If you have seen
The Office, then you know
Dwight K. Schrute. He is an eccentric/earnest/dweeb/Trekkie/Amish freak who considers himself the Gilligan to Steve Carell's Skipper on that show. Dwight personifies the kid who wore flood pants in high school, the kid who wore a tight, off-colored T-shirt with a strange nerd slogan on the front ("I survived Band Camp"), Buster Brown shoes (usually of an industrial-colored brown tone), and oversized wire-rimmed glasses with either black tape or a Band-Aid at one corner. This kid would also possess one or more of the following characteristics:
- Still carried a Star Trek or Star Wars lunchbox
- Wore galoshes over the Buster Browns when it rained
- Was a member of the chess club
- Got A's in science class, but was usually known for some sort of lingering "incident," during which a "girl" had been injured by said kid in a Bunsen burner mishap
- Often had grown to a freakish height over the course of a summer, but still weighed the same -- going from 5'6", 150 pounds to 6'3", 150 pounds, for example.
- Farted at inopportune social situations
When I was a freshman in high school, we had a kid named Doby (not his real name) who was a carbon copy of Dwight Schrute. He'd been the class nerd; but, now, coming into tenth grade, he had shot up to over six feet tall.
My school did not allow hazing or harassment of any kind. That was a good rule, and everyone was generally respected and protected from bullying and such. But there were still minor confrontations.
Cut to gym class. Everyone took gym from a closet-Nazi gym coach who must have been over seventy years old. At least, he looked seventy. He'd fought in the war, and his solution to any confrontation was to "lace ‘em up" -- which meant going toe-to-toe with your enemy in the boxing ring. Didn't matter if the kid that had picked on you was a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier -- lacing them up was in your future. And you had to lace up IN FRONT of the whole gym class -- boys and girls.
Needless to say, this was back in the late seventies, way before the soccer phenomenon where "nobody loses." This was a form of barbaric bloodletting. The bald but hairy and wiry gym coach didn't let any of the combatants quit until somebody drew blood. This is the kind of greasy Americana that introduced the lawyer society we live in today.
The bully in this case was named Butch, and he lived to torment Doby. One afternoon, right after recess, while we were suiting up in the awful stinky uniforms we had to wear that were never washed, Doby cut a silent fart. Butch slapped him with a wet towel, and the gym coach came in the locker room, and "lace ‘em up" was about to begin.
Butch was 5'10" and two hundred pounds. Doby was 6'3" and one hundred and fifty. Butch was known for fighting in the streets. Doby was known for operating ham radios. Within thirty seconds of "lace ‘em up," Butch had Doby bleeding from the nose and doubled over on the gym floor.
But the battle was far from over. After gym class, we all went to the showers. From the description I heard of what happened next (I didn't see it), Doby turned his butt in the path of Butch and tried to fart.
He pooped all over Butch.
Poor Butch freaked out and began wrestling (naked!) with the Dobster. The gym coach heard it and went barreling into the showers and started pummeling Butch, because he assumed that Butch couldn't leave well enough alone after lace ‘em ups. Butch refused to release his hold on the Dobster, and the coach had to cold-cock Butch. Butch woke up about ten minutes later.
Coach also called Butch's dad (a steelworker with tattoos all over his body), and Butch's dad beat him up again when he got home.
The next day, Butch showed up at school with a shaved head. His dad must have been old school, thinking a little military discipline would do some good. Perhaps it did -- Butch never bothered Doby again. Doby was known as a hero after that.