If only it were always this easy. . . just a reassuring word or two from Mom and the new kid is able to beat the bully next door at his own games. Still both the nasty kid's games--""I'm a bull, you're the bullfighter. I'm a tow track, you're the wreck. . .""--and our hero's eye for an eye revenge, first in his dreams and later, face to face, the next day are played out with so much gusto that they invest this banal view of boyhood rivalry and friendship with an undeniable dose of perverse satisfaction.