The name of a game invented in an attempt to hint at our wonderfully run down comp that we would not tolerate cheap fixtures and fittings. We discovered that the inside of a biro, coupled with the classic 'rubber band catapult' operated twixt finger and thumb could result in much fun. Fired at precisely the moment the teachers back was turned the aforementioned biro bits would stick in the polysterene roof tiles, much to our glee. Given that teachers are so wont to turn round, by the time the class was over the pre-selected roof tile would look like it had in fact been attacked by a tribe of minature Zulu's (albeit Zulus who attack miniature Michael Caines with the inside of a pen). Although immensely popular this game faded out as quick as it had arrived, replaced by the infinitely more dangerous, and therefore, more fun 'Zulu Fat Kid's Arm'.
After being humiliated in Biology the week before, by having a migraine at the same time as disecting a heart and therefore appearing to go green and spew at the sight of said bodily organ, I was forced into reaffirming my hard man image. This was accomplished by tying several bits of thread to the following week's dissection subject, a windpipe and lungs, and parading it around the class. Whilst the initial ability simply to make it move towards unsuspecting girls at high speed and making them scream was good enough, it got better when said lungs took on a personality of their own. Now totally out of control, Kermit The Lungs (patent pending), began performing dance routines across the benches whilst singing "We're moving right along". The show came to an abrupt halt when Kermit noticed the biology teacher now standing staring and, instantly, reverted to being 'just a pair of lungs' dangling innocently from thread! In a travesty of justice Kermit was allowed to remain whilst I was removed to the confines of the 'quiet room'.
Back in junior school we were forced to undergo the abject humiliation of cross-stitch. Designed specially for retards, this involved threading shoe-lace sized string through some material which had specially made holes in it, using huge, but annoyingly blunt, knitting needles. Whilst some fun was derived from the fact our intended space shuttle designs turned out like - in all honesty - a big cock, the best was yet to come. The class retard, Lisa Smith, who had sat quietly, intently embroidering, for the best part of an hour finished with a flourish and, standing up to show off her creation, realised, along with the rest of the class, that she had managed to sew the entire thing through her dress. The only thing better than the downright fuckwittedness of this act was the realisation of exactly how much effort it must have taken to force the blunt needle through her dress. One particular bonus was that whilst the teacher spent an hour unpicking every stitch it gave a great opportunity for the more inventive to try putting the needles through each others legs.
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