A boy who was big, mono-syllabic, and, more importantly, easy to run away from. We would gather as many people as we could (preferably really small kids who are themselves the victims of incessant abuse - this made more of an impact) and approach the said person. There would follow a rousing chorus of "Oy! Tweedle-Dum! Chase me, chase me..." After a while of this sort of thing, a rumbling would begin, deep in the ground, as this fat, fat monster would rise from his seat. In epic, slow-motion movements, that would often be accompanied by a rousing chorus of "Also Sprach Zarathustra" he would give terrifying chase, causing everyone to scatter easily out of his path.