My Daddy "The Fonz"

Chapter 12/Part 4: Revenge Tastes like Dirt (TW: spanking)

Bobby's POV:

Spike's eyes go really wide in excitement as he holds the fork to the cake, then he puts it down really fast and instead, plops his whole face into the middle of his slice. Everyone laughs, even me, and Mrs. C takes a picture of his messy face. Spike smiles at first for the picture but then his smile turns crooked like he finally notices that it's really gross. I try really hard not to laugh, even though it's hilarious.

He glares at me and spits it out, and I can feel my feet want to run away, but before I can, Richie holds me down to my chair. Oh no. Spike looks real mad. So does Richie. I'm scared. Looks like everyone's gonna get me for this.

"Bobby, I'm gonna kill you!" Spike screams. He's about to get up, except Daddy saves me by making him sit.

"Don't worry, Spike. I can handle the killing," Daddy says, looking sad at me.

I'm not sure if he's joking or not.
I try to hide myself inside Richie's sweatshirt from everyone's stares, but Richie makes me look at Spike. Richie waves at my Daddy. "Don't worry, Fonz. I promised you I'd take care of Bobby, and I will." Richie's hand squeezes my shoulder. I know he's gotta be super mad. He doesn't squeeze me like that unless he is. It hurts a whole lot.

Oh no. No no no. This is not good. Not good at all.

"What're you gonna do, Richie?" I ask.

"Yeah, what're you gonna do to that little shit-for-brains?" Spike asks. "He ruined my birthday."

Mr. C glares at him for swearing but doesn't say anything. Spike's definitely the favorite. He can get away with everything.

"I'm curious too, son," Mr. C says to Richie.

Richie pauses for a minute then asks his mom for "that cake." I wonder. Is he gonna start a food fight? Stuff it down my pants? No, that would be weird. But I don't know. Maybe.

I wiggle in my chair when Mrs. C hands Richie a slice, but then Richie stops her. "No, mom. I want the whole thing. We don't want it to go to waste, like you say. It's still edible, just not tasty. Isn't that right, Bobby?"

Oh, I see now. This is definitely worse than a food fight.

I point at the cake with only one slice taken from it. It's the size of my head. Big. "You want me to eat that whole thing?"

"Absolutely. Every bite."

I hear Joanie laugh but Mr. C shushes her and makes her stand in the corner. Spike smiles at me like he's won and leans forward, definitely excited at my punishment.

I kick the table in front of me and whimper. Richie holds my legs. "But what if I can't eat all of it?" I ask.

"You will either finish it all now or you'll have to come back to this table everyday for a slice—until it's all gone."

I look at Daddy and beg him to let me out of it. He crosses his arms. I know that's a "no." He's completely left me alone. It's like I'm not his son any more. Whatever. I don't need him. He doesn't even care. I try to give Mrs. C a look too, but she looks away. She's even mad at me. I really screwed up. Now I'm really a goner.

"Do it, Bobby. We're all waiting," Richie says. When I don't pick up the fork, he does. "Here, let me help."

Great. He's gonna feed me like a little baby. When the fork finds my mouth, I look up so I don't have to open.

Richie slams the table. It makes me jump. "Damn it, Bobby. Eat this right now or I swear I will—I will—"

Richie's POV:

Gosh. The kid is just not cooperating at all. So much for a "good time." I don't want to embarrass Bobby in front of everyone, but like Dad has said to me, "If you embarrass me by misbehaving in front of others, I'll embarrass you with a punishment in front of others." Maybe not very nice, but it does make sense. It's worked on me, especially when I was younger. So here it goes.

"Bobby," I warn again.

He gives me the most defiant look I've ever seen him give. I might actually need to follow through with my promises here, or else he'll just get his way and learn nothing from this experience. He's gotta know not to disrespect people, especially on their birthdays. It's just not right.

Bobby manages to mumble out a string of sentences without fully opening his mouth. He thinks he's so smart. He's really beginning to push my buttons here. "You said you 'will' do something. Well? I'm not gonna open my mouth, so what'll you do? Make me open it?"

I can feel my entire face go red hot. I'm well past my patience now. He is being very, very rude. Very mean to Spike and now me. I've gotta show him I mean business, put my foot down. I need Fonzie to respect me too. I need them both to respect me.

So I set the fork down, stand Bobby up, yank his trousers to his ankles, and paddle him good over my knee. I don't care that it's in front of everyone. I'm not gonna make a fool of myself and let this little boy think he's the king. No way.

My hand takes on a rhythm of its own, a very quick and steady pace, and I can hear Bobby begin to whine. I don't look up to see if any of the adults approve. Fonzie said I could handle it. Well, I'm handling it. I shouldn't doubt myself, right?

Until I hear Spike begin to mock and chant. "Beat 'em to a pulp, Richie! Yeah! Beat 'em. Beat 'em!"

I stop the punishment to look Spike in the face. I don't care if it's his birthday. He doesn't get to disrespect me either. I'm sick of people not taking me seriously. Well, that stops now.

"Excuse me? Mind your own business, kid. Have you ever heard of a birthday spanking? I'd be happy to oblige." My voice cracks. It happens when I'm upset. I'm definitely upset. I've gotta steady myself before I really blow my top.

Spike pipes down at my comment and fixes his eyes on the table. "Sorry, Richie."

"Thank you," I retort, and I go back to Bobby's spanking. I give him another thirty whacks before I call it good. "Good" to me means that the kid's attitude has subsided and what is left is a contrite little sad face ready to apologize. Worked with Joanie when I used to babysit her. It seems to work now. Let's them know I'm not playing any more. Richie's not always the nice guy. Especially not now.

I pull Bobby's pants back up and rub the tears off his very sad little face. He does what I expect and apologizes repeatedly. I give him a peck on the head and make him look at me. "Thank you for apologizing. Now what are you gonna do?"

He hiccups out the words. "I-I'm gonna—I'm gonna eat that cake. My tummy's gonna h-hurt though," he whines.

Fonzie stands up and points at Bobby. "Yes it will. And you deserve it. This was Spike's first ever REAL birthday, and you did THIS. I can't believe it, Bobby. This ain't you. You were a considerate and kind boy. What the hell happened?"

Bobby sinks into my lap.

"No. Richie's not gonna save you here. Answer the question."

Bobby's eyes flit to Spike and his finger points accusingly. "HE did. Spike ruined EVERYTHING."

Before I can subdue him, Bobby slides across the table to wrestle Spike down to the floor. No one was expecting it, certainly not me. My arms are long, but sadly not very quick, and Bobby successfully made his move.

Bobby's POV:

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! He made all this happen. He got me in trouble. He knew I would prank him on his birthday. He just had to get me mad enough. And it worked. His plan worked. And now he has MY ring. It's supposed to be mine! Daddy said it would be!

So you know what I do? I grab the ring on his necklace real tight, and I rip it off. I run all the way to the front door and outside before anyone can catch me, not even Ralphie, even though he's a good runner. I'm better.

I find a little puddle, and I dig into it so I can hide the ring. Then no one can have it. Not me. Not Spike. No one.

I don't care what Daddy or Richie thinks.