They call me Chewit, but I have a name. A real name! They will learn it someday. I swear they will!

They must've been heard it once from my brother... When he called me this way...

This is beacause of the story from when I was a little kid.

I didn't like roasted liver, but I had to eat it. I was... I could...

I just had to.

So I was swallowing pieces whole, as they are, suppressing the gagging reflex for not to be noticed. Cause if they would notice, they would... would force me to...

To chew it.

Then my brother started gathering slugs in the yard and putting them in my... my mouth...

"Chew it! Chew it! Chew it!"

I have a name!!!

I... I mean... I had to...

Now I'm at school. I'm sitting at the last desk. At the end of the room.

They stick their chewing gums onto my desk.

"Chew it, Chewit! Chew it!"...

Ahhh!! I don't wan't to... Be damned you, people!

I'm sticking them then under my desk. All of them.

I'm sitting at the last desk. At the end of the room. Nobody can see my hands, so they don't know...

I saw it in a movie. Under a desk - a gun!

Nobody can see me making a gun. A real gun! Out of a chewing gum.

Although it's not easy. Hard to predict many things without testings. Mechanical things...

I'll chew some more. I'll do it for now, cause I need a material to produce the last missing parts and ammunition. I'll chew some more... For now...

It's been a few months now.

Ah, and there he comes...

Others are gathering behind him. They like the show, they like to cheer. Well, today, you'll get the show. Today you'll... You all...

Argh... Got to be calm. Here, he steps right in front of my desk.

Here, he stares right into my eyes to establish his dominance.

The gum is in his hand. All glossy, covered with his saliva.

His mouth stretches in an ugly smile and he turns his head to others as if saying: "Watch this..."

Next - he'll start saying it...

His lips twithed. I grabbed the gun from under the desk and shot him right between the eyes shouting: "MY NAME IS MIRANDA, MOTHER FUCKER!".

I don't know why did I shout that. My name is Peter.

I put the gun down. Surrounded by a gazing of schocked crowd I layed back in my chair closing my eyes.

Yes, my name is Peter, and now there's blood on my hands. But it doesn't matter, because from now on...

I don't have to chew that anymore.