Not so much
my evil as
evil observed.
Taylor is a tiny, fit-in-your-pocket first-grader who is nice to everybody. Not the sort of sneaky nice where she waits till you turn your back to cause mayhem, just a genuinely sweet kid. Three of the meaner types decide it's fun to pick on her because she's little. Taylor is upset but tries not to show it, goes and plays with other kids. The jerks follow her, making up songs about how short / stupid / ugly / useless she is. I will admit that some of the songs are pretty good.
I get distracted from this issue by some other damn issue. By the time I turn my attention back to the girls, they are separate again - three troublemakers, whispering in a worried huddle, and Taylor, alone, bent over by the far fence in the playground, throwing up.
The three bad girls admit that Taylor threw up because she got so upset about their teasing. They do not make fun of this; they are scared. They will not say what pushed her over the puking edge.
After Taylor is cleaned up and taken off to a cool quiet room with no bastards in it, I take these three girls over to the puddle of puke. We stand around it in silence. There are gummy bears in it. We do not leave until they are all crying.