The photography darkroom became home to Michael Steele's pornography stash (second roof tile along on the right) and after-hours masturbation club. That was until he discovered that his entire collection had gone missing, and that every word spoken in the darkroom could be heard in the staff room next door. Headmaster - ton of bricks - you get the story.
An immaculately organised competition in which all fourth year boys (and one terrifying girl) were compelled to enter on pain of being called gay. The contest had a proper draw, seedings and a complex system of sidebets and alleged match fixing. The early rounds went off relatively quickly, with the wimps tending to run away and hide when it was anounced they would be fighting the likes of second-seeded "Bozzer". Like me, for example. However, Gaz Davis refused to accept the meek surrender of little Steve Brown, and the school was treated to a Keystone Cops style chase of competitors and "judges" round the playground as Gaz repeatedly kicked the retreating Brown up the arse until he reached the safety of the cloakrooms. Many of the fights were held with the minimum of fuss, often round the side of the science block where it was virtually guaranteed that there would be no adult intervention and there wouldn't be a huge crowd. In fact, there would be just the competitors, their "seconds" and a couple of "official observers" to ensure foul play. It was just like a duel, only with Doc Martens. However, as we reached the last four, bravado got the better of the competitors and the American Paul vs "Jailbird" Tommy rumble went off right in the middle of the playground in front of an audience of hundreds. This was our undoing. The Head broke it up, but not before Paul took a right kicking in the head from Tommy which left him with a broken nose and two swollen eyes - there was blood everywhere, the police were called, and the entire school was kept indoors for a week. There was no winner after the police got involved in the wake of that particularly vicious semi-final. However, no-one was going to argue that Jailbird Tommy was the default winner. Sean Allsop, who ran the book on the affair, called all bets off and kept the money, sharing half with Tommy to ensure his survival. The event's passing was marked by our head's famous morning assembly address "If this is the law of the jungle, then I'm King Kong", which the fat sod never lived down.
Oft used phrase in Longman's Audio-Visual French course, and the only words of French that 50% of our class learned thanks to Mrs Talbot's habit of wearing tight white tops.
My friend Andy Harrop went a whole year telling his Geography supply teacher that his name was Basil Clithopps, and would have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for the tiny matter of the end-of-year reports. We had told her that Harrop was in hospital "in a coma", information she didn't bother to check until July when the shit hit the fan and Andy was suspended.
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