Moving to a new neighborhood as a kid isn’t easy, especially when there’s a local bully ready to make you their favorite target.

So, what would you do if months of taunting, shoving, and humiliation finally pushed you too far?

Would you keep turning the other cheek?

Or fight back in a moment no one would forget?

In the following story, one kid’s breaking point came with a Six Million Dollar Man lunchbox.

Here’s how it all went down.

Meet Steve Austin…..

So, I was the odd kid who moved into the neighborhood.

I got messed with a bit, but I had a lot of friends, so things were pretty cool.

This would have been in 1969 or so.

My mom passed in 71, and we moved away for a couple of years.

I came back in 74, I think.

So there was this kid in the neighborhood who was just the worst kind of kid.

Ginger, scrappy, freckled, three older brothers who tormented the heck out of him, and he was the local bully/idiot, and I was his target that year.

As they got off the bus, the bully decided to push him down the stairs.

Now, I had been pretty reserved before, but having my mom pass, moving three times in 4 years, and being kind of lost…well, I was just a good target.

This kid had been picking on me most of the year.

Little crap, pushing, shoving, knocking my stuff out of my hands.

I just took it like an idiot.

I’d tear up, and man, that would make his day.

I hated that kid with a searing heat.

We’re getting off the bus one day, and he is behind me.

As I begin my first step down the bus stairs, he puts his foot into my back and shoves me out of the bus door.

I fly out and land on my face with my arms and legs splayed in the dirt.

I’ll bet it was absolutely hilarious to see as everybody burst into laughter.

The jerk is there pointing and leading the laughter.

At this point, he had enough and decided to fight back.

I push myself to my feet and, in the same motion, raise my right arm up and over my shoulder in a rapidly descending arc.

At the end of my lever is my Six Million Dollar Man lunch pail with the matching thermos.

Said arc is interrupted by the bully’s skull.

The sound of the metal bending and the glass in the thermos breaking are forever embedded in my memory.

I left him twitching in the dirt.

The bus driver looked at me, closed the door, and drove off.

When I got home, I put my lunch box on the counter and got some milk and Ovaltine.

My dad asked what happened to my lunch box.

I told him I broke it, hitting the bully over the head.

I never got messed with again in that neighborhood.

The bully sure felt that.

Let’s see what the readers over at Reddit have to say about this.

This person rambles about not being a violent person.

Here’s someone who doesn’t like today’s “Zero Tolerance” policy.

Ouch, this person got hit with a plastic lunchbox.

Too funny; they can imagine the sound it made.

The bully got what he deserved.

Although violence is never a good answer, it doesn’t sound like this kid was going to learn any other way.

If you liked that story, check out this post about an oblivious CEO who tells a web developer to “act his wage”… and it results in 30% of the workforce being laid off.