he leaned over MacKenzie who was just starting to stir, the pain bringing a loud moan to his lips.
"We'll get you for this, Watson. Count on it." Watson turned back to face the two fallen boys.
"Oh, I'm counting on it, Phillips, anytime." Then he was gone from
sight. It was at that point that Phillips realized Watson wasn't going toward
his work mentioned earlier. It had all been a set up.
Phillips and MacKenzie Afterwards