Oliver! Oliver! Never before has a boy wanted more...penis.
At first school, the head was bored with the usual "and lo...from tha east. A stor oppeared, like" that was belted out year on year by the underclass children, so she decided that not only were we going for a change of style, but for a complete change of artistic direction and interpretation. Yes, we were going for a full musical production of Oliver! (registered TM and all rights reserved).

Now I was a budding thespian (thespian you dirty minded bastards) and I wanted to go for, if not the lead role, then at least one of the major parts (maybe Fagin, the Artful Dodger...who knows?)

Anyway, the day came when the parts were announced, and yes! I was Oliver! (TM) I scuttled off into the playground to try and catch lice and TB to add conviction to my part.

Now, a new teacher had recently started teaching at our school (bear in mind it was a small school of around 50 pupils, so she was the OTHER teacher). Now, call me a teaching traditionalist, but I am of the opinion that teachers, especially of young 5-8 year olds, should actually like children. Mrs Robertson (how anyone would marry it, let alon jump its bones was beyond me) was a miserable old fuckwitch who could have marched into Poland if she merely changed her footwear. I was lucky in that I left her class just before she joined the school, but unfortunately she also bought Katy (names not changed, as you will see later). Katy was ugly as fuck, and probably had more testosterone flowing round her body than us blokes. She definitely had an extra chromosome or two there.

Anyway, Mrs P (the headmistress, who I shan't name for she was lovely and still teaches) called me into the office.

"Carrot" she said, "I'm really sorry but unfortunately there's been a change of plan. We can't let you play Oliver! (TM) any more. We'd like you to play Mr Bumble."

"What?"

"I'm really sorry Carrot but someone else was promised the part first by Mrs Robertson."

"Who?"

"Katy"

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I didn't cry. I felt disconnected from reality. This was a dream. It could only be. No God could be this cruel.

Mum picked me up from school and noticed I was not my normal hyperactive overly cheery self. It was not until I got home that I broke down and told her the travesty of justice that happened.

"I tell you what" Mum said "I'll ring Mrs P and have a chat."

Well, it transpires from that phonecall that Mrs Robertson had promised her boygirl Katy the role of Oliver! (TM) prior to the parts being released without consulting Mrs P, being involved in the production or anything. When Mrs P awarded the part to me, Mrs Robertson stormed into the office and DEMANDED that Katy be given the part as (and I quote) "she's been to Stagecoach in the summer" (the children's acting thing, not the bus company) and threatening to report the school for discrimination if she didn't get in. My mum was furious, Mrs P was furious, but at least I got a relatively decent role, and (drum roll..) I got 2 musical solos! (and people were surprised when I came out...go figure.)

Anyway, the rehearsals came and Katy was, quite frankly, shocking. Not only was her acting ability outshone by Toby (the one with the embarrasing incontinence problem) as Urchin #4, but also she turned into a right Prima Donna, going into sulks if she didn't get what she wanted. By this stage, I had decided rather than get upset by it, I would up my game so I would shine even more.

Now, performance night came. One scene, very early on in the film, involved me having to raise my staff (a broom handle with gold sticky back plastic wrapped round it) in a threatening manner when Oliver! (TM) dared to ask for more.

So, the moment came:

"Please Sir, I want some more"

"More? MORE?"...*CRACK*

I (ahem) "accidentally" cracked Katy around the side of the head with my staff. It wasn't a big hit, but she fell to the ground with the grace of a tranqulized ox. I knew I had to continue. Luckily, my first solo came up: the song "Oliver, Oliver" so off we went. Katy staggered upright and ran offstage in a huff. She abjectly refused to come back out, so we had to have an unscheduled intermission.

Anyway, we went off, and I was greeted by Mrs P who said "very naughty Carrot. Don't do it again...now run along" with a huge grin on her face. Mrs Robertson could be heard shouting in the office about that "young hooligan" and how she would get the police involved etc. etc. She demanded I apologise, when Mrs P said "oh don't be so stupid - it was an accident." Yes...an..accident...

Mrs P put the fear of God into Katy. She told her that if she didn't get back on stage, then she would never appear in any other play in the school again.

Anyway, back on we went. I continued to shine (changing after Oliver! (TM) went to London to become a cheery street urchin.) and the play was a success! I was lauded as a connsumate acting professional!

I left first school at the end of that year and never saw Katy again. Until a few months ago, when I was looking at Facebook and joined a group for ex pupils of my school.

I was most confused by someone who was a year below me. I did not recognise the name, and it was only when I looked at the surname that the penny dropped.

Yep, Katy was now Keith.

Apologies for length, but when it's made out of rolled up fatty tissue from your thigh, you're lucky to have anything.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Fri 27 Mar 2009, 8:10, 1 reply)

Undercover Carrot scores again
Embarrassing incontinence problem? Check
Hitting people with sticks? Check
Transexuals? Check

Even if this QOTW is a 'mix tapes' style travesty it's been worth it.

ACE
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 27 Mar 2009, 8:47, closed)