Ironically enough I did have a bully when I was about four or five. Her name was Astor and she was twice my size. She kept saying she would put me in the chokie if I didn't do things for her.
Everyone has bullies growing up, and we're all still growing up until we kick it. The title of 'bully' hasn't stuck with one person my whole life, it's hopped from person to person as I've learned to live and let go. That title has passed through raccoon-eyed middle school trollops, ex-boyfriends, old roommates, teachers, cranky late night drunks and everyone in between.
I had three bullies - they liked to make fun of me for being overweight (as my mom would say, "husky"). One of their patented bullying methods was to call me varieties on my real first name, Theodore, so The Odor, Theodork, the Fat Chipmunk, or my favorite was they would call me Barfallonyou or Barfy, because they thought Theodore sounded like Bartholomew, even though they're not in any way the same name. Kids.