Scrote
As I mentioned previously I used to run play schemes . During one particular summer extra funds were made available to take some of the more deprived kids away for a week in the countryside. This also included activities for the kids, run by the local outward bound centre, which left me and my mate with little to do during the day. So we tended to hang around in the local boozer and then spend our evenings making sure the little darlings were entertained and kept from murdering each other in whatever inventive ways they could come up with. The other downside was that the outward bound staff expected us to deal with any behavioural problems they encountered instead of handling it themselves at the time the incidents occurred.

It soon became apparent that there was a particular wee scrote who was responsible for more than his fair share of problems. So, Andy and me decided we would sort him out. We ensured that immediately following the evening meal he was sent to his room where all modes of entertainment had been removed. Leaving the other supervisors to entertain the rest of the kids (not a difficult job, most of them were tough and boisterous but underneath reacted well to a bit of direction and attention) me and Andy went out side and kept watch on Scrote’s window by the cunning technique of me standing on Andy’s shoulders and looking in the window. After a while he stopped wandering around and lay down on his bed. A little later he had obviously gone to sleep. Showtime!

We had stolen a sheet from the laundry room and I put this over my head and got back on Andy’s shoulders. You can see where this is going. Lots of scratching at the window and “Woooooooo, Scroooooote! I’ve come for you! Wooooooo!” etc reduced the wee shite to a blubbering wreck. Apparently he still wouldn’t sleep without a nightlight when he was eighteen some 6 years later. Behaved himself though.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Thu 23 Jul 2009, 19:18, Reply)