The Stocks

I am a stocks from York, UK.

I am not the stocks you think I am. I am the humiliation device, built to put the lame to shame. You would put your hands and head through me. Then you would feel the wrath of the people and would be constantly pelted with the ultimate insult... tomatoes!

Once you're in, there is no getting out. My tearing muscles keep you in place and reject your movement, people always whimper but all I do is squeeze more. That stops them.

My best friend is my master, my creator, my handler. He cleans me every day and takes care of me. When I was first made I was small and not so awesome. I began to mature more and my awesomeness grew to what it is today.

My wooden structure is made from tough oak wood and I am lined with shining titanium. I am so robust not even Hulk could break through my bone crushing muscles. My structure makes me look handsome and fearsome.

One day a man came for his humiliation. He shall feel the wrath of the tomatoes, I thought. What he did was terrible. He struggled a lot but his strength was no match - I owned him. When he was released he was distraught.

People don't think of me very highly but they should, they should be scared of me as I am your worst nightmare. All I hear is shouting and this pleases me greatly, though it's hard to get over the smelly armpits I have to face.

One day a man with a rotating clock pistol came to our village. I could see that the pistol was suspicious, special. The pistol looked at a man who was sitting in the corner of the market place. I suspected that this man was about to experience me, his worst nightmare. I could see it in this face.

He gave me a stern stare and looked further away. I saw him stumble into a hut that the man lived in. He wasn't going to be pleased.

The next day he was called up for humiliation. The people hit him hard with tomatoes. I wondered what he had done. After the humiliation, he was scared and shocked, but looked very angry.

At midnight I woke up to blood and bodies, but the bullets, I recognised them. It was the clock pistol and its owner. For this, he shall pay the full tomato price, I thought. One day, I shall take vengeance and he will feel the true pain every other comer has felt. Let the tomatoes rain upon him.

By Reuben Marland