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This is a question School Trips

Get left behind? Go somewhere utterly amazing? Get bollocked by a lardy coach driver? Find out the school nurse was secretly bonking the Geography teacher? All these and more on just one five day trip to the Dorset coast. Whahey!

Tell us how your school trip spiralled out of control.

(, Thu 7 Dec 2006, 10:37)
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Sickbag fun
Not quite a school trip, but an army apprentice college, so a bunch of 17 year old boys.

Me & a mate used to arrange to "borrow" the sports minibus & take a bus full of these scrotes to Dover, then spend the entire weekend crossing the channel on the hovercraft, buying up everyones duty free cigarette allowance & selling them back to the scrotes on payday. They got a day out & we made a few quid.

On the first crossing of the day 18 bleary eyed & hungover junior soldiers filed onto the hovercraft, & off we went. It's like a really bumpy bus journey, & you can't wander round, you have to stay in your seats. I'm sat next to my mate (we weren't junior soldier - we were in our 20's & supposed to be the responsible ones) & I did what I always used to do on airplanes etc. I took the sick bag out of the flap on the seat in front of me & tore open the glue at the bottom of it. I was chuckling to myself & saying to my mucker "this is one of those jokes that you never get to see the result of..."

30 seconds after I'd put the sick bag back (now modified into a sick tunnel), the lad sitting across the aisle from me covers his mouth & has the telltale green hue & sweaty lip. My mate Jules calmly takes the modded sick bag & hands it to him. I watched through tear-strained eyes at the confusion on this poor buggers contorted face as he tried to work out what was going on, he was sure he wasn't missing the bag, but couldn't work out why his lap was filling up with sick. Even when he realised he still vommed into the bag & caught it with his free hand at the bottom.

The was about a gallon of it. We'd had McShite for breakfast. The smell suddenly hit me & I regretted my stupid prank. The smell hit everyone else too, & it was like a mexican wave of people reaching for sick bags. At least half the people on that crossing were sick. I managed to keep my chunks down, but it was a close call.

Pukey Boy washed his trousers in the bogs at Calais & warmed them under the hand drier. He spent the rest of the weekend sitting in the minibus. I never did get round to telling him it was me that did it, & my mate insists he'd didn't give him the modded bag on purpose.

I no longer tear the bottom out of sick bags, & don't recommend it at all.
(, Mon 11 Dec 2006, 18:47, closed)

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