Thursday, October 23---That's punny

"Hey Jonathan, you need to stop with the cripple jokes; I can't stand them!" Came the voice of my alter ego, who chose the name Burgle, for some odd reason. I saw him coming from down the hall. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight; I had been issued a challenge. "Why couldn't the bicycle stand up Jonathan? Because it was two tired!"

I understood what this meant. It was to be a pun war. "Then let us duel!" I reply, and so the epic battle began.
My enemy had already thrown two at me, so it was up to me to throw a comeback. "Why do ambassadors never get sick? Diplomatic immunity!"
Burgle evilly laughed, long and loud. "You'll have to do much better than that! Where do you find chili beans?"
"In Chili?"
"No, you idiot, in the North pole!" My opponent laughed again. I was losing, and we both knew it.
"An expert farmer is outstanding in his field!" I shot back.
"That was a total rip-off, like Velcro! You are weak!"
"I got a job at the bakery because I kneaded dough!"
Burgle smirked. "You're getting better, but not nearly strong enough! Cannibals like to meat people!"
"That was stupid! You're about as useful as Anne Frank's drum set!"
"You fool! That wasn't even a pun, just a really horrible joke!"
"It's like the Atlantic and Pacific, I don't sea the difference!" I knew I was started to gain the upper hand; Burgle's grin flickered doubtfully.
"I used to sell computer parts, but I lost my drive," my enemy countered, rebuilding his former strength.
I knew I had to push my advantage while my enemy was weakened. "What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef! Old schools never die, they just lose their principals. Where did Noah keep his bees? In the Ark Hives!"
Burgle fell to his knees, driven down by my attack. "Venison for dinner? Oh deer!" he offered meekly.
"What must you know to be a house-salesman? Lots. How did Hitler tie his shoe-laces? In little Nazis. I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me."
Burgled covered his face with his hands. "No more! The pun is too strong in this one!"
"Then you should get on a lower level," I say as I kick him down the stairs. "If your head hearts, then it's because a hangover happens after the grapes of wrath stop by."
I threw down my enemy and smote him at the bottom of the stairwell. The pun war was over, and I was victorious. All of my peers who bore witness to this great event stood in awe, and I gave them a battle speech to raise their spirits. "I see the same fear in your eyes that would take the heart of me! A day may come, when the spirit of men fails, when we forsake all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. A day may come when the age of men comes crashing down like Burgle, but it is not this day! By the lives of everything you hold dear, draw your sword with me today, for this day we fight! I bid you stand, men, of the West!" And with that, I dove gallantly from the stairwell and charged off into the sunset.

How I saw all of my loyal soldiers. 

All of my peers laughed as soon as I had gone. All they saw was some kid prancing about spitting horrible puns and misquoting the Lord of the Rings. They decided to simply throw me down to a lower level when I came back. And that's the story of how I got my head cracked open by a bunch of sophomores in high school.

How they saw me.