Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Mad Dog


Jeremy ‘Mad Dog’ Carson was under-height. He’d spent his formative years in this situation, enduring nicknames of ‘Dwarf,’ ‘Porgy,’ and “Mini-me’ among less complimentary ones. There were two paths he could have taken to deal with it – he could have shied away from it and turned inward to his love of mathematics and physics or outward into more social pursuits. He chose the latter, joining a karate dojo when he was ten and then, when he looked old enough to lie about his age, a boxing gym in the small streets of The Shambles.

He earned the nickname ‘Mad Dog’ when his mum died, the victim of a traffic accident when a lad the same age as Jeremy ploughed into her Metro with his dad’s Rover. He’d been going too fast with too little experience, trying to get to his work placement scheme on time. Jeremy had tracked him down from the insurance claim and beaten him to a bloody pulp. No police were involved.

By the age of twenty-three, Jeremy weighed 210 lbs in his 4’ 3” frame with not an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. It was a rare man that ever dared call him ‘Shorty.’

Only his wife got away with that.

2 comments:

aims said...

Oh Lord - here we go again with the 'short' syndrome. It never fails does it? Short man = aggression.

I knew one once (well - more than 'knew'). He walked on his tiptoes all the time. He was - and is - an inconsiderate asshole (sorry Rachel - venting now I think).

I've learned since then to stay away from short men....they all have that 'thing'.

Thankfully The Man is 6'2". See how I learned? :0)

Leatherdykeuk said...

actually, I know a number of lovely very short men. This chap might find his way into the next book, I think. Probably as a victim.