You lock your hands together and throw them upward toward Milton's crotch with devastating force.

    Blinded as you are, however, you miss your mark, hitting yourself in the neck.

    You choke and cough hard, forcing your head out of Milton's butt.

    You rub your sore neck, cough, and gasp until you've caught your breath.

    "Hi, Brad!" shouts Milton happily.  "Wanna!  Play!  Leapfrog!?"


    "Too early, Milterooni.  Let's just chill for a while here in the basement and see what pops up"

   "Milty, you have no chance of beating me at leap frog, for I, Bradford Powell,
Jr., am the master of the event.  In fact, in the 1960s I was the Sharon High
School varsity leap frog captain - and mascot.  But if you truly want a lesson in
how to get your cute little Greek byoo-tocks whupped, then by all means, let us
travel to the backyard, because, Little Milty, SCHOOL IS IN."

    Destroy Milton