I'm thinking of my next-oldest brother, who's no longer with us. When I was in 6th grade, I had an 8th grader that liked to bully me. One day I decided to stand-up to him and kick his ass... you know, like in the movies. Well, he beat the crap out of me.
A few days later, in retaliation, I saw him riding down the street on his 10-speed, so I hid in a bush and jammed a broom stick in his front wheel, sending him over the bars... then I ran like the wind.
A few days later, he caught me a couple blocks away and proceeded to beat me like a pinata. While I was down and he was reigning blows upon me, he suddenly stopped, his eyes got big, and he took off running. I sat up and saw my brother (a true maniac), who was a couple years older than him, sprinting towards us. He ran right past me, chased this kid down and gave him a thorough beating. I'll never forget my brother telling him, while he was bleeding and sobbing "You fuck with him, I fuck with you! Got it?" That kid never came anywhere near me again.

As adults, he had a falling out with me and the rest of the family. When my mom died several years ago, we tried to contact him and found out he was already gone. What a shame.
