Uncle Uncle Uncle screaming this to my Uncle Mike was the only way to make him stop. He was like a bloodthirsty animal always preying on those who were weaker than he was. He would always pick on us. We hated it. It was as if there were no rules. He would sneak up like a prowling lion and pounce on his prey. We always went home with different color skin then we came with. Mostly, those colors were black and blue. He was so mean he never listened when you said stop. Crying uncle only worked some of the time. Even if we started crying he still would keep picking on us. Like a Voltaire pecks away at dead carcasses. There where many instances where my uncle scared and even hurt me. He was used to playing with big boys. While those of us who couldn’t run with the big dogs stayed on the porch. The problem being all of his kids where grown up so the only ones he could "play" with in his sick way was us. I remember a few years ago as if it was yesterday. The day started out fine until he showed up at my grandparent’s house. The first thing he did was pick me up. Dragging me out by the lake like a leopard drags his food into a tree. He said on the count of three your going in. hosting my up above his head he started to swing me. 1 2 3 and he let go. Then the world ended. I felt myself falling. -- Then he caught me. What kind of sick joke was he playing? I never did go into the water that day, though I thought I was going to. That is why I'm scared of my Uncle Mike.