<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/62/Radbrad3.jpg)</div>"Git up there." Brad barked and frowned as he only half watched Dyllan climbing the desk behind his chair for leverage, he could see how nervous the little wimp was about the whole thing, which naturally immediately made him much more relaxed.<em><strong>Ain't nothin' but one more torture</strong></em>, He said to himself, and he even went ahead to prove that point, when Dyllan carefully pressed his skinny knee to Brad's muscular right upper back. The moment the two bodies touched, Brad screamed with agonizing pain, bawling from the top of his lungs, "OH JESUS! OH JESUS MERRY FUCKING JOSEPH CRHIST! WHAT DID YOU DO?! MY BACK! MY LEGS! I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS!!! AAAAARGH! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!" And then he turned around to flash a charming-yet-devious grin at the weaker boy, whose paleness reached a sickly green point, where it looked like he was about to hurl. "Nah, just fucking with ya.<strong>Don’t</strong>you FUCKING puke on my jacket, you hear?" he pointed a warning finger at Dyllan, "Now put what little back you have into it, push the knee in and hold my shoulder with both hands, right there. Now…three… two… one… PULL!" Brad called out, immediately feeling the sharp lightning of pain impaling his right shoulder, felt like it was splitting his body into two. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would have wondered whether that was how Stefy feels whenever he goes anal on her. That was actually not the first time Brad has had his shoulder dislocated and relocated, so he knew what to expect, and used every last stubbornness bone in his body to restrain any cry of pain, only emitting a couple painful squeaks and gasping sounds as he grinded his teeth like never before.<br/><br/>"Harder… harder… HARDER, YOU SHITWORM!" Brad 'encouraged' Dyllan until they both could feel that nauseating knack as the shoulder clicked back into its place. Brad quickly bent forward, placing his forehead between his knees, focusing all of his will power in the task of not puking, his skin quickly turned sickly yellow and his joints as pale as ping pong balls, for a moment there- he was almost as weak and fragile. He remained in that state for a longer moment more, and then he growled and slowly gained enough strength to sit up. Breathing in deeply through his nostrils, he turned his gaze backwards, to see Dyllan's worried and nervous expression… that wasn't all he saw in his eyes; there was also that… gleam, that shine, was he… proud? No… Gloating? Not overly. Brad squinted, using his thick brows for additional dramatic value.<em><strong>Is that little Marry two-shoes enjoying this?</strong></em>He was more stunned by that revelation than anything else. Dyllan's expression switched from nervous to questioning, which Brad form this crooked little smile, "How did it go?" Brad answered the gaze, and before Dyllan could do anything about it, he wrapped his muscular left arm around the back of the boy's neck, pulling his head into his lap, while his previously useless right hand folded into a fist and rubbed roughly against the boy's scalp, an ancient torturing technique, more commonly known as 'The Noogy'. "Oh, yeah! I tink it worked just fine, dontcha!?" He laughed loudly as he rubbed the other's head, his manner being less ill-willed than usual. It was almost… fondly? "Now run along and play Candy land with your pretty little girlfriends." Brad directed Dyllan back towards Max and the rest of them pathetic losers and their childish card games, smirking at the other guys, "maybe next year you'll learn some big boy games."