A pastime that involved placing one hand, palm outwards, on the top of your head and the other hand held in place between your teeth by the skin between the thumb and forefinger. In this pose you would run around the yard making a loud squeaking sound. When you approached a victim you would take the hand out of the mouth and hit the victim in the testicles then quickly replace the hand and run off squeaking. The victim had then been 'Yampy-Batted'. The only way to become a Yampy was to draw a bat - not unlike the one on Batman's bat-signal - on your arm with a pen. Anyone not so marked was a potential victim.
We had a history teacher who wrote copious notes on the blackboard. It became a test of courage to wait until he was in the middle of writing and stand up and whip out your knob. Whoever dared to leave it out the longest, risking him turning around and catching you, was the Knob-King of the week. Once, a particularly unpopular boy, trying to ingratiate himself with the in-crowd, whipped out his knob during the lesson and the boy behind him yanked his trousers and pants down and shouted 'KNOB!' Of course, the teacher turned around and caught him. He was sent home and his parents had to come in and see the headmaster.
Using one of those black indelible markers we would get some kid (it worked better on blonde ones) and give him a 'Spanish' or 'Mexican' moustache, glasses, sideburns and, sometimes for good measure, we'd write 'fuck' on one cheek and 'cunt' on the other. If you went over it a couple of times it was almost impossible to erase for days. If the kid already wore glasses a variation was to colour in the lens.
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