Jim was mesmerized by the match because it was more brutal than he'd ever seen. Fighting over the fuel they need to keep going fueled their fight even more. It amazed him how hunger can cause two to give it so much; he would have given up by now.
Another swing sliced through the air, this time from the one that had gotten knocked down first. That blow sent the deliverer's opponent flying farther; ending their flight with a face-plant into the dirt. Jim began to cheer in his mind for the one that had just fallen -- the tinier of the two. He knew what it was like to be bullied by the bigger kids at school.
The little one got up and took a running charge, locking up with its larger adversary. They both wrestled to the ground and rolled around in the dirt. It was a rough rumble, the likes to which Jim had never seen in movies, television, or real life until now. It almost seemed cartoonish; dust was getting kicked up almost obscuring the fighters.
Finally they released each other and walked in the proverbial boxing circle. Jim couldn't see their faces, but he knew it was the stare-down. Then, the tiny warrior took a chance with another swing...but missed.
The larger combatant capitalized and beat the smaller one over the top of the head with a clubbing blow. The little one fell hard. Then another swing came down; that was followed by another even harder hit to the head. More blows barreled down until the tiny one wasn't moving. The large fighter stopped and stood momentarily over its fallen foe in triumph. Then the winner walked over to the food and picked it up, strutting away proudly.
Starvation would have probably been the end of the little one soon; this may have been a more merciful end. At least that's what Jim told himself as he stared at the small one lying dead in front of him, squashed like a bug by a bigger opponent. Jim had often lost fights at school over lunch money but never got more than a black eye because that's all he could take. This little warrior gave its life.
Jim knew what he had to do. He got up and was instantly noticed by the big brawler. Jim, frozen at first, finally got up the courage to take a single step forward. A crunch was heard beneath his tennis shoe and Jim smiled -- he'd finally stood up to a bully.
"C'mon son, get back to work," Jim's dad yelled from the backyard shed, startling his son. "Stop just standing in the grass and cut it before it gets dark out here."
Jim hated yard work. He had been very comfortable just lying in the backyard, eating a few potato chips, and staring at the un-mowed green. His dad knew Jim was easily distracted and a talented procrastinator, so he always kept an eye on his son to make sure he was working.
Jim wondered had he not stood up would his dad still have noticed him? "Alright I'm coming," he said as he picked up the bag of chips. Jim stared at them and debated for a moment if it had been the bug or the chip it was carrying that he'd heard crunch under his shoe? As he thought it through, he turned toward the shed and started to make his way over to get the lawn mower.