The Cylinder of Revenge!

So I'm walking down the street on my way to school on a bright sunny day. I'm still in the 4th grade living in Brockton. Suddenly, I hear tromping footsteps coming from behind...I turn...WHACK! My Bruins hat goes flying off my head and into a puddle. I look up and the neighborhood bully is staring me down with all his buddies egging him on.

Now, mind you, I may be on the lean side but I have what my Dad calls Wood Fury. My last name is Woodbury so if you can't make the connection, well, time to continue your 4th grade education.
I never start a fight but this was war. I BLEED black and gold and NOBODY mucks with my Bruins hat. Plus, this was the last in a flurry of ambushes where he never really picked a fight just teased the snot out of me and would run away.

Not this time, I knew I most likely would have gotten a few good shots in, but he was a few years older and at that age, it matters. He was just more mature and felt picking on a 4th grader in front of his friends made him cool.

So, I reached into my pocket and grabbed the first hard object I could find. Remember those cylinder rubick's cubes they used to make? Shaped like a grenade?

Primitive rage flowed through my nervous system. My enemy standing laughing about the same distance as a batter to a pitcher. This fool doesn't know I was a pitcher for little league either! With Dice-K like accuracy I snatched it out and whipped it straight at my enemy!

As I watched this cylinder of revenge make its way towards my enemy I smile and watch as the object crashes into his temple splitting the side of his head wide open and fragmenting into pieces of debris that looked like the destruction of the Death Star!

Blood and screams and running commenced. Proud as I was that I hit the mark, the abnormal amount of blood sickened and me and I decided to return home and tell my mother what had happened.

I never saw him again.

What I learned from this experience was If you have a chance to learn something, learn it. If I never got into pitching I would never had been able to smash his face in and most likely would have been picked on for years to come. What ever happened to those cylinders anyways?